About the Author

Award-winning author and columnist CANDACE “CANDY” HAVENS lives in Texas with her mostly understanding husband, two children and two dogs, Scoobie and Gizmo. Candy is a nationally syndicated entertainment columnist for FYI Television. She has interviewed just about everyone in Hollywood from George Clooney and Orlando Bloom to Nicole Kidman and Kate Beckinsale. You can hear Candy weekly on The Big 96.3 in the Dallas Fort Worth Area. Her popular online Writer’s Workshop has more than thirteen hundred students and provides free classes to professional and aspiring writers.

Dear Reader,

I’m so excited to be one of the newest Blaze® Babes and I hope you enjoy this, my first Blaze®.

Have you ever done something impulsive or crazy that turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to you? That’s how my heroine Mariska Stonegate finds herself involved with an intriguing and mysterious man. She decides to give in to her instincts and finds a way to spend some quality time with a hunky stranger.

My hero Jackson Walker is a CIA agent on the run. Something has happened and now everyone is after him, and he doesn’t know why. He’s a good guy who has to make some difficult choices in order to survive. When he accidentally bumps into Mariska, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have a life with this sexy woman. When she wants to spend a weekend making passionate love, he can’t say no to her.

Please e-mail me at candacehavensbooks@gmail.com and tell me what you think about the book, or you can find me on twitter.com/candacehavens as well as My Space, Facebook and Live Journal, all of which can be found via www.candacehavens.com. I look forward to hearing from you.

Enjoy!

Candy

Take Me if you Dare

Candace Havens

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my editor Kathryn Lye for the encouragement, and

tough love when necessary. You are the best.

Thank you so much

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Copyright

Prologue

JACKSON WAS ALIVE. At least that much he could determine from the excruciating pain in his ribs every time he tried to breathe. Testing his arms and legs. He was relieved when he could move them.

Well, there’s that.

As the fuzziness cleared from his brain, he remembered exactly when everything went to hell. The moment he walked into Vladimir’s office at Club Loi in Rayong he had known his cover was blown. The gunrunner greeted him without his smarmy smile, a sign that all was not well. Vlad hadn’t said a word, only motioned to his men.

Jackson fought, but he was one unarmed man against eight with assault weapons. Still he’d been able to take down three of them before someone had coldcocked him from the left with the butt of an XM8. That was the last thing he remembered.

His fingers found the large egg-shaped bump on his temple and he winced. Hope I at least threw a punch as I went down.

Forcing his eyes open, Jackson tried to survey the room. It took a minute to focus. Paint peeled off the ceiling and the room smelled of dirty socks. He wasn’t at the Ritz.

Moving slowly, he sat up on the edge of the bed. From the stiffness and bruising it seemed like every part of his body had been pummeled. Jackson pushed the pain aside. He forced himself to move. Stumbling to the dirty window, he opened it and was assailed by the smell of dead fish. Bits and pieces of a conversation between two fighting fishermen, and a flashing neon light announcing nude girls, told him all he needed to know.

“How the hell did I get to Bangkok?” The words came out in a harsh whisper. Turning toward the sink, he stared at himself in the mirror. His cheek was swollen, lip busted, but he’d looked worse. The bloodied clothes would be a problem. Rolling his neck to loosen the tension, he glanced around the room for something he could use.

He noticed a pile of folded clothes on a chair next to the door. That wasn’t what made him pause. It was the typewritten paper on top that captured his attention.

You’ve been compromised.

If I were you, I’d run.

“Hell.” Jackson shoved a hand through his hair. “A damn burn notice.” He wasn’t dead yet, but he would be in a matter of hours. The Company didn’t like loose ends and that was exactly what he’d become.

1

MARISKA STONEGATE WAITED in the tropical paradise known as the Aqua Bar at the Four Seasons Hotel in Bangkok. The tranquil setting was in crazy contrast to the anticipation that zinged through her body.

Less than three hours ago she’d received a case file on a missing man. Desmond Gladstone, a husband and father of a toddler, had traveled to Bangkok on business three days ago. His wife hadn’t heard from him since the day after he landed. At the wife’s insistence, the hotel finally checked the room. Except for his bag of clothes and toiletries it was empty. The maid said no one had slept in the bed since the guest had checked in. That’s when the wife panicked.

The Thai police weren’t as helpful as Mrs. Gladstone would have liked. Since there was no sign of distress in his room, they believed he had wanted to disappear, or that he was having an affair. Mariska’s company, Stonegate Investigative Agency, had been hired by the man’s wife to find out what happened.

The case had not been a part of Mariska’s vacation plans. She’d landed in Bangkok earlier in the day ready to shop for a few days, and then she would head to Phuket Beach for a long vacation.

That’s what I get for turning on my phone.

Unfortunately, she had hit the on button, and now she had a case to solve before she could run away to the place of sun-kissed skin and mai tais.

It had been a tough year, and she craved time away from home, and the well-meaning friends who were constantly in her business. Her life wasn’t going according to plan, not that she really had one. But she was fairly certain she hadn’t spent all those years in school to work in a job where she felt like she was barely keeping her head above water.

She couldn’t even go on vacation without work interfering.

Closing her eyes, she pushed the negative thoughts from her brain.

This case is a minor bump on my road to fun.

At least the gang at SIA had hired a local private detective in Bangkok to get some of the legwork done before she arrived.

Mr. Thomas had discovered Gladstone cleared customs, checked into the hotel and then disappeared. That was a start at least. The one thing that bugged her about the mistress theory was if he was in the middle of a tryst—why not stay at the Four Seasons? Room service, six-hundred-thread-count sheets, it was hard to pass up.

A call to his workplace had revealed Mr. Gladstone was on a two-week vacation and they didn’t expect him back until the end of the month. Mr. G had lied to his wife.

In Mariska’s handbook that made him the winner of the Most Likely to be a Scumbag award.

Soft classical guitar music played and there was a hint of jasmine in the air. She’d never been in such a relaxing bar, and wished that her surroundings would help calm her anxiety about the case. Sipping her San Pellegrino and lime, she turned on her bar stool so she had a better view of the entry.

That’s when she saw Matt Damon in a beige linen suit perfectly tailored to his body. Mariska touched her chin to keep her jaw from dropping. He commanded the room as he stepped in.

Oh, my God. No way.

Unable to peel her eyes away, it took a second for her to see that it was apparently Matt’s doppelganger. The eyes were a different color and this guy was taller, broader in the shoulders. And this guy had an air of danger. Not the scary serial killer kind, more a bad boy searching for his next heartbreak. The confidence of the man was nothing short of impressive.

Oh, baby, you can break my heart any day.

His almost perfect face had been marred with a pink scar on his lip. The small imperfection sent Mariska’s curious mind into hyperdrive. Had he been protecting someone? Was he one of those guys who worked in fight clubs for a living? Muay Thai fighters were a dime a dozen in Bangkok. More than anything she itched to run her thumb across the spot and kiss it. Her pelvis tightened and her breath caught on the thought of touching him.

Lust, much?

Turning his cerulean eyes toward her, he smiled. Holy crap. She gave a tiny gasp. He was panty-melting hot. It had been too long since she’d spent time with a man like him. Damn if she didn’t want to whisk him up to her hotel room right that minute. The idea of plastering herself against his frame made her squirm on the bar stool.

Can you say stalker? You’re here for business, Mar. Get a grip.

She chewed on her lip. Maybe if she could settle the case fast.

Before the solitude of the beach, I could get into some serious trouble with that guy.

She tore her eyes away and concentrated on her glass of sparkling water.

When he sat down beside her, she almost choked. Coughing, she turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

I’ve been waiting all my life. Mariska cocked her head as if she couldn’t believe it. “Mr. Thomas?”

He watched her briefly and then smiled. “Yes.” He stuck out his hand. “Were you expecting someone else?”

The warmth of him sent a thrill of anticipation through her as she put her hand in his. “No, sorry, I was distracted.” By your awesome hotness. “I’m Mariska Stonegate. Thank you for meeting me.”

“It’s no problem, and it’s lovely to meet you.” His eyes held hers as if he had nothing better to do than gaze at her.

After a long silence, she realized she’d been staring. Reluctantly taking her hand from his, she sat up a little straighter. “I’m sorry, you weren’t what I was expecting.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Embarrassed she’d actually said the words out loud, she waved a hand as if to whisk the thoughts away. “It doesn’t matter. Have you found out any more information? I read your report about Mr. Gladstone not sleeping in his bed and that his luggage was still in his room. He’d called his wife earlier that day when he landed and told her he was fine, so I’m not sure what to think—”

The bartender walked up to ask what he wanted to drink. Mr. Thomas ordered the same thing as Mariska and his attention moved back to her. “You were saying?”

“That I had the information you’d e-mailed earlier. May I ask your opinion? What do you think happened to Mr. Gladstone? Has he run off with a mistress or do you suspect foul play. The police weren’t very forthcoming when I asked if there might have been other businessmen who have gone missing.”

Nodding, he leaned forward. “It happens in this country more often than anyone will admit. That’s why it’s always good to travel with a companion. It’s an amazing city, but strange things happen here all the time. People disappear, never to be found again.”

“Hmm. My mind was set on a different direction where Gladstone was concerned.” Mariska wasn’t sure how to broach the next question, but they were both professionals so she decided to lay it out there. “I’m wondering if—you know, a lonely businessman traveling to an exotic locale—if he …” She could feel her cheeks turn pink. She was far from a prude, but this subject was tough to talk about with a complete stranger.

“If perhaps he took in a bit of the local color? Visiting one of the many establishments where a man such as himself could possibly relieve some stress,” he said, picking up her train of thought.

She laughed at that. “I’m not sure I could have put it so delicately, but yes, that’s what I’m asking.”

He glanced over her shoulder. “I see my associate. Please excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

Mariska didn’t want to spy, but she couldn’t help watching as he prowled across the bar. There was something about the way his body moved like a big cat stalking prey. At the entryway he spoke with a white-haired Asian gentleman wearing a panama hat and holding a file folder. Mr. Thomas handed the man some bills, and the older gentleman gave him the folder.

The bartender delivered the drink and she paid for it. As Thomas approached her again, he read through the file. Sitting down without glancing up from the paperwork.

That must be some interesting reading. “Your drink is here.” She pointed to the glass when he sat down.

“Thanks,” he said, without looking up from the file. “My associate brought me some news about our Mr. Gladstone.” He frowned as he glanced up at her. “It’s as I suspected. Mr. Gladstone asked the bellman to recommend a good place for a sauna and massage.”

“Is that such a bad thing? After an eighteen-hour flight it sounds like a great idea to me.” As soon as she said the words she regretted them. “Oh, a massage.”

“Exactly.” Mr. Thomas’s right eyebrow rose.

Embarrassed didn’t begin to describe how she felt. She really did need to pay better attention. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself in front of this guy. “Sorry, I’m a little slow today. Couldn’t sleep on the plane. So, do we have a location?”

“The bellman gave him several options, but had no idea which one Mr. Gladstone chose.”

Mar pursed her lips. “Hmm. Well, I guess I’d better check them all. At least I have a lead now. I should get started.”

He looked at her as if she had jumped off the crazy train. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go off on your own.”

“Do you have a problem with that?” She’d run across her share of chauvinistic males. It happened a lot in the investigative business, but she was disappointed that Mr. Thomas didn’t think she could do the job. His hunk factor went down at least a third. She didn’t care how big his muscles were, or that her fingers had an urge to run through his hair.

He held up his hands in surrender. “No, not at all. I know for a fact women are as capable as men, many times more so. I also know your mostly female agency has a highly successful closed-case ratio.” At her surprised look he explained. “I do my homework, Ms. Stonegate. I had to make sure you were a legitimate organization before agreeing to help with your case.

“What I meant was that you shouldn’t go to these places alone. I’m sure you can handle yourself, but as I mentioned before, it’s best to have a companion while traveling in Bangkok if at all possible. I’ll escort you, no additional fee required.”

Mariska was once again embarrassed for jumping to a conclusion. “That’s generous of you, but I’d feel more comfortable compensating you for your time.” She sounded so calm and professional. Inside she was jumping up and down like a teenager who’d met her favorite heartthrob.

It’s going to be such a drag having to spend a few more hours with the hottest guy I’ve met in a really long time.

She almost laughed out loud. When this case was over she did need a good long break. And sex. She needed a lot of sex. Maybe then she wouldn’t want to jump the first cute guy to come along.

He checked his watch. “It will be a few more hours before the bars and massage parlors open. Is there something you’d like to do until then?”

Mariska’s mind went straight to a naughty place and she had to make herself not glance down at his groin.

She leaned toward him. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’d like to go to bed.”

2

JACKSON COULDN’T believe his luck. Mariska Stonegate landing in his lap was a gift. That they’d both ended up in the same hotel bar looking for information was nothing short of divine intervention. He’d have to thank the universe the first chance he had. Of course right then he had to concentrate on keeping his pants from tenting.

He knew what she meant by the “bed” comment. She’d arrived in Thailand after an eighteen-hour flight, but parts of his body weren’t as understanding as his brain. Shifting in his seat, he imagined a nice cold shower.

It wasn’t easy, since Mariska Stonegate was beyond enticing. Long legs poked out of a flowered skirt, and he’d even noticed her dark red toenails. Curves in all the right places and her eyes—he’d never seen a shade of green so light they were almost translucent. Her curly hair had been pulled back in a haphazard ponytail, giving her the look of a college coed on summer break.

Jackson knew better. She was intelligent and obviously damn good at what she did. Even in his business he was aware of SIA. They worked in every part of the world. Then there was the fact that her mother, Janice Stonegate, was a legendary operative. That last name had been his first clue that Mariska was someone who could help. He wondered if she even knew her mother had ever been in the CIA, before quitting to open up her own security and investigative firm.

People in his business knew about Janice, because she was one of the few international operatives to transition into civilian life successfully. She’d been killed in a plane crash last year, and many wondered if, after thirty years away, her past had finally caught up with her.

Jackson couldn’t believe his luck in running into her daughter. When he’d walked into the bar he’d been looking for an ally. Dawson, his handler, said he was sending a friend. Dawson had a history of using women to convey messages, and she was the only one there. When he heard her last name, he knew he’d hit the mark.

She might not even know that she was the “friend,” but she would have resources, something Jackson was seriously low on at the moment.

She seemed like a genuinely nice woman. It was unfortunate he had to pull her into his plan, but he had no choice. If it made Jackson a lying bastard, so be it.

For once, luck certainly seemed to be on his side. When he discovered Mr. Thomas was a private investigator, Jackson had slipped right into the role. Mariska was an asset in his world, and he needed her more than she could ever imagine. The fact that the image of those gorgeous eyes and generous lips would now be burned into his brain complicated things, but he had to stay on task.

When the real Mr. Thomas had walked into the bar, Jackson knew exactly who he was. The wary eyes that searched the room made him easy to pick out. He had the look of a man who had seen too much. Jackson sometimes saw the same thing when he glanced at a mirror.

The old man had fallen for the “assistant act,” when Jackson told the private investigator that he worked for Ms. Stonegate. It was amazing how a few hundred dollars could make someone accept even the flimsiest of explanations. Mr. Thomas hadn’t batted an eye. He’d handed over the documents, which had helped bring Jackson up to speed on the case.

The papers he held gave Jackson an easy in. The break he needed to become a part of Mariska’s world. He’d help her find Mr. Gladstone. It was the least he could do. Then he’d use Mariska and her resources for his own agenda.

He coughed to cover the long pause and then gave her his most seductive grin. “If you’re asking me up to your room for a bit of physical exertion—”

She laughed, her hands flitting about nervously. For an experienced P.I., she seemed so flustered around him. He appreciated the fact that she wasn’t jaded like most of the people in her business.

“I so did not mean that the way it came out,” she said. “I meant, I need a nap, which is more than obvious.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure what it is about you that ties up my tongue.”

He allowed himself a second to think about her tongue circling his … Damn. He really would need that cold shower if he didn’t stop thinking about her that way.

“I am wondering if you could satisfy my curiosity about something.” Thankfully she interrupted his thoughts again. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who would be a private investigator in Bangkok.”

Huh. She was perceptive. Shrugging, he told her the truth. “I’m not.” At her sharp intake of breath he added, “I’m more of a consultant, and I don’t live here full-time. Bangkok is a temporary home until I clear some cases of my own.

“You know the rules about client confidentiality, but I can assure you they are along the same lines as what you are working on. That’s why I thought it might be a good idea if we pooled our resources. I’ve spent a great deal of time here and know the city and its people well. I promise to be nothing but an asset to you.”

Everything he said was true. When he’d been burned he’d been working on a human trafficking ring out of Rayong. Vlad’s organization did much more than gun-running. Jackson had managed to get inside the operation and he’d made progress. But somewhere along the line Jackson had screwed things up royally, and now he’d spend whatever life he had left finding out where he’d gone wrong. Once the Company, or worse, Vlad’s assassins, found him, he was a dead man.

Mariska studied him for several minutes. She was intelligent, and not easily fooled. He’d managed to use his rusty flirting skills to distract her but that would only last so long.

He glanced at his watch again to change the subject. “We have a few hours for you to rest. I can pick you up at, say, ten? We can grab a quick bite and then head off to our first stop.” It would also give him time to research the case and Mariska. He wondered if the SIA’s resources were why Dawson had set it up so that he’d find her.

Picking up the folder, he read. “Liu Mae’s Sauna and Massage is probably the best place to start. I’ve heard—” he pursed his lips, not wanting to go into details “—a few things about that establishment from some of my contacts.”

“What kind of things?” She fingered the handle on her bag.

The narrowing of her eyes made him think she might be suspicious of something he said, but he couldn’t imagine what. So he told her the truth. “That the women there get paid a great deal of money to do special favors for their clientele. Let’s say there are no boundaries.”

She scrunched up her nose. “Please tell me no animals are involved. I’m all for sex any way you like it, but if there’s a donkey, I’m so outta there.” She laughed. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

The “sex any way you like it” comment caused his pants to bulge and he painfully crossed his legs to hide the evidence. His mind had flashed to a dangerous place where he had her up against a wall with her legs wrapped around him. “I don’t think you have to worry about that sort of extreme, though you may see some tools of the trade,” he teased her.

Standing, she pulled her bag onto her shoulder. “I don’t think I even want to know what you mean. Give me a couple of hours to crash, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.” Holding out her hand, she waited for him to do the same. “It’s been a pleasure,” she said as he took her hand in his.

Her fingers were long and tapered and the skin soft against his calluses. Jackson held on a little too long. When she looked down at their hands linked together, he let go. Then she turned on her heels and walked out.

Believe me, the pleasure was all mine. Jackson watched as the lower half of him still fought for control.

He noticed three other men entering the bar glance at her as she left. A strange sensation came over him. A protective feeling that was quite unfamiliar.

Mine. He desired her in a bad way.

The instinct to punch them for staring at her was strong, but he stayed put. As he watched her hips sway under the flowery dress, how could he blame them for looking? There was a freshness, no, an innocence about her that he hadn’t come across in a really long time, an unusual trait in her line of work.

Jackson chugged his mineral water. It was really too bad he didn’t have time for that cold shower. He pulled out his wallet but the bartender waved him away.

“The lady already paid,” the man said as he picked up Jackson’s glass and wiped the bar.

Lucky for him he’d kept the folder. He’d have some time to do a bit of footwork on his own.

He also had to see a man about a passport. If he were ever going to get out of this godforsaken city, he’d need a couple of new identities.

Before that happened, he had a mess to clean up. When he found out who had sent him on this one-way road to hell, he’d kill them.

3

MAR WAS DETERMINED to not act like an idiot when she saw Mr. Thomas later that evening. She lay in her bed surprised that she’d been able to sleep for a couple of hours. The alarm on her cell had chimed her awake, and now she had a half hour to shower and change.

Yawning, she stretched and moved her legs to the side of the bed, wishing she could sleep a few more hours. Finally, she pushed herself up and went into the well-appointed bathroom. The Four Seasons never skimped when it came to linens or bathrooms. She turned on the hot water and thought about her meeting with Mr. Thomas.

“What kind of detective am I that I don’t even know his first name? I talked to him for almost an hour.” She stared at herself in the mirror wondering how much longer she could hold up this charade.

The problem was, she was no detective. Not really. Everything she knew she’d learned from studying for her Ph.D. in clinical psychology with an emphasis on the criminal mind, and researching case files at the office. She was nothing more than a figurehead, though so far she’d been able to fool most of the agency’s clients.

Two years ago she was well on her way to becoming an FBI profiler, at least that was her dream. That had changed with her mother’s death.

Sad, since her mother was one of the best in the business. Of course, her mom, the founder of SIA, had also been a CIA agent, a fact Mar had only discovered a few months ago while digging through some private papers.

When she confronted her father about it, he’d said, “That part of her life was over long before you were born, hon. We don’t discuss it.”

Mar had tried to press him for more, but it was useless.

Obviously, Mar hadn’t picked up any of her mother’s special interrogation skills, because she’d let the matter fall.

She was good at subterfuge. She’d not only fooled the clients, but also several people at SIA headquarters. At first, when she fumbled and stumbled they believed she was still mourning her mother. She was lucky that a few of her friends, Chi, Katie and a couple of others knew the truth. They helped to hide the fact that she was in way over her head.

When it looked like everyone might figure out what was going on, she’d solved the case of a missing child by sheer luck. Mariska had been coming back from a trip to Houston when she’d stopped at a roadside barbeque joint for some ribs. There was a little girl alone in the restroom washing her hands. When Mariska saw her, she knew that it was Maddie Lennon, who had been missing for three weeks. There’d been Amber alerts and everything.

She’d checked the stalls to make sure the little girl was alone and then locked the bathroom door so no one could get in. Trying to be as calm as possible she told Maddie that she was a detective like on TV, and that she was safe. Maddie didn’t say a word but she didn’t try to run away. Mariska pulled out her phone and called the police.

The woman and man who’d taken the little girl had nearly beaten down the door until Mariska had shouted the police were on the way. The couple hadn’t made it to the restaurant’s entrance before the owner of the place pulled a shotgun and had them down on their knees. God, you had to love Texans. Later he told Mariska he knew that when they were willing to leave a child behind they were up to no good.

When the police arrived they took the couple into custody and Mar’s hands were shaking so bad she almost couldn’t unlock the door.

A few hours after that Maddie had been reunited with her parents. It was a happy ending and Mar was more determined than ever to be better at her new job. She studied the case files of the other investigators and brought in some of her best friends to work with the agency.

While she had no illusions that she would ever be a great investigator like her mother, she wanted to be legitimately useful. This assignment in Bangkok was a way to test herself even if she’d much rather be on vacation.

Now she was going into the underworld of a dangerous city with a sexy guy who had more secrets than she could ever imagine. Oh, she might not be the world’s greatest detective but she could read people. Mr. Thomas was hiding something, though her gut told her he was sincere in wanting to help her.

There was something about the man that made her heat from the inside out. She’d seen, and even dated, plenty of hot guys. None of them had pulled at her the way he did. None of them had ever quite caused her stomach to twitter with a fiery glance. Or made her tongue do crazy somersaults so that every sentence she spoke was an effort.

She blew out a big breath and stepped into the shower.

What she really needed to do was get her libido under control. After standing under the hot water for a few minutes and soaping off she turned the tap to cold.

“Brrrr.” Her teeth chattered.

It was amazing how frigid water could make a girl’s body behave. She had to concentrate on the case. Solve this one and you get a vacation. Then you can go back to being a figurehead behind your nice safe desk, in your nice safe office, researching cases for the other detectives.

Her mind wandered to Mr. Thomas.

Maybe she didn’t want to be safe any more.

“IT’S PROBABLY BEST IF we act like a couple looking for a good time,” Jackson said. Over a steamy bowl of Phonoodles she’d finally learned his name.

He took her hand in his as they walked down the street. She knew it was to protect her from the throng of people here in the red light district. She’d been a lot of places, but none as crowded as this. Well, maybe Times Square on New Year’s. But this wasn’t any special day. Between those in storefronts hawking their wares to street vendors with chickens and lizards hanging from their stalls, it was nothing short of overwhelming.

I don’t think I’ll be trying the lizard.

As his fingers wrapped around hers it was so easy for her to pretend that they belonged together. In the last hour over dinner her determination to be professional had wavered. He’d arranged it so they had a quiet table and that she had everything she needed. It was as if he were taking care of her.

At any other time she might have been annoyed with a man ordering for her, but with Jackson, well, he was different. Not only did he have a thorough knowledge of the language, he was in tune with her taste. The noodles were exactly what she wanted. The right hint of heat and curry.

“For someone who doesn’t live here, you certainly know how to speak Thai. You guys were talking so fast I couldn’t even pick up one of the few words I know.”

Jackson squeezed her hand, and the warmth seemed to spread through her limbs. This guy did things to her like no other.

“I travel a great deal and pick up languages as I go,” he said. “I guess some might say I have an affinity for it.”

They were on a busy street in the Banglampu district and only a few blocks from their destination. The small talk was Mar’s way of easing her nerves. She had let Jackson become a distraction and that was far from a good thing, especially since she had no idea what she would do once they arrived at the sauna and massage parlor.

Should I question the owner? Try to find out if they’ve ever seen or heard of Mr. Gladstone? That didn’t seem such a smart idea since people in these kinds of places valued confidentiality.

Mar wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know a couple of hundred dollars in the right hands could buy all the information she needed. That’s why she had more than a thousand tucked under her bra in a special pouch. The problem was how to know which palm to grease. That’s something they didn’t teach in the textbooks.

I should have called Katie and asked her what questions to pose. I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do once we get in there.

As they turned the corner she saw the neon sign. Her stomach churned.

Be a big girl and do the job. Follow procedure.

Thanks to her degree, and the studying and observing she’d done the last year, maybe she could at least fake her way through this thing. Gather the information. It was an easy first step. Mar almost snorted at that.

Jackson stopped halfway down the block and turned to her. “Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

“Nervous?” She repeated his words because she wasn’t sure what to say. As far as he knew she was a seasoned professional, a jaded detective who did this sort of thing all the time. “Of course not. Still a little jet-lagged.” Liar. “I’m trying to determine the best course of action. Deep thoughts and all that.” Shut up. Deep thoughts? What the hell am I saying?

Eyeing her curiously, he smiled. “Like I said before, it’s probably best to act like we’re together. If you don’t mind, I’ll take the lead. I’ll ask for a couples massage, then we can tag team them.”

At that her eyes snapped up. Naked? In a room with Jackson? Oh, my. “Sure, I’ll take your lead on this. You know the area and the people better than I do.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

“It will probably be easier to get information if we have a couple of the girls alone. While we’re getting the massage we’ll try to talk to them.”

Sounded like a great plan to Mar—one where she didn’t make an idiot of herself by running back to her hotel to hide under the covers. She would never do that, but she’d thought about it more than once throughout the evening.

There was one big problem in giving up—Stonegate had a one hundred percent success rate on closing cases and she refused to be the one to screw that up.

No. You will pay attention and help Jackson get the information you need. Pretend. Like theater class, assume the role of the doting wife. I’ll imagine he’s the man of my dreams—okay, that won’t be such a stretch.

Since he knew the language, Jackson would be doing most of the talking and she could follow along like a good little puppy. No one need ever know she was a terrified neophyte.

This might work out well after all.

“Great,” she murmured as they passed through the door into the tacky reception area. Deep red walls overpowered the small space and there were golden statuettes on every available surface. The art on the walls was of nude Asian women pleasuring themselves in a variety of positions. The place was one giant cliché, exactly what she thought of when she imagined a Bangkok massage parlor.

Mar swallowed hard and concentrated on the old woman behind the high desk.

“You American?” she said in English.

“Yes.” Jackson gave her a devastating grin.

She looked him up and down as if he were a piece of beef for sale. “Prices here.” She pointed up at a board behind her.

If Mar’s currency exchange rates were right in her head, this would be a cheap night. Couples massage was listed in Thai, French and English, and it was only a hundred. There was a dash and then, EXTRAS $200 American Dollars.

Mar didn’t want to think about what EXTRAS meant.

“We want the couples massage. No extras,” Jackson told the woman.

That last comment caused her to choke, and Mar stifled a cough with her hand.

“You pay first.” The old woman stuck out her hand.

Jackson pulled out some bills, making sure to separate a twenty to tip the older woman.

She winked at him and then pushed a button so that a door to their left opened. “Third door. Green one. You undress then push button by bed. Girls there in a minute.”

Undress? Mar’s hands trembled and she stuffed them into the pockets of her jeans. As she followed Jackson down the hall, she seriously wondered why she’d thought it a good idea to catch dinner before they began investigating. Her stomach didn’t seem to want to play nice, and it gurgled in a not-so-sexy fashion.

Taking a deep breath, she moved through the door when he held it open for her.

This room was a bit more Zen than the entry. There were two massage tables with what looked like clean sheets and blankets. There was a place on the back side of the door to hang clothing. Two candles burned on a shelf with a variety of bottled oils.

Jackson unbuttoned his shirt and hung it on one of the hooks.

Mar gasped. The man was beyond gorgeous. Well-defined muscles on his back led down to narrow hips. What intrigued her the most were the scars. She was no expert but more than one looked like it had come from a bullet.

He glanced back to look at her. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Nudity doesn’t bother me like it does some people. I’ll get undressed and then lay down so you’ll have some privacy.”

Mar’s hands waved madly of their own volition. “It’s no big deal. We’re professionals doing what it takes to get the job done. And if we get a great massage in the process, who’s complaining?” The words were lame even to her but she couldn’t seem to shut up.

“So are we expected to strip all the way down?” She turned her back as Jackson unzipped his jeans. “I’m not sure if I should wear my underwear or not. I never am. It’s crazy. I get massages all the time, but I’ve never had the courage to ask.” She kept blathering on, to her own chagrin.

She heard him move. “I suppose it depends on the client and their level of modesty. Doesn’t bother me. My lower back’s giving me trouble so I’m losing the shorts. Okay, I’m on the table. I’ll keep my head to the wall until you are under the sheets.”

Mar glanced over at the table and her body trembled with need. The man was nothing short of a god in her book. The sheet barely covered his lower half and she could see the outline of the world’s most perfect butt. He was bronze and beautiful.

Head in the game. He’s going to think you’re some kind of perv if you keep staring at him like he’s a meal. She forced her fingers to pull the T-shirt she’d been wearing over her head. Then she lost the jeans, bra and finally the pink lacy thong. She’d never once had a massage completely nude. This would be an entirely new experience for her in more ways than one.

Hurrying, she slid under the cool sheets. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Jackson turned toward her. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

“I know,” she said. “This is a bit unorthodox. I mean are we going to have to use the services of everyone we interview?”

Jackson chuckled. “That would be entertaining but time-consuming. No, it’s this place that caters to a certain level of clientele. I have a hunch we may find something out here. Don’t ask me why, but I always follow my hunches.”

It was a hell of a lot more than what she had to go on. “Well, what’s the worst that can happen? We get a massage. I’ve had worse assignments.” Not really, but she could at least pretend she had.

“You said it.” There was sadness, and perhaps a touch of deep regret in his voice, which made her look at him more closely. He sounded as if he’d been through hell.

Jackson pushed the buzzer and Mar took a big breath. This was going to be one to share with the girls back at the office. They’d crack up when they heard that she was naked in a room with a man getting a massage. She could almost hear Katie’s “Yeah, right. You had to get naked with a hot guy, and get a massage—for the job. Why can’t I get those kinds of cases?” Mariska smiled. Yes, her friend would give her a hard time, but if this worked and she found Gladstone, she’d also be proud of her.

Katie had made it her sole mission to protect Mariska, and to help her through one of the toughest times of her life when her mother had died. But that didn’t keep her best friend from joking with her.

Mar clasped her hands under her chin. She needed to focus. She didn’t want Jackson to think she was some kind of amateur.

You are an amateur. Yes, but he doesn’t have to know that.

She stole one more glance and found him smiling at her.

“Ready?” he said as the door opened.

No. She smiled back at him. What in the hell am I doing?

4

AS JACKSON WATCHED the masseuse run her hands along Mariska’s spine he had trouble concentrating on what they needed to accomplish here. It’s all about the job. He couldn’t think about her dewy soft skin, and the way Mariska moaned slightly when the woman hit a particular spot between her shoulders.

Did she make that sound during sex? It didn’t help that the room was filled with a spicy sandalwood scent from the candles and the oil. He wondered what it would be like if his hands caused that tiny but extremely effective noise.

For the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he thought a couples massage was such a great idea. Thanks to her moans it would be a while before he would be able to flip to his backside.

His purpose upon entering the room had been to chat up the two women working on them, but they refused to talk. It was almost as if they’d been told to keep quiet.

Mariska turned her head toward him and gave a sweet smile. “Honey, this was such a wonderful idea.” Mariska sighed happily. “I’m so glad your friend Mr. Gladstone recommended it.”

The tiny woman who’d been running her hands up and down his body had climbed up onto the table and held on to a large wire mounted to the ceiling as she used her feet to do the work of untying the knots in his back. At the mention of Mr. Gladstone, she’d paused.

“I’ll have to remember to thank him when I see him,” Jackson said. The repetitive footwork began again. “He must be busy with his meeting, since he hasn’t called yet. He was supposed to contact me this morning, but no one has heard from him.”

“Oh.” Mariska had thrown some worry into her voice. “I hope he’s okay.”

Jackson shot a glance at the woman working on Mariska and saw that she had a frown on her face, as if she was about to say something but thought better of it. He wondered if she had been the one to give Gladstone his massage.

“Me, too,” Jackson added. “He was going to suggest a club for us to visit, too. Said it was wild, but I told him we like to step out of our comfort zone when we travel. You know how much I want to play cards while we’re here. I know there has to be some action somewhere, but I have no idea where to look.”

“Hon, you and your cards. Don’t you think that money would be better spent on shoes?” She giggled, and he laughed along with her. She played the part well.

“I’m kidding. Maybe someone at the hotel, or maybe even here, will know a place we can go tonight,” she said. “I want to go dancing. After this massage I’ll feel all warm and sexy. Dancing with you would be so perfect. Then we’ll find you a card game. What do you say, honey, are you up for it?”

Oh, I’m definitely up. Her voice deepened to a sexy soft velvet when she said the words sexy and warm, sending his senses into overdrive. Calm down. She’s only doing her job. Jackson cleared his throat, but before he could answer, the woman working on Mariska chimed in.

“Best dance club is Phatong,” she said in a singsong voice. “Very sexy. You wear short dress. Not very many married couple go, though. Mostly businessmen looking for women and if you ask right people you can find card—”

The woman working on his back hissed as if to shush the other one.

The girl walking on Mariska’s back shrugged. Jackson found the interplay between the two women interesting. He couldn’t tell if the older woman didn’t want the younger one to share information, or if she was concerned for Mariska and him.

“Oh, that sounds like fun. Thank you,” Mariska said. “We love dancing. Then maybe we can, um, find those people she talked about so you can play cards, honey.” Mariska was definitely getting into their charade.

From the toe action down his spine Jackson thought the woman walking on top of him might be angry. If she dug into his shoulder one more time, he might have to take her out. It hadn’t completely healed from the beating he’d received from Vlad’s men a few months ago.

It appeared to him as if Phatong would be the best place to continue their search for Gladstone. He’d seen the club a couple of days ago when he quickly toured the red light district searching for one of his old contacts. Of course, the man was nowhere to be found. It was no coincidence that anyone who could have possibly helped Jackson seemed to have disappeared.

She jumped off the table and patted his shoulder. “I do front now.” That was her way of ordering him to flip over. Jackson considered it for a moment and realized his thinking about Vlad had rid his mind of all the sexy thoughts from before.

All he had to do was try and not look at or listen to the sensual Mariska.

BEFORE THEY HIT THE CLUB, Mariska begged to take a quick shower to get the heavy oils off her skin and to change into something more appropriate for club hopping.

Jackson followed her to the room. As she turned on the water he tried his best not to think about her soaping herself up as the warm water sprayed the oil off her sexy body. The very idea caused his gut to tighten with pleasure.

Sitting down at the desk in front of the large expanse of windows, he didn’t have time to take in the view of the city lights. He made a few quick phone calls to the front desk, and to hotel security pretending to be Mariska’s assistant again. Once he had completed his tasks, he did his best to concentrate on the background check on the club.

Borrowing her laptop, he was able to get the information he needed by doing some quick searches. As he suspected, the club was a front for a busy casino in the red light district, one that wasn’t that well hidden. Jackson hoped they would find some clues about what happened to Gladstone.

Jackson hadn’t lied about hunches. As soon as the women at the massage parlor mentioned the club, he thought perhaps their quarry might be a gambler. There hadn’t been anything in the file about Gladstone having a penchant for cards, but it would explain the long absence from his hotel. More than likely he’d been on the hunt for a card game, too, and that’s why the younger girl had mentioned it. If she’d been working on the other man, there was a good chance she’d mentioned the same place.

The club would be a good start, but they might have to hit a few clubs to find their man. Then again, they might get lucky. Though, until he’d run into Mariska earlier, luck hadn’t exactly been on Jackson’s side the last few months.

On to more important matters. He thanked the stars that Mariska had exactly the software he needed to implement the second part of his plan. Using an untraceable account, he sent an e-mail to Dawson.

Jackson had no idea if the other agent would even read it, but it was worth a chance. A few weeks ago Dawson said he was looking into what happened to Jackson, and that he’d help find out how he’d been burned, but so far they’d both come up with nothing. One minute his cover was blown, the next he’d been burned. His fist tightened on the keyboard and he forced himself to relax.

Thanks for the asset. She is something. News? He typed the words using the code he and Dawson had devised, hitting send as the water shut off.

What he really wanted to ask was, why Mariska? While her laptop and resources would definitely come in handy, there didn’t seem much she could do for him. Well, she was obviously loaded. Maybe Dawson thought he could use the cash. And possibly use spending time with her as a cover. No one would look for a burned CIA agent with a wealthy socialite.

Jackson picked up the phone and called the front desk to get a car and make some arrangements in case they found their quarry.

Mariska hummed a sweet tune in the bathroom and it was more than a little distracting. It took everything he had not to offer to dry her off. It had been a long time since his mind had been so full of a woman, probably not since one of his high school crushes.

He brought up the search engine again, and cleared away any evidence of what he’d been doing before. He didn’t want to risk suspicion.

When she walked out of the bathroom, she might as well have roundhouse kicked him in the gut. Her long, tan legs were at the bottom of a short black skirt topped with a red halter that looked sexy, but not cheap. Her feet were in sexy heels and it took him a minute to catch his breath.

She stared at him, scrunching up her nose. “Is everything all right?” Twirling around, she flashed a hand down her outfit. “Do you think it’s too much? I thought it would be best if I looked like arm candy, but do you think I need more makeup or something?”

She said it as if she had no idea how much the total package would be a constant distraction for him. Hell, she’d be a distraction for any man. Mar didn’t seem to have any idea how gorgeous she was, and he found that extremely appealing.

“No.” He shook his head. “I meant—the outfit is fine. I have some information for you.” He told her about the casino as she searched the dresser drawers for something.

“There’s one little problem. I’m not exactly flush with cash right now and to get in we’re going to need some to blow on the kind of game we want,” Jackson admitted. He did have a stash, but he had no idea how long it would have to last him.

She pulled out a purse from the dresser and put a lipstick and some other things inside. “Oh, that’s no problem. I brought some extra cash.” She pursed her lips as she walked toward him and he forced himself to stand still, instead of leaning forward and kissing the plum-colored softness before him. “Do you think twenty thousand will be enough? I can get more if we need it.”

The thousand-dollar-a-night suite was his first clue that she had money, but who traveled with that much cash?

“That should get us into the good tables,” he said, choking back a laugh.

“Cool.” She looked down at her outfit again, pulling at a thread. “Um, I don’t exactly have anywhere to carry that much, so maybe you better hold on to it.”

He realized how much she trusted him and a small pit of guilt opened up in Jackson’s gut. He didn’t deserve it, and when she found out, if she found out, who he really was she would hate him for eternity. But for now, he’d help her with her job, and do his best to keep her happy. If he helped her solve her case, there was a great chance she’d feel indebted to him. That might come in handy over the next week or so.

She seemed confident in her skin, but unaware of her beauty. Then there was her job. When it came down to tracking Gladstone, she really did seem clueless. It didn’t add up.

As they entered the lobby, he couldn’t resist asking. “Do you always travel with that much cash?”

She rolled her eyes. “You must think I’m insane. No. The bank delivered the money to the hotel this morning. Part of it is expenses for this case. I didn’t know how long it would take, and informants don’t take credit.” She fiddled with the purse.

Pausing for a moment, she seemed to check herself. “And part of it was for shopping. I planned to have clothes designed for myself, and some friends, and most of the tailors only accept cash. I have this, um, sort of compulsion for silk suits, and they make beautiful ones here.”

Jackson still thought that was a lot of money for a wardrobe, but he wasn’t one to judge. For him, money was a necessary evil of his job. Money equaled power, and he’d seen so many misuse both in his line of work. At least she was only buying clothes and not guns, which is what most of the people he’d worked with the last few years did.

After checking the cash out of the safe downstairs they climbed into the hired car Jackson had ordered from her hotel room. Taxis weren’t always safe in Bangkok, and he decided to rent a hired car in case they needed a quick getaway.

The club wasn’t far, but the traffic congestion was intense even close to midnight.

“Is it always like this here?” Mariska asked as she stared out at the crowds on the sidewalk.

“Pretty much 24/7,” Jackson replied. “It really is a city that never sleeps. The massage parlor was at the edge of the red light district, but this place is dead center. There’s—” He stopped suddenly, trying to think of the best way to tell her.

She gave him a curious look as if she wasn’t really ready for more surprises. He was sorry he had to disappoint her. “What?”

“I guess the easiest way to say this is, be ready for anything. You never know what you’re going to see in these clubs. It’s okay to act surprised, that’s what they expect from tourists, which is what we’ll be for our cover. If that’s okay with you.”

She fidgeted in her seat. “Do you think there will be snakes?” Her voice had gone soft again and his body reacted.

“I don’t know what you mean?” Jackson really was clueless.

“In the club. I saw this movie one time where these people danced with the huge snakes. I’m not a big fan of reptiles. They give me the squiggles.”

Jackson couldn’t help but laugh, and accidentally knocked his elbow against the door of the car.

“Um, I can’t say for sure, but I don’t remember seeing anything about snakes when I did the research.”

“Okay. Good. No snakes.” She took a deep breath and her face relaxed.

He couldn’t believe that snakes were the things she was most worried about. The truth was they were probably going to run into more than one snake of the human variety, but that’s why he was there. He’d protect her.

The car stopped in the middle of the street, and Jackson saw the flashing lights to the right. “Ah, here we are.”

The music booming out of the club was so loud they could hear it from in the car with the windows rolled up. Jackson slipped the driver an extra hundred and told him to hang around the corner on a different street. Then he paused and looked back through the window. “The hotel should have a package ready for you. Put it in the trunk and then we’ll meet up with you soon.”

“Okay,” the driver told him.

Phatong was one of those glossy-on-the-surface places with silver walls and glass tables, but underneath that it was slick and seedy. The loud music and the decor had been designed to make people drink. The more they danced, the more they drank. The more the clientele imbibed, the more likely they were to lose money in the casino.

Jackson had a plan. Keeping his hand on Mariska’s back, he led her to the dance floor. “This is the easiest place for us to get a good run of the place. Keep an eye out and let me know if you see any muscle. That’s most likely where we’ll find the casino entrance. They’ll have some guards posted to keep out any cops who might wander in. Best not to rush these things. We’ll let them think we’re here for a good time.”

Smiling up at him, she nodded. That show of pearly white teeth against the plum lips was enough for his cock to stir again. This had to stop.

She is a means to an end.

This was a job like so many he’d done before. He had to stay alert and couldn’t think about things like how her body would feel next to his.

The crowd around them was a mix of tourists and young locals hitting the club scene. The fast electronica beat moved into a slow song as they hit the dance floor.

Damn. Now he was about to find out exactly how she felt tight against him. At least he didn’t have to bop around like an idiot to fast music. That was one thing he’d never picked up in his training. The waltz and a modified box step were about all he could handle.

Of course, there was also the slow high school move where you put your arms around her waist and moved back and forth. Unfortunately for his libido, that was the only kind of dancing that fit this particular song. He pulled her to him in a smooth move, wrapping his arms around her hips, his hands lightly touching her lower back.

Her arms slid around his neck, and he tried not to think about her pert breasts pushing into his chest or the seductive way her hips moved from side to side. No, he wasn’t thinking about those things at all.

“She sure gets around,” Mariska said.

Jackson glanced around. “Who?”

“Natasha Bedingfield,” Mariska whispered, her breath tickling his ear and sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

“Is she here?”

Her soft laugh caused him to gaze down at her beautiful face.

“Do you have any idea who she is?” Mar grinned at him as if he were missing the joke.

Jackson thought for a moment, but the name didn’t mean anything to him. “Uh, no.”

“She’s singing this song, ‘Soulmate,’ and it happens to be one of my favorites. It’s a few years old but I’ve always loved it.”

She was talking about the music. Jackson didn’t spend much time in the States, and while he had an MP3 player, he used it for downloading books, historical fiction and biographies.

“It’s nice.” It was an inane thing to say, but he wasn’t familiar with the artist. He did make a note that it was one of Mariska’s favorites. He wasn’t sure exactly why he found that necessary.

Keep your mind on the job, man.

Taking in the rest of the club, he twirled her around. There were a couple of bouncers near an entrance at the back. His first instinct was to hit the bar and get an invite, but the woman in his arms made him want to hold off a few minutes more.

It’s her favorite song after all. The fact that her fingers played a seductive rhythm on his neck had nothing to do with it.

When it ended, he took her hand and pushed through to the crowded bar. As he waited for the bartender to get their drinks, he listened to other patrons. One guy was talking about winning at the wheel. That meant a roulette table. They were on the right track.

Careful how he worded it, he spoke to the bartender in stilted Thai. He wanted the man to think he was a tourist who recently learned the language. Jackson asked if he knew of a place where a man could find a solid card game. Then he handed him a hundred-dollar tip. The other man pointed toward the back. “Tell them Kwan sent you.”

“Okay.” He pulled Mariska away from the crowd. “We’re going in, but there are some ground rules. Stay close and at the first hint of trouble we are out of there.”

As hard as he tried, it was tough to think of Mariska as a business partner. He had an overwhelming need to protect her. So much so that he considered scrapping their plan and taking her back to the hotel. He could handle this part of the job on his own.

“Jackson, I’m not an idiot.” Mariska’s frustration could be heard in her tone. “Trust me when I tell you that at the first sign of trouble I’ll be booking it like nobody’s business. Please don’t even go there.”

He glanced up to see the bartender watching them. To keep the man from getting suspicious he leaned down and captured Mariska’s lips. There was a tiny “oh,” from her but she didn’t fight him. Her arms snuck up around his neck as he further explored her mouth. She was sweet with a slight tang of the lime from her drink. More intoxicating than any alcohol he could have imagined.

Jackson lost himself in her. His brain shut down and his body responded to her in ways he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

This woman could be the death of me. The thought helped Jackson to finally pull himself away from her, but it wasn’t easy. “Ready?”

5

JACKSON HAD KISSED HER. Gawd, that was amazing even for a fake kiss. Mariska’s stomach was full of butterflies and even her eyes had lost focus for a second.

She glanced at the door where two bodyguards stood, and worried about what Jackson had said to her about surprises that might be behind the curtain. So far there’d been no snakes. Thank God. She’d been so embarrassed when she brought that up in the car, but snakes were definitely a deal-breaker for her.

“What exactly are you expecting to find back there?” Mariska asked the question to give herself time to check her knees and make sure they worked. She knew Jackson had only kissed her because he’d caught someone watching them. It was too sudden for anything else.

While she didn’t want to admit it, the kiss had been one of the best she’d ever experienced. It would have been nice if it’d been real. Her body already craved his touch. Maybe when they finished this case she could convince him to go with her to the beach resort where she planned to vacation for a couple of weeks.

The very idea of asking a man to spend two weeks holed up in a beach villa. Please. What a—God, I’m going to do it. If we make it out alive from this place, I’m going to ask him to go with me. If he says no, I’ll live.

She would never let on, but he’d absolutely scared the crap out of her with his worry about what was behind the curtain. Pretending she was worldly hadn’t been easy in that moment.

More than anything she wanted to take his hand and run out the front entrance and to the safety of the town car. She didn’t need to find Gladstone that bad. Then all she had to do was convince Jackson to run away to the beach with her. That prospect was much more enticing than going through the curtain with the two guards.

She glanced up to see Jackson was answering her question, and she’d missed most of his answer. She forced herself to focus.

“It’s best to be on guard at all times. We’re here to gather information, nothing more. The most important thing is, if you see Gladstone, don’t let on that you know him right away. Give me some kind of signal and then we’ll play it by ear.”

Jackson squeezed her hand and she gave him her most reassuring smile.

Jackson said something in Thai, and the guards pulled back the curtains. The disco part of the club hadn’t prepared Mariska for the freak circus in front of her. The casino, packed with masses of people, was an overwhelming, nasty mess. From the flashing lights to the totally nude cocktail waitresses, it was an assault on the senses.

There were blackjack tables, slot machines, roulette wheels and everything else one might find in a Vegas casino, including card games in side rooms along the casino floor.

Down the center of the casino was a line of large birdcages hanging from the ceiling. Inside were nude dancers. A few of the cages had more than one girl and they were making out. Hell, it was more than making out. It was erotic and kind of sleazy at the same time.

Note to self: Don’t look up. Holy crap. Eyes forward.

The girls were a distraction so that people didn’t pay attention to how much money they were losing. She knew that. Still, though Mariska had partied hard in her early college days, hitting some of the not-so-lovely bars in Austin, New Orleans, Vegas and L.A., she’d never seen anything like this.

Jackson glided in with his arm around her shoulders. The warmth of him helped her get her bearings in the sea of people. He moved as if he knew exactly where he was going. She walked beside him, and admired Jackson’s way of looking like he owned the room. The man definitely didn’t lack self-confidence, which was the exact opposite of how she felt.

Now that they were in, her stomach tightened with unease. She felt completely overwhelmed.

This was a dumb idea. We’re never going to find him in this mess. Seconds after she thought it, she spotted Gladstone. He was across the large expanse where the slot and poker machines were lined up.

She must have tensed, because Jackson leaned down and whispered against her ear. “Where is he?”

He’s good. Jackson was so in tune with everything around him that even her slight movement caused him to take notice. She reached up and touched his cheek to help with the charade and to hide their lips as she whispered back, “Straight ahead and to the left. End chair at the big table.”

Jackson hugged her, and then kissed her again, lingering a little longer than necessary for their theatrics. She didn’t mind a bit.

“Good job. Now follow me.” He winked at her.

Jeez, if he didn’t stop touching her like that she would melt into the floor. Seriously, she’d be the wicked witch of the west in a puddle, or was that the wicked witch of the east. She could never remember.

If Jackson knew what he did to her, he’d run for his life. His touch around her shoulders sent electricity through her body, heating and teasing. Her nipples tightened, which was unfortunate since the thin halter she wore didn’t hide much.

Great. They really are going to think I’m cheap eye candy.

Taking their time crossing the floor, they watched some of the tables for a few minutes. Then they stopped to play roulette, and Mariska won. “Oh, my, Gawd. This is so much fun!

“I’ve never been this lucky,” she said as she cashed in her coins for bills. Since her purse was barely big enough to hold her phone and lipstick she handed the money to Jackson.

“That’s how they pull you in,” he said under his breath as he led her toward Gladstone. They were close enough now that she could see the lines of worry etched in the other man’s face, shadowed by a couple of days’ whisker growth. His pile of chips wasn’t very high.

“My guess is he’s been here for at least two days. He probably started out with a big wad of cash and now he thinks he can win it all back.” Jackson took her hand in his and moved into the crowd that surrounded the table. There were four other men and the dealer playing. It was a form of poker but she didn’t recognize the game.

When Jackson let go of her hand and moved forward she was shocked.

“Desmond, is that you?” Jackson had waited for a lull in the action while the dealer shuffled the cards. He stepped forward and stuck out his hand.

The other man shook it but had a look of uncertainty on his face.

Jackson carried on his ruse. “What the heck are you doing here?” He tilted his head back toward Mariska. “The little woman is here with me. Where’s your wife? She was complaining this morning that I was no fun shopping, maybe the girls could spend the day together tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch. “Make that later today.”

Desmond Gladstone wasn’t sure what to think of Jackson. She could tell from the wary look in his eyes. Bloodshot eyes that revealed he’d been at the table way too long, and it looked as if he’d had one too many drinks.

Alcohol could make a man stupid. Hell, it could make a woman stupid. She’d made plenty of mistakes after a few too many. His hair was mussed, and though he was in his early thirties according to the background report the agency sent, he appeared much older, haggard and unhealthy, as if he hadn’t had a decent meal or a shower in days.

Jackson continued the charade, looking around as if trying to find the other man’s wife. Gladstone took the bait.

It wasn’t surprising since Jackson was so damn convincing. The man should have been a star in Hollywood for the show he put on. He acted as if he’d known Gladstone all his life, and even Mariska would have believed the scheme if she didn’t know the truth.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.