Tall, Dark and Daring: The Admiral's Bride. Suzanne Brockmann
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know? He’d been purposely playing it super cool. Mr. Extra Laid Back. It had required superhuman effort, but he hadn’t looked down her shirt. His gaze slid there now, and he quickly shut his eyes. “I’m only human.” Damn, and he’d been trying so hard not to be.
“Try human male,” she said, laughter in her voice. “I swear, men fall into one of two categories. You have the men who are totally controlled by sex, and you have the men—like you—who spend all their time trying to protect women from the men who are totally controlled by sex. Either way, it’s a complete manipulation.”
She stood up, peeling off her sweatshirt. “I walk into Mel’s bar dressed in my little tank top. You’re sitting at the bar, and maybe you’re not controlled by sex per se. Maybe you don’t catch sight of me in the mirror and try to imagine me naked.”
Jake did his best not to react. How could she know? There was no way she could have read his mind.
She sat next to him, sliding onto the bench beside him. “Maybe I sit down next to you and you glance over, and you think, gee, what’s that nice woman doing in here alone? Maybe you don’t notice what I’m wearing, maybe it has no effect on you, and you think, gee, she has pretty eyes.” Her smile clearly said, yeah, right. “And you look up, and you notice about five big drunk guys getting ready to approach me, and you think, she’s not going to like it when those clowns put their hands all over her. And you stand up, you move closer. You’re ready to save the day.”
She smiled. “Like it or not, notice ‘em or not, babe, you’ve just been manipulated by my breasts.”
Jake had to laugh. He put his head in his hands.
“God, the awful thing is that you’re absolutely right. I just never thought of it that way.” He looked at her from between his fingers. “Look, we need to focus on how you’re going to get that waitressing job at Mel’s, and what’s going to happen after you’re established there.”
She stood up, slipping her sweatshirt over her shoulders. “Cindy invited me to a party at her friend Monica’s house on Saturday afternoon. Hal Francke is going to be there. I thought it would be smart to manipulate him into approaching and asking me to work for him. That way if anyone in the CRO gets suspicious and starts checking into me, they’ll find out I’m just another girl Hal found at some party. It’s a little less suspect than if I go into Mel’s and fill out a job application.”
“It’s also a little less certain,” Jake pointed out. “I mean, you don’t know for sure he’s going to offer you the job.”
Zoe gave him a look. “It’s a hot tub party, Jake. He’ll offer me the job.”
Hot tub. Jake cleared his throat. Hot tub.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my bathing suit on,” she assured him with a smile.
Somehow that didn’t make him feel any better.
“So after I get this job waitressing at Mel’s, what then?” she asked. “I mean, obviously, I’ll be in place to act as a go-between for any communication between you and the rest of the team.”
He nodded. “It might be a while before I can come into town. I know the CRO rules are pretty complicated—I might have to pass some sort of loyalty test before I have free run of the place. But once I do come into the bar, I’ll, um …” He managed a weak smile. “Well, I’ll hit on you. I’m sorry—but I think that’s the cleanest way to explain why we’re going to spend so much time whispering into each other’s ears. If you could set it up—tell people you’re a little older than you really are, they might believe there could be something between us.”
Zoe’s heartbeat tripled in time. Jake Robinson was going to hit on her. They were going to spend time cozied up together. True, it was only to pass information, but she could go far on a fantasy like that. She kept her voice low and controlled. “I think we can make them believe we’re attracted to each other. Our difference in ages is not that big a deal.”
“I’m old enough to be your father.”
“So what? You can pretend you’re going through some kind of midlife crisis, and I’ll let everyone know I prefer more mature men. Experienced men.” Gorgeous, incredibly buff, blue-eyed, heroic men …
“I just don’t want it to come off as such an obvious setup. You know, the first time I come into the bar … A beautiful young woman like you …”
“Jake, the first time you go into that bar, the women are going to be lining up to meet you. I’ll have to fight to get to the front of that line.” She laughed in disbelief at the look on his face. “You’d think after fifty-three years of looking into the bathroom mirror every morning, you might’ve noticed you’re the most handsome man on the planet.”
His laughter was tinged with embarrassment. God, he really didn’t know what he looked like, did he?
“Well, thanks for your vote of confidence, but—”
Zoe wanted to reach for his hand to squeeze it, to reassure him that this would work, but she didn’t dare touch him.
“I’ll set everything up,” she said. “I’ll set up the fact that I’m looking to have a fling, too.”
“Not just a fling,” he corrected her almost apologetically. “I’m going to need a way to get you into the CRO compound. I’ll need your expertise in there to help me find the missing canisters of T-X. And the only way for a woman to get inside is …”
“Through marriage.”
Her laughter sounded almost giddy to her ears. This assignment was a dream assignment to start with, Hal Francke’s anticipated groping aside. She was working with Jake Robinson, the man who had always been her own personal poster model for the word hero. Whenever she’d imagined her perfect man, he’d always had Jake’s steely nerve, his long list of achievements, and, yes, his deep blue eyes.
And now this dream assignment was going to have her pretend she was marrying her hero. He was going to have to kiss her, hold her in his arms. To marry her. Could it possibly get any better?
Yes, he could kiss her, and mean it. And maybe, just maybe she could make that happen.
“It won’t be real,” he told her hastily, misreading her laughter. “The way I understand it, Christopher Vincent performs any wedding ceremonies among his followers. There’s no paperwork or licenses filled out. They don’t believe in state intervention when it comes to marriage.”
He looked at his hands, at the wedding ring he wore.
“It won’t be real,” he said again, as if he were trying to convince himself of that fact.
Zoe sat across from him, her elation instantly subdued. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him quietly. “You’ll have to take off your wedding ring.”
Jake looked at his left hand again. “I know.” He fingered it with his thumb. “That’s okay. It doesn’t really mean anything anyway. We were only married a few days before she died.”
Wait a minute … “Crash told me you and Daisy were together for just short of forever.”
“Daisy didn’t believe in marriage,” he told her simply. “She only married me at the end, because it was the only thing she had left to give me.” He took off the ring, letting it spin on the table in front of him.
“You must really miss her.”
“Yeah. She was pretty incredible.” He caught the ring deftly, midspin, and slipped it into his pants pocket. “I should probably get used to not wearing this.”
He looked so sad, Zoe ached for him. “You know, Jake—we could think of another way to do this.”
He met her eyes. “I suppose I could call Pat Sullivan and see if Gregor Winston’s available to