Free Face of Danger by Roxanne St. Claire Page B

a lot of noise with the water, do a thorough check for hidden cameras or mics, and then maybe we can talk. Maybe.”
    She didn’t wait for his response but slid back to her chair, drawing up her legs and wrapping her arms around them.
    He gave her a long, hard look while zipping up his pants but not buttoning them. “Excuse me, then,” he said. The little words of polite chivalry tweaked her heart. Then he leaned over, his mouth on top of hers, so close she thought he’d kiss her, but he didn’t. “Get your ass in there, woman.”
    A gentleman who knew how to throw around commands.
    As he walked away, little Stella popped out from the other side of the bed, her glassy eyes wide, no doubt scarred for life from all the sex and confusion. Vivi expected Lang to step over the dog, but he picked her up, petting her head once, then setting her on the bed.
    A dog lover. A gentleman. A sex machine. Couldn’t he do something to make her hate him?
    Oh, right, he already had. He was on this plane and jeopardizing her and her family’s future. Why? And, oh Lord, how could she make him promise to keep her identity secret—as she’d promised Cara she would?
    Shit. She closed her eyes, but all she could see was him.
    So she’d finally had her secret fantasy fulfilled and half the time he wasn’t even sure it was her. And when he finally knew, without a doubt, he
came
.
    What did that say about Lang’s feelings for her?
    Nothing. It said he was a normal red-blooded male who was getting his cock sucked off by a woman made up like a hooker. A woman who
teased
him.
    Her stomach rolled a little, and not because the plane banked.
    Was that the real reason she’d thrown caution to the wind and played her little game with the man who made her crazy? Because he was probably the safest man she’d ever met. So this was the first time she could—
    No, she couldn’t. That barrier couldn’t be breached, no matter how much she wanted him. That old pain was always too close to the surface.
    “It’s Lang,” she whispered to herself, forcing her brain to go to its usual litany of don’t-even-think-about-its when she got lost in her daydreams about him. He was an FBI geek. Uptight Dudley Do-Right. And, let’s not forget, a major client of the Guardian Angelinos.
    Usually those admonitions did the trick to crush her crush. Today, her crush was having none of it. And her body was having a throbbing, aching, ardent field day.
    She heard the shower start in the small bathroom. She prayed Cara hadn’t wired the bathroom. That was something only a truly paranoid person would do. Who was she kidding? That was just the kind of thing Cara would do. But she and Lang had to talk and, like it or not, the bathroom was looking like their best option.
    Pushing up from the seat and crossing the small cabin, she grabbed the yellow dress she’d considered wearing before deciding underwear was more expedient for keeping Lang’s questions to a minimum.
    She slipped the dress over her, looking at Stella, who growled when Vivi’s head popped through the top, obviously expecting the rightful owner of the dress.
    “Sorry, Stell. It’s still just me.”
    Stella dropped her head on the comforter, her eyes full of distaste as she watched Vivi tap on the bathroom door.
    “It’s unlocked,” Lang said.
    She opened the door and froze at the sight of Lang behind glass. Sheesh. She hadn’t meant for him to
really
take a shower.
    He opened the door, giving her a full view of his magnificently naked and wet body. Her breath caught in her lungs. He was so not playing fair.
    “Come on in.” He smoked her with a look, untempered with anything resembling a smile. He was serious. He was naked. He was gorgeous.
    “My makeup will come off,” she said.
    He reached out and yanked her in, right under the stream. “Precisely my plan,” he said over her gasp of surprise.
    She sputtered and tried to dodge the water, but he held her head, letting the water sluice down.