For a brief moment he frowned.
She laughed out loud. If thats happy, youre a terrible actor. Make like were a couple.
Since I didnt get the memo, Im a little slow on the uptake. Let me set the stage. Getting past the shock of his contacts gender, Rip had to admit she was a lot prettier than any cowboy he might have expected. He wrapped his arm around her waist, then slid his hand up into her dark brown hair and pressed the back of her neck, angling her face toward his.
What are you doing? she said, her eyes widening.
I would think it was obvious. Im showing you how happy I am to see you. Then he captured her mouth in a deep, lip-crushing kiss.
Apparently she was so shocked that her mouth opened. Rip slid his tongue in and caressed the length of hers.
At first her hands, trapped between them, pressed against his chest. But after a moment or two, her fingers curled into his shirt and she kissed him back.
When he finally came up for air, it took him a second or two to come back to his senses and remember where he was, yet again.
He stood so quickly, he had to steady her on her feet before he let go of her. Lets get out of here.
What about your winnings? she said.
He scooped up enough tokens for two full cups, carried them over to a gray-haired senior citizen and dumped them into her slot machine tray. Congratulations, youre a winner. He kissed the womans cheek, grabbed his contacts hand and headed for the door.
The woman whose hand he held hurried to keep up with him in her bright red cowboy boots. You were playing the dollar slots.
So? he countered.
That was probably a couple hundred dollars.
Then that woman will go home happy.
He tipped his baseball cap lower over his forehead, slid his arm around her waist and smiled down at her as he stepped out into the sauna-like Mississippi late afternoon sunshine. Wheres your car?
This way. She guided him to the parking lot and stopped beside a large black 4x4 truck with twenty-inch rims and tinted windows.
Seriously? Rip shook his head. This is yours?
One of the perks of working for Hank Derringer. That and an arsenal of every weapon you could possibly need. When she hit the key fob, the engine started and the doors unlocked. She opened the drivers side door and nodded to the passenger seat. Hop in.
How do I know you really work for Hank?
You dont. But has anyone else shown up and told you hes your contact?
No.
You have that. She raised her eyebrows, the saucy expression doing funny things to his insides. So, do you trust me, or not?
His lips curled upward on the ends. Ill go with not.
Oh, come on, sweetheart. She batted her pretty green eyes and gave him a sexy smile. Whats not to trust?
His gaze scraped over her form. I expected a cowboy, not a
Cowgirl? Her smile sank and she slipped into the drivers seat. I grew up on a ranch, Ive worked with cattle and horses and I know the value of a hard days work. I spent eight years with the FBI. I also know right from wrong and tend to be loyal to a fault, until the person or organization I believe in breaks my trust. Her lips firmed into a straight line. Are you coming or not? If youre dead set on a cowboy, Ill contact Hank and tell him to send a male replacement. But then hed have to come up with another plan.
Rip considered her words and then acknowledged he didnt have a lot of choices with only a couple of weeks reprieve before he had to turn up alive or be buried by the government. He rounded the front of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. Ill go along for the ride and maybe you can convince me youre up for the challenge.
Please. I dont normally have to justify my existence to the people I work with. Im a trained operative. I dont need this assignment. However, from what Hank told me, you need all the help you can get.
Im interested in how you and Hank plan to provide that help. Frankly, Id rather my SEAL team had my six.
Yeah, but youre deceased. Using your SEAL team would only alert your assassin that you arent as dead as the Navy claims you are. How long do you think youll last once that bit of news leaks out?
His lips pressed together. Id survive.
By going undercover? Then you still wont have the backing of your team, and were back to the original plan. She grinned. Me.
Rip sighed. Fine. I want to head back to Honduras and trace the weapons back to where theyre coming from. Whats Hanks plan?
For me to work with you. She pulled a large envelope from between her seat and the console and handed it across to him. Everything we need is in that packet. Passports, cash, credit cards and new identities. We also have at our disposal Hanks jet, a Citation X, capable of cruising at Mach 0.9, almost the speed of sound. Say the word and we can be in the sky within twenty minutes. Its waiting at the airport.
Monahan had only good things to say about Hank and all he could do for the operation, otherwise Rip would have been more hesitant getting the billionaire involved. With a DEA agent and one of his SEAL teammates dead, and himself almost killed, he was determined to find the one responsible. But after losing one of his SEAL brothers, he was hesitant about getting anyone else caught in the crosshairs. Hank sure pulled all of this together fast.
The womans lips tilted up briefly as she drove out onto the street. Hank has resources most people dont. Not even the government.
Rip riffled through the contents of the packet, glancing at a passport with his picture on it as well as a name hed never seen. Chuck Gideon?
Better get used to it.
Speaking of namesweve already kissed and you havent told me who you are. Rip glanced her way briefly.
Her eyes narrowed and her lips firmed. No, I havent.
Is it a secret? Do you have a shady past or are you related to someone important.
For this mission, Im related to someone important. She twisted her lips and sent a crooked grin his way. You. For the purpose of this operation, you can call me Phyllis. Phyllis Gideon. Ill be your wife.
Chapter Two
Tracie Kosart had recognized the man in the casino immediately from the photo Hank Derringer had given her and realized that could be a problem. Even with his shaggy long hair, the breadth of his shoulders, the stubborn set of his chin and the steely look in his gray-blue eyes set him apart from the other gamblers there hoping to score a big win.
Though hed been slouching on the stool, he looked as if he could spring into action at a moments notice. Now as he sat opposite her in the interior of her truck, he filled the space, his shoulders seeming to block her entire view.
Phyllis, huh? He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. You dont look like a Phyllis.
It doesnt matter. When he looked at her so intently, it made her body heat and her belly tighten.
Missy?
What?
Jasmine, Lois, Penelope? I could list names all day. He pinned her with his stare, a sassy smirk on his face. You might as well tell me.