She rolled her eyes. “Nash, we are fake married. We have been over this.”
He shook his head. “Delaney?—”
“Sir, is there a problem with the elevator?” A disembodied voice drifted through the speaker, cutting across the jazz music that had been playing.
Shit. “No problem.”
“Then the elevator should restart,” the voice told him. “Prepare for it to restart within the next ten seconds.”
Delaney watched Nash with wide eyes.
His hand slid under her chin. “We are married,” he said again.
“I know the cover story. I won’t forget it.”
The elevator began to descend again. Her lips were right there, and his time with her was running out. Nash knew it. Dammit, he didn’t want their time to end.
He wanted for Delaney to choose him. To stay with him. To love him. “I’m sorry,” he said. Words that he should have said a very, very long time ago.
Her long lashes fluttered. “For what?”
“For hurting you. Hurting you is the biggest regret that I have in my life. If I could take away every bit of pain that you’ve ever felt, I’d do it.” He needed her to understand this. “I am sorry.”
The elevator dinged. The doors began to open. He edged back.
She grabbed his shirt and hauled him toward her. Her lips pressed to his. A hot, passionate kiss. Her tongue dipped inside his mouth. His hands closed around her hips. He dragged her closer.
“Ahem.”
Dammit. Dammit to hell and back.
Nash raised his head and glared over his shoulder.
A frowning man with a goatee stared back at him. “People need this elevator,” the man huffed. His white hair was swept back from his high forehead, and his right hand gripped a cane.
“Oh, Lawrence, stop!” The woman beside him sent Nash a merry smile. “Have you forgotten what it’s like to be in love?” She wrapped her hand around Lawrence’s arm. “Once upon a time, you couldn’t keep your hands off me!”
Lawrence huffed again.
Nash bobbed his head toward the couple. “We’re newlyweds. And you’re right, I just can’t keep my hands off my wife.” His hands curled around her waist right then as he escorted Delaney from the elevator.
He was surprised to see that red flashed on Delaney’s cheeks.
They hurried from the elevator and walked into the lobby. Their hotel fed directly into the attached casino, so it was only a short walk until the sound of slot machines filled the air. Voices rose and fell. Some with excitement. Some with dismay. Waitresses bustled around, handing out drinks like candy. In a place like this, the customers always gambled a bit more when the drinks flowed freely. Tipsy customers made for better business.
“All right, sweetheart.” He kept her tucked against his side, and Nash bent so that his words whispered into her ear. “It’s showtime. So stay focused. We’re going to take a stroll through the casino, see and be seen, and then we’ll venture to our next stop.”
She stiffened. “Agents are watching us?”
“Lawrence and his wife Frannie are agents.” Agents in careful disguise.
Her head whipped toward him. She nearly clocked him in the chin. “What? That couple waiting for the elevator?”
“Welcome to the spy world. What you see is not always what you get.” Not even close. “Time to let the games begin.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Okay.” A determined nod from Delaney. “Noted.”
