ever-present guilt surfaced, bringing uneasiness in its wake. He was using her, and he had to stop because he didn’t intend to give her what she needed—a happy future.
He removed his hands from her shoulder and back and took a giant step to separate them. She deserved a man who could commit wholly to her. He wasn’t that man.
“I’m not doing that again,” he said in a flat tone. “What’s our watcher doing?”
“Nothing. I made it up.” Emma lifted her chin with an air of hauteur. “There isn’t anyone watching. This is a low-level investigation. George said so.”
“Dammit, Emma. Our room is bugged.” Frustration rode him hard. If she’d been a male, he could’ve punched her. He should inform her about the two-way mirror. If he could trust her to maintain natural behavior, he would’ve told her about the voyeurs.
He stared at the thin gold chain spanning her neck, his hands fisting. Taking a deep breath, he said, “This is the plan this morning. I’m going to check out the gym since that is the most logical place for drugs. I want you to reconnoiter the pool area and this afternoon the spa. Talk to people. Mahoney has to shift the drugs somehow.”
Thankfully, Emma must have realized she’d pushed him hard enough and remained silent.
“We’ll meet for lunch and compare notes. Keep your hands to yourself. We’re not having sex again. Last night was a mistake.” Jack turned away from her wounded expression and stomped off without looking back.
* * * * *
Later that afternoon
Emma didn’t understand Jack. He ran hot then cold like an unreliable water tap. It was difficult to keep up with his quirks. One minute, he seemed to enjoy kissing her and the sex…
She relaxed and conjured the memory of their bodies sliding together in the many different ways they’d tried the night before. The way his muscular body moved beneath her hands. His sexy dragon tatt.
A tingle sprang to life between her thighs and she stirred restlessly on the sheet-covered couch inside the spa. The idea of never making love with him again sent a touch of panic blasting through her mind. She had to get him to change his mind. And if he didn’t, she’d try again. They were good together, and one time didn’t qualify as a win in the bet with her girlfriends.
The slap of soft soles on the tiled floor heralded the return of the spa attendant. Emma lifted her head. Eek, that green stuff looked nasty. Didn’t smell much better, either. Perhaps Jack had intended this spa visit as punishment.
The attendant smeared the green paste all over her back, from shoulders to toes and bade her lie still to let the stuff dry for five minutes. Then, Emma had to turn over for the woman to smear the paste on her front. Once she resembled the original green alien, she was left in solitary splendor to dry and absorb the sea weedy goodness. Mood music slipped stealthily from concealed speakers while the green glop did its work.
An hour later, the woman shook her awake and directed her to the shower. Feminine chatter hit her the second she opened the door into the huge shower block. In the outer area, large mirrors covered the wall. A line of padded stools stood ready for women to attend to makeup and hair. A vase of pink roses and white gypsophila fragranced the air.
Emma picked her way into the steam-filled shower area. Several women, with varying shades of paste covering their bodies, were waiting for showers.
Time for some questions , Emma thought, remembering Jack’s terse instructions. “Your paste doesn’t smell much better than my seaweed.”
The other woman laughed. “Ah, but I’m a prettier color.”
“That’s debatable.” Emma studied the bright yellow decorating the other woman.
“Oh, look. The communal shower’s emptying. Let’s grab it. We’ll be waiting for ages for these ones.”
Emma shrugged. Suited her. She grabbed the canvas bag the spa had provided for her clothes and hurried over to the communal
He removed his hands from her shoulder and back and took a giant step to separate them. She deserved a man who could commit wholly to her. He wasn’t that man.
“I’m not doing that again,” he said in a flat tone. “What’s our watcher doing?”
“Nothing. I made it up.” Emma lifted her chin with an air of hauteur. “There isn’t anyone watching. This is a low-level investigation. George said so.”
“Dammit, Emma. Our room is bugged.” Frustration rode him hard. If she’d been a male, he could’ve punched her. He should inform her about the two-way mirror. If he could trust her to maintain natural behavior, he would’ve told her about the voyeurs.
He stared at the thin gold chain spanning her neck, his hands fisting. Taking a deep breath, he said, “This is the plan this morning. I’m going to check out the gym since that is the most logical place for drugs. I want you to reconnoiter the pool area and this afternoon the spa. Talk to people. Mahoney has to shift the drugs somehow.”
Thankfully, Emma must have realized she’d pushed him hard enough and remained silent.
“We’ll meet for lunch and compare notes. Keep your hands to yourself. We’re not having sex again. Last night was a mistake.” Jack turned away from her wounded expression and stomped off without looking back.
* * * * *
Later that afternoon
Emma didn’t understand Jack. He ran hot then cold like an unreliable water tap. It was difficult to keep up with his quirks. One minute, he seemed to enjoy kissing her and the sex…
She relaxed and conjured the memory of their bodies sliding together in the many different ways they’d tried the night before. The way his muscular body moved beneath her hands. His sexy dragon tatt.
A tingle sprang to life between her thighs and she stirred restlessly on the sheet-covered couch inside the spa. The idea of never making love with him again sent a touch of panic blasting through her mind. She had to get him to change his mind. And if he didn’t, she’d try again. They were good together, and one time didn’t qualify as a win in the bet with her girlfriends.
The slap of soft soles on the tiled floor heralded the return of the spa attendant. Emma lifted her head. Eek, that green stuff looked nasty. Didn’t smell much better, either. Perhaps Jack had intended this spa visit as punishment.
The attendant smeared the green paste all over her back, from shoulders to toes and bade her lie still to let the stuff dry for five minutes. Then, Emma had to turn over for the woman to smear the paste on her front. Once she resembled the original green alien, she was left in solitary splendor to dry and absorb the sea weedy goodness. Mood music slipped stealthily from concealed speakers while the green glop did its work.
An hour later, the woman shook her awake and directed her to the shower. Feminine chatter hit her the second she opened the door into the huge shower block. In the outer area, large mirrors covered the wall. A line of padded stools stood ready for women to attend to makeup and hair. A vase of pink roses and white gypsophila fragranced the air.
Emma picked her way into the steam-filled shower area. Several women, with varying shades of paste covering their bodies, were waiting for showers.
Time for some questions , Emma thought, remembering Jack’s terse instructions. “Your paste doesn’t smell much better than my seaweed.”
The other woman laughed. “Ah, but I’m a prettier color.”
“That’s debatable.” Emma studied the bright yellow decorating the other woman.
“Oh, look. The communal shower’s emptying. Let’s grab it. We’ll be waiting for ages for these ones.”
Emma shrugged. Suited her. She grabbed the canvas bag the spa had provided for her clothes and hurried over to the communal
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