Lucy Monroe - Satisfaction Guaranteed

She looked up at Ethan. His brows were drawn together in a frown and he looked at the hedge almost as if he could see through it and was watching the two people move away.

“What is it?” she asked quietly.

He shook his head again, indicating silence. Beth obeyed. The other couples passed by on the other side of the hedge, some talking, some quiet, but none saying anything nearly as interesting as the original foursome.

Ethan looked down at his watch, looked up at Beth, and said, “Come here.”

That was all the warning she got before he kissed her so expertly, her toes curled in her high-heeled sandals. He tunneled his fingers into her hair and devoured her with his mouth until she was panting and hot with arousal, rubbing her body against his and holding his head to her with desperate hands.

A chime sounded and he jerked away from her with a curse. “That damn near got out of hand.”

She would have agreed if she could have breathed to do so.

He didn’t say anything else and she had no idea why he had kissed her, only that it proved she was still dangerously susceptible to him. Something she had known, but would have been happy forgoing another object lesson on.

She figured out why he’d done it when they were the last couple to find the center. Prescott and several others looked at Beth with knowing expressions and she realized she looked as disheveled as she felt. Ethan looked a little worse for the wear, too. She’d mussed his hair and he had a smear of her lipstick near his mouth.

She indicated it discreetly and he smiled that devil’s smile he used sometimes, then pulled a white handkerchief from an interior pocket on his blazer and wiped the evidence from his face. Everyone would think they’d been lost to passion rather than lost in the maze.

No one would guess they were the last couple to find the center because they’d been busy spying on the others. It was smart, but Beth felt used. Her reaction to Ethan wasn’t part of the case, but he wasn’t above using it as a blind. She knew that made sense and told her susceptible heart to chill out, but there was an ache inside her that would not go away.

Prescott served champagne to his guests and congratulated the first couple to find the center before leading them out of the maze and back to the house, where dessert was being served.

The rest of the evening was uneventful and always mindful of Ethan’s warning about talking in the car, Beth waited until they were back at the cabin with everything secure before bringing up the odd conversation they had overheard.

She slipped her shoes off and curled up on the sofa, her frothy cocktail dress flowing around her and sliding silkily against her stocking-clad thighs. For once, the kittens did not come to join her. They slept curled together in the center of the daybed in the spare room. They’d lifted their heads and blinked big kitty eyes at her when she’d gone in to check on them, but gone directly back to sleep.

She wished at least one of them had followed her into the living room. She could use a diversion from the tension that had nothing to do with the case shimmering around her and Ethan. “He’s getting ready to auction something off.”

Ethan stripped off his blazer and kicked off his shoes, his green eyes burning with something besides interest in the case. “Definitely, but we don’t have a clue what. There’s not even a whisper about it among my contacts.”

She adjusted her skirt over her legs so nothing showed except her toes peeking from beneath the two layers of chiffon. “He’s careful.”

“Not careful enough.” Ethan peeled off his turtleneck and tossed it on top of his blazer. It was quickly followed by his belt.

She didn’t ask why, but did her best to ignore the expanse of chest rippling as he stretched before sinking to the couch beside her.

She kept her gaze locked to his face. “What did you think of the two men arguing over which one of them was going to win the bid?”

Ethan stretched his arm along the back of the couch, only an inch from where her bare shoulder leaned against it. “I think neither was as interesting as the American woman.”

“In what way?”

“She’s filled with rage and her partner has no clue.”

“Rage?” Beth had heard disgust, even mockery, but not rage in the other woman’s voice.

“She’s good at hiding it, but it’s there. If she’s not a professional, she’s next to it.”

Her heart gave a funny twinge at Ethan’s obvious admiration for the other woman. “A professional agent?”

“Yes.”

“But that shouldn’t come as a surprise. I’m sure a lot of Prescott’s buyers are agents working for governments or dishonest organizations.”

“But she’s not the buyer. The Arab is. She’s working with him, but I don’t buy it’s because their interests coincide. I think it’s telling that she waited to give him her warning until after the man had talked to the Russian.”

Beth pleated the fabric of her skirt between her fingers, trying not to reach out and touch the bare chest in front of her. “You think she wanted to hear what was said?”

“Yes.”

“Then why point out the dangers of the conversation at all?”

“To keep the Arab off balance.” Again that note of admiration in her voice.

“Do you think she’s one of our own?”

Ethan’s hand slid down so his thumb made contact with her shoulder. “We’d know if another agency was targeting Prescott. At least I think we would, but I’ve got a feeling about her.”

He wasn’t caressing her, it was a simple point of contact. A small point of contact. And yet her insides were liquefying and her breath was coming faster. She should pull away, but she didn’t want to. Which was bad. Very, very bad.

She licked her suddenly dry lips. “You once told me that your instincts never mislead you.”

His gaze was fixed on her mouth. “They don’t.”

“Then we’ve got to assume something is going on here that we don’t know about.”

His eyes moved to meet hers. “I’ve got a friend I can call and find out what he knows. He’s got connections in Washington that run on a different path than mine.”

“We can have Alan check with his sources at the FBI.”

“Hotwire has sources in the Bureau. There’s no need to bother Hyatt.” The tone of his voice said he’d rather eat his boots than contact the other agent. Was he jealous?

“Is Hotwire a fellow Texan?”

“Actually, no. He’s from Georgia. An ex-special forces, then ex-mercenary. He does some work for official channels in an unofficial capacity. He also runs a security company with his wife and a friend of his. I’ll call him tomorrow and ask him to check into it for me.”

“I don’t think you got a lot of comments on your report cards in school that said things like, ‘plays well with others.’”

His brows drew together in confusion. “Your point?”

She shrugged, rubbing her shoulder along his thumb and dangerously multiplying her body’s reaction to him. “I’m surprised you’re going to an outsider for help.”

“He’s a friend.”

“Wow, I didn’t think you had friends.”

He didn’t look confused now. He looked offended. “What would you call my fellow agents?”

“Coworkers.”

“They’re my friends.”

“If you say so.”

“What are you trying to say here?”

She wasn’t sure why she was saying anything at all, except maybe she wanted that label for herself and needed it to be real. “You don’t run ops with the same partner twice in a row. You do your extreme sports with the others, but last year, not one of them commented when you came to work on your birthday.”

He rolled his eyes, his expression saying her logic was not impressing him. “They don’t know my birthday.”