He was drunk with passion by the time she’d pushed his jacket off his shoulders and worked his shirt free of his jeans. She bunched up the material in her hands, tugged it behind the holster that hung from his shoulder, exposing his chest and torso to her curious quest. Her hands scorched him with their searching. A delicate brush of a fingertip here. An outright grab there.
He ground his hips into hers, amazed at how quickly, how thoroughly, this prude-turned-seductress had aroused him. She didn’t need any lessons on how to seduce a man. She was a natural. A prodigy.
“Miss Lockhart?” Three sharp raps on the dressing-room door brought Logan up short. “The store is closing in fifteen minutes. If you like, I could start ringing up your selections.”
The salesclerk’s friendly voice intruded from the outside world. Logan tore his mouth from Grace’s. He breathed silently through pursed lips so as not to reveal his presence, and pressed the palm of his hand against Grace’s mouth, keeping her ragged breathing from giving them away.
He tried to collect his thoughts, but the image looking back at him from three different angles made him wonder just how far he would have gone before he realized he had completely botched this mission. His knee was wedged between Grace’s thighs. He had the ivory slip hiked up to the waistband of her panties. The straps dangled loosely in the crook of her elbows, leaving her breasts bare and beautiful from every conceivable view. Her hands were lost inside his shirt, her mouth red and swollen with his kisses—and the whole scene was reflected in the dressing-room mirrors.
“Is everything all right?” Now the clerk sounded vaguely concerned.
Logan slowly pulled his hand away and mouthed the words, “Say something to get rid of her.”
“What should I say?” she mouthed back.
He tilted his head and glared at her.
Grace shrank away from the hard look. She pulled the slip straps back over her shoulders and covered herself, but finally responded to the message. “I’m fine,” she said in a loud, surprisingly clear voice. “I’ll be out in just a minute. Thank you.”
After the clerk left, Logan shook his head. “That’s the fastest you can think on your feet?”
Her unshielded eyes swelled with something more than embarrassment at being caught in a compromising position. “Is that what this was? A test?”
“No.” He was too honest to tell her otherwise. He swiped his fingers through his hair, literally and figuratively trying to straighten the mess he’d made of their professional relationship. “But there’s a hell of a lot more to working undercover than just looking the part.”
“I know that. I might be naive, but I’m not an idiot.”
He tucked in his clothes and backed himself up to the door. No. He was the only idiot here. She’d crossed her arms in front of her, but stood straight in that proud yet vulnerable stance he’d gotten to know so well today.
“Tomorrow I’ll fill you in on covert weaponry. And we’ll work on some self-defense tactics.”
His aching groin and shredded sense of self-preservation mocked the cool authority in his voice. He’d known this assignment would be trouble from the start, and he’d already blown it big time by losing his objectivity to a case of carnal lust.
“Fine. Would you step out so I can get dressed, please?”
He closed the door and headed back to his lonesome spot on the couch.
“Definitely need to work on self-defense.”
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