“Tabitha Love. She’s a computer whiz who works for The Max.” Tabby wasn’t just smart, she was a genius, and distinctly her own person, with short black hair, shaved on the sides and moussed on top. She had enough silver in her nose, ears, and tongue to drive up the price on the stock market.
“She can get a name off the plates?”
“Maybe.” He could read the fatigue in Jessie’s face. Just thinking about the men who had come after her and what might have happened if he hadn’t been with her made his stomach burn.
Nothing he could do about it now. Shoving his concern for her aside, he went back to work on the keyboard, searching for information on paramilitary groups in the area, men who might be willing to hire themselves out for whatever dirty work paid the most. There were five militia units listed, each with dozens of members.
But something about the two men didn’t feel right. He wished he’d gotten a better glimpse of that tattoo. Dammit, they needed more intel. The trick was to stay alive until they got it.
He worked for a while, then looked up to see Jessie emerge from the bedroom in her short white terry cloth robe. Her legs were smooth and tanned, her softly curling, reddish blond hair clipped at the nape of her neck, her small feet bare. Bran felt a rush of heat that went straight to his groin.
“I’m totally dragging. Maybe a swim will perk me up.”
He shifted to get comfortable inside his jeans, and clamped down on his lustful thoughts. “A swim, huh? In case you’ve forgotten, tomorrow’s the first of November.”
She grinned. “This place might not be as luxurious as the last one, but it’s got something the other place didn’t have.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“An indoor heated swimming pool. I need some exercise. I won’t be gone long.”
Bran shoved up from his chair. “You won’t be gone at all unless I go with you.”
She just shrugged. “Fine. Grab your suit and let’s go.”
“I don’t need a suit. I’m on the job.” He plucked his pistol off the table and clipped the holster back onto his belt, crossed the room and pulled open the door. The corridor was clear. “After you.”
Jessie sighed. “This bodyguard thing gets old pretty fast.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. Best way to make it end is to find those missing munitions and clear your father’s name.”
“I’ll go for that.”
A few minutes later Bran stood at the end of the long, rectangular pool. Being off-season, the pool was mostly deserted, just an older couple sitting on the steps at the shallow end, talking quietly between themselves. Determined to keep his thoughts on the straight and narrow and avoid another cold shower, Bran forced himself to look away as Jessie shed her robe.
He turned to catch a glimpse of her diving gracefully into the pool, skimming along like a fish underwater, her head popping to the surface halfway down the pool. He watched as she began swimming laps with smooth, efficient strokes and tried not to imagine what kind of swimsuit she was wearing, couldn’t really tell from the brief glimpses of her body as she carved her way through the water.
At the opposite end of the pool, she made a racer’s turn, flipping over and shoving off the wall, then headed back his way. At his end of the pool, she made another turn, her pretty little behind surfacing right in front of him, making him groan. The orange-striped bikini he now knew she wore suddenly seemed way too small, and perspiration popped out on his forehead.
She stroked her way to the end of the pool and back again, made another turn, and kept swimming. He was hard inside his jeans, unable to look away as she continued to swim, didn’t stop until she had completed twenty laps. By then he had imagined ten different ways to have her in the warm, enticing water.
Dammit to hell and back.
To make matters worse, at the final lap, she surged out of the pool right in front of him and came to her feet dripping wet just a few feet away.
He swallowed. Her nipples were hard little pebbles, her legs shapely and trim, her waist so tiny he could span it with his hands. His mouth went dry. He handed her the towel she had brought and prayed she’d be quick about putting on her robe.
Instead, she unclipped her hair and shook it out, spraying him with drops of water and grinning. It was all he could do not to drag her down on the pool deck and bury himself as deep as he possibly could.
“If you’re finished,” he groused, “I could use something to eat. Let’s go back to the room and call for pizza, and you can get dressed.”
The words brought up the image of her sweet little ass flipping over in the water, and inwardly he groaned. He couldn’t remember such a strong craving for a woman, but maybe it was just that he knew he couldn’t have her.
Finally she put on her robe, and he released a sigh of relief.
“Let’s go,” he said sharply.
She flicked him a sideways glance. “You’re awfully grumpy. You should have joined me. The water was really relaxing.”
