Authors: Shannon Curtis
Chapter Six
His lips were gentle, warm, and insistent. Vicky sighed into his embrace, sliding her arms up over his broad shoulders as he pressed his body close to hers.
Yes
. This is what she’d wanted. This is what she’d missed. His body, his warmth, his touch.
Her heart hammered as his hand slid up her side and around her back, pulling her closer to him. Chest to chest, the pressure, the warmth of his body against hers, invited her to press closer still.
His tongue played with hers, and he nipped playfully at her lips. She tilted her head back as he kissed his way to her ear, and she trembled as his teeth closed gently but firmly around her lobe.
She tried to bring her legs up, to wrap them around his waist, pull him closer to her, into her. Her leg bumped against the handbrake.
“Ow.” She twisted, trying to get into a better position. The seatbelt dug into her neck.
“Wait,” she gasped, wanting to undo the clasp and get all close and hot, and...what? Finish what they’d started? A car whipped past them, and the car rocked a little in its wake. Is this what she wanted? Ryan, in a car on the side of a highway? Not because they wanted to, but because he was testing her, proving a point? It would be worse than Christmas. It would be hell. She wasn’t going through that again.
“Whoa, cowboy.”
She moved her hands to his shoulders and pushed at him gently.
Ryan pulled away from her, puzzled for a moment before a shutter closed off his expression.
Her heart was pounding. She took a deep, calming, sense-bringing breath.
“I think we’ve established that I can play the part.” She whispered, meeting his silver gaze.
Ryan retreated to his seat, maintaining her stare.
“Yeah, I guess you can act, after all.” He turned to the steering wheel and started the car.
Vicky twisted in her seat to stare out the windshield, blinking furiously. It was a compliment, right? He thought she could do the job. Her heart rated slowed down to a quieter pitter-patter.
He checked the traffic and slowly drove back on to the road.
So why did it feel like he’d just backhanded her? This is what she wanted, right? Field work. For Ryan to take her seriously.
This sucks.
* * *
Snow crunched under the tires as Ryan steered the car up the Ultima Resort drive.
He glanced briefly at the passing scenery. White-dusted Douglas firs and cedars dotted the landscape, like sentinels in the snow.
Picture postcard perfect, he supposed. If you liked that schmaltz. Problem was, he did. Getting all toasty and warm around a fireplace while snow fell outside, mulled wine warming your insides while a beautiful woman warmed your outsides. He’d grown up in the cold, had become almost impervious to it, but he did like the closeness it generated. Snuggle Factor, he called it.
He cast a sideways glance at Vicky. The air seemed as frosty inside the car as it did outside. He didn’t know what she was so upset about. He should be upset. Not her. He’d totally enjoyed their kiss, but she’d treated it like a damned audition.
He ignored the fact that he’d started it.
But he hadn’t finished it. Hadn’t wanted to. Now that he’d had a chance to cool down, he was relieved that at least one of them had come to their senses. Neither of them could afford to let the clear goals of their mission get murky with a personal entanglement that would lead to nothing.
And he liked Vic too much, respected her too much, to sacrifice their relationship for some fleeting affair. No matter how smoking hot and satisfying that affair might be.
The car rounded a bend in the drive, and he heard Vicky suck in a breath at the sight that met them.
Dusk had long since settled, and the timber, stone and glass ski lodge lay on a slope leading down to Galena Lake, tucked in by snow banks. Lights twinkled from most of the windows, like a warm welcoming haven from the dark, cold world. It looked like a damn Christmas card.
He loved it.
“Oh. My. God.” Vicky breathed the words out in wonder, her green eyes wide as she stared out of the window. “It’s beautiful.”
Apparently the cold silent treatment was over.
He’d always wanted to live in a place like this, tucked away from the world, nestled on the side of lake. Warm. Safe. No reason to run.
But this wasn’t a holiday, he thought as two figures stepped out under the portico, and he gently steered the car under the covered entrance.
Two men stood at the base of the paved steps, waiting calmly with polite smiles on their faces.
He turned to Vicky and winked. “Show time.”
* * *
Show time.
That’s right. Time to act. Vicky climbed out of the car, turned and reached into the back seat to grab her coat. It was freezing outside.
She hated the cold. Give her a piña colada with a pretty pink umbrella on a tropical beach somewhere, and she’d be happy.
She assumed a polite expression as she shrugged into her coat. Ryan had gotten out of the car, but didn’t seem to be affected by the chill factor at all.
“I presume you are the Winthrops,” the taller man said, and approached them with an outstretched hand, his expression warm.
“Welcome to Ultima Resort. My name is Neil Hooker and this is Gavin Dryden. We are your hosts this week.”
Vicky shook Neil’s hand. He stood about six-one, with friendly brown eyes and shaggy brown hair that reminded Vicky of an Irish Setter her grandfather had owned. She instantly felt at ease with the man, and could see why so many clients trusted him with their problems. She turned and greeted Gavin Dryden, and tightened the muscles in her face so that her smile didn’t falter as she met his cool, assessing blue eyes. This was a man who made a living from observing people. And she was presently under the microscope.
Show time
.
“Good evening. We’re relieved to finally get here.” She shot Ryan a dark look before smiling so brightly her cheeks hurt. “So, what happens next?”
* * *
Vicky clutched the resort welcome manual and her tote in a tight grip as Ryan closed the door to their split-level cabin. Their other luggage was going to be brought over shortly. Vicky assumed it was so that the Ultima staff could search the bags for contraband, as all alcohol, drugs and any other addictive substances were banned from the lodge for the duration of their four-day “power up” program.
She stood uncertainly in the lower sitting area. Heavy, large-cushioned lounges in tones of browns, golds, terracottas and rusts were strategically placed to face the cozy fireplace set into a stone wall. Plush carpet the color of burnished wheat cushioned her boots, and autumn-rust drapes gave the large area a warm intimacy.
She glanced around. Sumptuous. That was the word for it. A tastefully furnished kitchenette was located near the doors that led to their own private terrace. Cabin. She snorted. There was nothing rustic about this place. Their oversnow transportation back to the main resort was a Hummer, but it was so tempting just to stay in their heated cabin. There was no TV. No sound system, either, and she already knew there was no Wi-Fi. All Ultima clients were supposed to focus on were themselves and their partner, with no outside distractions. Even their phones had been confiscated at check-in. Ryan had told her to expect that, so they had handed over dummy phones with implanted data. Drew would be smuggling in secondary phones for their use, as his role as an employee meant he wasn’t subjected to the same hyper security as the clients.
Vicky eyed the bed on the upper level. It was...big. She guessed that if the usual clients of Ultima Resort did resolve any marital issues in their pursuit for lifestyle and career excellence, they had a good-sized area for make-up sex. If they didn’t, then there was plenty of room to sleep without contact.
She would be sleeping in that bed tonight. She looked around the room. Where was Ryan going to sleep? Sure as hell they weren’t sharing the bed, not after that kiss in the car. She didn’t trust herself to stop, next time.
“You were a little, uh, cool, at reception.” Ryan said as he crossed to peer at a painting located on the wall above the bed. He pulled a small unit from his inner jacket pocket that looked like some sort of weird cell phone. He held it up to the painting, then waved his hand over the bedhead.
What in the world was he doing?
“We’re at a counseling retreat, Peter,” she replied, stressing the change of name. “I don’t think they’d be surprised by that.”
“Uh-huh.” Ryan turned to survey the room, a slight frown lining his brow.
He crossed over to where an ornamental vase with colored pebbles and a lone orchid sat on the coffee table between the sofas, sweeping his arm in a wide side-to-side motion as he did so.
Ah. He was sweeping for bugs.
She dropped her bag and opened up the manual Gavin had given to her at the reception desk. She flicked through the pages. It contained a map, a list of available activities and services—she made a note of the day spa operation. She might be able to squeeze in a massage. That would be entirely in keeping with her character, wouldn’t it? She was pretty sure Reese wouldn’t balk at the extra charges, not when it was work-related.
“There’s the welcome dinner tonight,” she noted, and glanced at her watch. They had two hours before the meal would be served in the formal dining room. “It might be a good opportunity to meet the other guests,” she murmured, before quickly scanning the rest of the program.
“Uh-huh.” Ryan crossed to the end tables, and tested each lamp, quickly glancing under the lampshade, and then under the table, before moving on to the next lamp. She watched as he crossed to the tables on either side of the bed and repeated the process. Apparently the place was littered with bugs. Great.
Ryan finally looked at her and made a circular motion with his hand. “You must want to freshen up after that long trip, hey, hon?”
Huh?
“No, I can wait until our bags come.”
“Why don’t I draw you a bath?” Ryan jumped from the bed and crossed the room to the door leading to the bathroom suite.
Run a bath? She’d have to get naked, for that. In front of Ryan.
Hell
,
no.
“No, I’m fine.”
“It won’t take long,” Ryan called back, his voice echoing from the tiled room. She heard the sound of running water, as well as the bang and crack as doors and drawers were opened and closed.
“I don’t want a bath,” she called back, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. If they needed to communicate, they could scribble notes, damn it. She didn’t want to take any layers off anywhere near Ryan. They were friends, and yes, they’d kissed a couple of times, but she wasn’t anywhere near ready to get naked with the big, sexy man.
“Sure you do.”
Clouds of steam wafted out of the open doorway, and then Ryan came out, like a dark avenging angel striding out of the clouds of the apocalypse.
“Come on,” he said, beckoning to her.
She shook her head, trying to back away as he approached.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Chapter Seven
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the doorway, a finger to his lips as he backed into the bathroom.
“I don’t want a bath,” she whispered furiously at him, heat rising in her cheeks. He closed the bathroom door with a sharp snap and crossed to the bathtub to open the faucets even further. Water gushed out, filling the two-berth tub at an alarming rate. Bubbles started to foam, and a rose-scented steam cloud wafted up. Rose? How...romantic.
“I’m not getting in that bath.”
He put the seat down on the toilet and sat, his long legs straddling the white porcelain.
“That’s fine, Vic. I just wanted to get you in here.”
She folded her arms and held them tight across her chest.
“Not a chance, cowboy.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, you can just go ahead and unthink it. It ain’t gonna happen. We’re on a job, for Pete’s sake. It’s unprofessional.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “While I’m flattered that you immediately jumped to that conclusion, I didn’t drag you in here for sex.” He looked her up and down, and the left corner of his mouth tilted. “No, I got you in here so we could talk.”
“Why in here? Why not outside on the patio?” Where there was no warm bath and rose-scented bubbles that were tempting her to drop everything and soak. She loved baths. Long, hot, steamy, relaxing baths, with a glass of wine and a good book. Or a good body. Ryan had a good body.
Crap
.
“There are listening devices planted all over that room,” Ryan said quietly, his gaze direct.
Vicky sat down on the edge of the bath. She’d figured. “Can we get rid of them?”
Ryan shrugged. “Sure. But that means that whoever planted the bugs would know that we know. It might be better for us to let them think we don’t know.”
Vicky traced a golden vein in the marble floor with her boot toe as she thought on his comments.
“There are four other couples staying here this week. Neil mentioned that we were the last to arrive. Do you think the Maxwells are on to us already?”
She looked up at him.
Ryan pursed his lips, and she stared at his mouth. She’d kissed that mouth just a couple of hours ago. And it had been magic—and oh, so wrong. Ryan was her friend. That’s all he saw her as, a friend. She knew that. In all the times he’d visited her home, he’d never once tried to take their relationship further. All those movies they’d watched on her sofa, never once had his arm stretched along the back of the lounge to “accidentally” brush her shoulders. In all the times they’d watched the games on TV while swilling some beers, he’d never once let the alcohol lower his inhibitions and make a move on her.
Jerk
.
With the exception of last year’s Christmas party, there had been no intimate contact between them, and even then, it was as though Christmas hadn’t really happened. But it had, and she still daydreamed about it. And didn’t that make her the biggest idiot? He’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in her as anything more than a friend. Now he was her partner undercover, and she had to stop daydreaming about something that would never happen, and get her act together.
“We don’t know if it’s the Maxwells, or maybe something that the resort does to monitor the counseling, or if there is something entirely different going on here.” Ryan stated after a moment of thought.
“So, what do we do, then?”
He looked at the door. “We have to assume that either someone is listening, or recording, constantly. I’ll get Drew to do a sweep. The bugs I saw would need to have a receiver within a certain range. Maybe he can locate the receiver, and we could get more answers.” He looked back at her. “Until then, we’ll have to treat our room as public space. Anyone could be listening.”
“You mean we’ll have to act like we’re married, even in here.” She ignored the little hitch in her stomach at the thought.
Crap
. What about the sleeping arrangements? They were in a luxurious resort, but there was only one, massive play-on-me bed in their suite.
Ryan nodded his expression relaxing into a grin. “Yep.” He rose from his seat and crossed to the door. “So, I guess we’re going to have to get used to being in each other’s space, so to speak.” He grinned. “For the sake of the mission, of course. Think you can handle it?”
He was enjoying this way too much. They were at a motivational retreat, where the intimate, romantic surrounds were designed to bring estranged couples together to form a stronger bond. She smiled sweetly and sidled up to him.
“Oh, I know I can,” she breathed as her hand joined his on the door handle, and his easy grin was quickly replaced with a considering look as she opened the door. She pulled him into the bedroom, and his eyes went smoke gray as he willingly followed her.
Crack
. Her palm hit his cheek. “You can be such a jerk! Is it any wonder we need counseling?” she intentionally raised her voice at his stunned expression. “And if you think we’re sharing a bed again, you can think again, buster! Not until we’ve dealt with some issues. Hope you’re comfortable on the couch, because that’s where you’ll be sleeping!”
She winked and gave him a thumbs-up before skipping back into the bathroom, slamming the door between them and his frown. She chuckled softly as she turned the faucets off in the bath. That conveniently took the pressure off of sharing a bed with Ryan. She quickly quashed the wistfulness that tried to make her go back into the bedroom to kiss and make up.
No
. Tempting thought that it was, the relationship hangover in the morning wouldn’t be worth it.
She ignored the little voice that suggested maybe one night in Ryan’s arms would be worth it, and started to undress.
* * *
Ryan followed Vicky into the dining room, trying not to grind his teeth.
Damn minx.
While he knew he shouldn’t want to, he’d been looking forward to playing Mr. & Mrs. with Vicky, but she’d outmaneuvered him.
Damn...minx
.
Gavin Dryden approached them, a cool smile of greeting on his face that Ryan assumed the man thought was welcoming.
It wasn’t. Gavin’s expression was shrewd, constantly cataloguing body language and facial nuances. Ryan purposely kept his own expression neutral.
I
play good poker
,
dude.
Don’t waste your time
.
“You made it,” Gavin said as he stopped at Vicky’s side. Ryan watched him watching Vicky’s cleavage. Underneath the assessing gaze was a trace of thinly veiled appreciation.
Yeah
,
she looks gorgeous
,
but stop looking at her like you stand a chance.
He shot Gavin a possessive glare before guiding Vicky to an empty seat at the main table. Not possessive, protective, he corrected. Vicky may be his partner, but she was his junior by experience. He had to look after her. Her safety on this case was his responsibility.
No matter what Vic might have to say about it.
He scanned the other guests. The tableau reminded him of a scene from an Agatha Christie movie, where all the beautifully dressed guests smiled and eyed each other like swamp crocodiles at sunset.
Vicky wore a floor length gown in a silken teal fabric, a discrete side slit from hem to just above the knee that performed a peep show of her curvy legs with each step she took. The rest of the dress, with its low-cut bodice and equally revealing back, skimmed her figure and brought out the sparkle in her green eyes. She wore golden strappy heels that she’d already told him hurt her feet, and it was a wonder she could walk in them, and would anyone notice if she slipped them off under the table during dinner? He’d told her to keep them on, just in case her feet stank. She hadn’t been amused.
Good, because he was good and cranky. He’d been nursing a hard-on, and hadn’t had the luxury of spending time soaking in a bubble bath. He sent Gavin another “back-off” glare and took the seat next to Vicky. Damn, the skirt had fallen open. If he looked down to his right, he would see a good portion of slim thigh.
He looked down.
Dinner was going to be excruciating. Hopefully, though, both he and Vicky would be able to scope out the group, and possibly glean who the Maxwells were masquerading as in this motley crew. And then he and Vicky could get the hell out of this place, and things could go back to the way they were before. Him in the field, and her back at the office, safe and sound.
Neil nodded at them. “Hello, glad you could join us.”
Like they’d had a choice, Ryan thought dryly. It had been explained quite politely at check-in by Meagan James, Ultima’s Guest Services Manager, that dinner for the first night of the retreat was a formal gathering. No room service would be available. Apparently it gave the guests an opportunity to get to know each other before everyone got down to the business of sorting out their emotional crap in the ensuing week.
Gavin took his seat at the opposite end of the table, while Neil rose from his position at the head.
“Good evening. I’m sure our last couple will join us shortly, but in the meantime, let me introduce you to your fellow guests for this week.
“Everyone, this is Peter and Cassandra, they’ve just arrived this afternoon. And this is Jeffrey and Margie,” he supplied, gesturing to a distinguished looking couple seated toward the end of the opposite side of the table. The way the man wore his brown hair told Ryan he was proud, and maybe just a little conceited about his thick, wavy mane with golden tips he suspected had nothing to do with activity in the sun. His wife, an attractive dark haired middle-aged woman, bore the smooth taut skin of the cosmetically enhanced, and he made a mental note to ask Drew to thoroughly look into their background. They didn’t have much information as yet on the current guests, and from the looks of things, it was going to be a trifle difficult without surnames, but the anonymity apparently helped with trust in counseling and life coaching.
Whatever
.
“We have Hank and Deborah,” Neil said.
Ryan nodded to the bald man and the pretty blonde at his side. She was cute. He looked like a hard ass. Big, thickset, Hank looked pleasant enough, but his steely blue eyes suggested a ruthlessness that had Ryan adding him to the shortlist. And Deborah, well, Deborah looked like she could do with a good steak, and she had a friendly smile that seemed just a little too eager to please.
Neil gestured to the couple opposite Vicky. “And this is Elliot and Jennifer.”
Jennifer nodded coolly, while Elliot barely looked at Ryan, his attention focused on Vicky. And her cleavage.
Ryan disliked the man on sight.
“Hi, how are you?” Elliot greeted Vicky.
She smiled at him warmly. “Fine, thanks. Is this your first day?”
Elliot nodded, and gestured to his wife. “Yeah, Jennifer and I arrived this morning.” His eyes were almost devouring Vicky.
“Hi, Jennifer. How did you travel to get here?” Vicky asked politely.
Jennifer gave her a stony-eyed glare. Yeah, the woman knew exactly what was going on in her husband’s mind, apparently.
“We flew.” Her tone was brittle in its crystal coldness.
Vicky reached for a glass of water. “You flew? How lovely. From where?”
Jennifer frowned. “San Francisco.”
“Oh, I love the bay. I have friends who live there. I hear it’s been raining lately?”
Jennifer’s frown eased. “A little.”
“Hmm, do you get out on the bay much?”
“Yes, actually. We have a yacht, and went out just this weekend.”
“Sounds lovely. And what do you do, Jennifer?”
Jennifer lifted her chin. “I design handbags. I own the Elka brand.”
“Oh, I have one of those handbags. Do you do matching wallets?”
“As a matter of fact, we’re working on a range for spring,” Jennifer admitted.
Ryan sat back in his chair as he listened to Vicky thaw the woman out. Unbelievable. In just a few sentences, Vicky had managed to obtain enough information for them to find out the rest of this couple’s identities.
“So what do you do, Elliot?” Vicky asked.
“I, uh, I work in software.”
Ryan leaned forward. Simon Maxwell had an affinity with computers.
“You’re a salesman, Elliot. Plain and simple.” Jennifer snapped. She turned to Vicky. “He works at SmartComm.”
Ryan tried not to show his surprise, although Vicky wasn’t quite so successful. SmartComm was the leading technology provider for new phone and personal device technology. Advances with new voice-recognition interfaces, flexible screens and nanotech batteries had propelled the company into the global communication arena as a Goliath.
“Oh, really? That’s impressive,” Vicky said faintly.
“Thanks. I really want to get into management though. Have some input in the direction of the company, you know? That’s why we’re here,” Elliot stated, jerking his head at his wife, who just rolled her eyes.
“Hey, maybe you could help me with some issues I’m having with my network,” Hank suggested.
“Oh, Hank, I’m sure Elliot has better things to do,” Deborah said, beaming at Elliot. And just like that, Ryan saw Elliot’s attention switch from Vicky to Deborah. He pitied Jennifer.
“You’re the reason we’re late,” a woman’s voice snapped from the doorway.
“Hey, I can’t help it if I take pride in my appearance,” a male voice responded.
“Get over yourself.” This time the woman’s voice was lower, huskier, but the group had no trouble hearing her.
Ryan turned to look at the approaching couple.
His jaw dropped.
A prettier couple he had yet to see. The man was of above average height, with sandy brown hair and brown eyes. He was tanned, with chiseled features that could easily grace a catwalk or movie screen. His expensive suit draped a fit, muscular frame, the kind of physique that required extensive weight training and truckloads of protein powder. His companion was only slightly shorter, with a mane of tawny blonde hair, long shapely legs, and startling blue eyes. She was beautiful, with the confidence of a woman who knew the effect she had on those around her.