Bulletproof Seal

Jeff peeled open one puffy eye, caked with blood. “Got the jump on me. Beat me up.”

“Who? Street robbery? Do you want me to call the cops?”

“No.” Jeff dug his fingers into the flesh of Quinn’s arms. “On the job.”

Quinn’s eyes met Rikki’s for a split second, and her heart flip-flopped. The CIA on the job in New Orleans? She couldn’t stay here. Couldn’t stay with Quinn any longer.

Quinn tugged Jeff’s shirt back down over his stomach. “I don’t see any weapon wounds.”

“No weapons.” Jeff closed his eyes. “Unless you count the guy’s fists.”

“You need some ice.” Rikki dabbed the last of the blood from Jeff’s face. She gathered the bloodstained towels and wrapped them in a plastic bag. She loaded another plastic bag with ice.

When she returned to the living room, Quinn had helped Jeff onto the sofa. Without the blood smearing his face, Jeff no longer looked half-dead.

Rikki perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing Jeff. She thrust the bag of ice at him. “Here. Can you manage?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jeff grabbed the impromptu ice pack and pressed it against the lump forming around his eye.

Quinn started for the hallway. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen and water.”

As Quinn walked away, Rikki scooted off the table. “I’ll get the water.”

She and Quinn returned to Jeff’s side at about the same time, and Rikki noticed Quinn had pulled on his shorts. That made two times she’d seen the man almost naked in one night, and she didn’t have to use her imagination for the rest. They’d spent two whole days together in his hotel room sans clothing. Answering the door for room service had been the only times either of them had slipped into something to cover their nakedness.

Rikki tucked her hair behind one ear and held out the bottle to Jeff. “Here you go. Feeling better?”

She just hoped to God her disguise would see her through and Jeff wouldn’t recognize her, but then nobody in the CIA would be expecting to run into Rikki Taylor—the dead double agent.

“I feel a lot better.” Jeff tapped his jaw and winced. “I’m really sorry about intruding here.”

Heat prickled Rikki’s cheeks. If only. “Oh, no, we...”

Quinn shrugged and dragged Rikki against his side with one arm, his hand resting perilously close to the under-curve of her breast, his warm skin soaking through the thin material of her blouse.

In her haste, Rikki had yanked on her top but hadn’t bothered with a bra and Quinn seemed to be taking full advantage of that fact.

“Yeah, man, bad timing.”

Rikki bit her bottom lip. Definitely taking advantage.

“I’ll be out of your way tomorrow morning. If I can just stay the night, I think can get back on track.”

“Are you sure you don’t need medical care?”

“I could use some, but there’s nothing urgent. Nothing that can’t wait for tomorrow. I’m really sorry, Quinn.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I was here. Can you tell me what you were doing in New Orleans?”