Resisting the urge to adjust the comm device, I lower my chin to clear my throat.
Before I can reply, a giggle catches my attention. Skis forward, I turn at the waist, and swallow back acrid bile.
Behind me, the same man who had me tangled in the sheets hours ago, flirts shamelessly with an après-ski-chic model. Her diamond studs sparkle in the sun, as does her bleached-white smile.
Dammit. We’re undercover. This is all fake. I need to exorcise this green monster, or it will ruin everything.
When the gorgeous man-stealer pats a trendy mitten against his cheek, I picture pushing her face, designer goggles and all, into the snow.
Jealousy over, I force my mind to the mission, flipping through our playbook. Hunt and I are supposed to be having a lover’s quarrel, but it appears he’s enjoying the powder princess’s company a little too much.
Perhaps this isn’t an act for him—maybe it’s second nature. I’m just another conquest in a string of seductions—no different from the rest. Damn. I’m being naïve. We never agreed toanything more than sex. So, why do I have this overwhelming urge to tear Miss America’s hair out?
Needing to store these unhelpful thoughts, I try to shove them into my mental lockbox, but with the hinges broken, the whole thing collapses.
Crap.
After a deep, cold, cleansing breath, I shuffle to the chairlift queue. At the last moment, Ahmad makes his move. Excusing himself, he slides forward and barges into the line in front of me. As we settle in, my companion claims the middle seat. I expect him to strike up a conversation, but instead, the man on his left engages him in a barrage of foreign dialogue, shutting me out.
After a few minutes, Ahmad turns to me. “Please forgive my rudeness. My friend has never visited your Green Mountains and his English is limited.”
Hoping my face gives nothing away, I keep my tone light. “Thanks for inviting me to your class. I appreciate it. Are you here for long?”
“Only a day or two, but if you give me your number, next time I am here, I will call you.”
“Oh.” My mouth a tight pout. I stare at a kid on a snowboard, jumping moguls. “Don’t bother. I’ll probably be busy.”
His gaze flicks toward the exit ramp, as if gauging the distance—an escape route? A signal? “What about your boyfriend? If you don’t find my question too personal.”
“It’s complicated.” Grabbing my poles, I shrug him off with a wave of my hand.
His laugh is so normal, I almost forget he’s my suspect. “Ah, you Americans and your cryptic phrases. That means you do not want to talk about him, yes?”
“It means what it means.” I add as much irritation as I dare.
“Listen, if my work goes well, I could be staying for quite some time.” As a seductive smile breaks out on his face, I lean in.
“Oh. Well, what is it you do?” Interest sparking in my eyes, I flick my tongue over my lower lip.
“I am a chemical engineer.” When he puffs out his chest and lifts his chin, the man to his left furrows his brow.
After their short argument, Lucky fills me in. “His friend told Ahmad to shut his trap. Good on ya. You’ve given us something to go on.”
Raising the safety bars, my mark takes the bait. “I’m giving a party at my chalet tonight. Do you think you could slip away from your partner and come?”
My grin widens, but not for the reasons he thinks. “He has the car keys, but no worries. After a few drinks, he won’t notice I’m gone.”
Chapter 22
Hunt
As Kelly exits the chairlift in front of me, I raise my safety bar. After sliding down the ramp, I spot her flirting with Ahmad. Scowling at them, I open my ski tips, push in my poles, and skate toward the lesson. The last student to arrive, I snowplow to a stop near two thin, middle-aged men arguing in Farsi. They talk too fast for my limited skills.
Lowering my chin to the mic taped to my chest, I murmur, “Lucky, you hearing this, mate?”
“Affirmative.” Back in his home office, I picture him recording the conversation, perhaps translating in real time.
The wind whistles past my ears, biting through my jacket as I shift on my skis, trying to catch more of the men’s rapid exchange. Every word feels like a puzzle piece just out of reach.
