No doubt she was messing with Colton’s mind. His supervisor’s secretary loved to play practical jokes. He was the target this time. “Since I’ve been forced to wear tights, I need some kind of compensation.” Colton covered the few feet to Lisette and bowed with a flourish. “I like your hair down. You should wear it like that more often.”
Lisette pursed her lips. “We have worked together three days, and you profess to know how I usually wear my hair?”
He winked at her. “Yep. The way I’ve seen you the past few days is the way you go to work all the time.”
“Unless I’m undercover.”
“How often has that happened?”
“This is the first time.”
“In other words, you never wear your hair down.”
“Yes, I do. On my days off.”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What do you like to do on your days off?”
“Wear my hair down. Be myself.”
He wondered what that was. “Without your glasses?”
“Sometimes. What does this have to do with tonight’s assignment?”
Two pink patches on her cheeks held his attention until he realized he was staring. He cleared his throat and said, “I wanted to make sure you could see clearly in case something went wrong?”
One of her eyebrows rose. “Are you sure that’s the reason?”
How in the world had he let this conversation become personal? He was the team leader. He had to consider everything, didn’t he? He shifted his gaze toward Parker. “Saunders is ten minutes out. Marshals Simms and Wallace are bringing him to the party.”
“Oh, joy. His appearance is going to ruin a perfectly nice evening.” She sauntered past him and greeted Parker.
For a brief moment Colton pictured himself with Lisette, attending this charity ball as a couple on a date. Not having to work. Not having a witness to protect. Having dinner beforehand. Sharing a dance—
“Marshal Phillips,” Lisette broke into his daydream, “Parker is going to recheck the west corridor and exit. I’m taking the east.”
He shook away the mental image of her clasped in his arms. “I’ll see about the north. Simms and Wallace are bringing him in through the south entrance. Meet me back here in five minutes so we can cover the south as Saunders arrives.”
Colton hurried toward the north hallway, a vision of Lisette teasing the edges of his mind, trying to work its way back into his thoughts and rob him of his concentration on the job. All because she wore her hair down! His fingers itched to run through her thick blond curls. He never got involved with a coworker. It was not a good idea, especially with the job he had. So why now was he attracted to her?
He waved at an extra marshal brought in to be posted at the north door. Brad Worth nodded at him, then returned his focus to the entrance. After Colton checked a few rooms off the hallway to make sure they were still locked, he started back the way he came.
When he’d been in foster care, he’d learned not to become too attached to anything or anyone. His job had only reinforced that—traveling a lot and moving from one U.S. Marshals’ office to another. Yes, those moves had been his choice because he was used to being in places temporarily. What would happen if he stayed put for more than two years in a town?
As Colton neared the south entrance, he tamped down all feelings. This was business tonight. He’d done this enough times to run on autopilot. Agent Lisette Sutton was a professional, and that was all it was. He admired that in any law enforcement officer.
* * *
Through her earpiece Lisette could hear the conversation between Saunders, dressed in a pirate’s costume, and a woman in a Little Bo Peep outfit standing near the long dessert table. Lisette had verified everyone was in position for the exchange that should happen soon between Saunders and his contact, and now she moved across the dance floor to Colton. She grimaced. The annoying man who had driven everyone crazy the past few days was poised close by.
“Would you like to dance?” Saunders asked the lady dressed as Little Bo Peep minus the staff.
“I’d love to,” came the faint answer to his question.
Lisette paused next to Colton, facing the dance area as the slow song started. “I wonder if our guy can waltz.”
“We’re about to find out.”
She followed Saunders and Little Bo Peep as he swept his partner out onto the floor with the other pairs. “Nope. He doesn’t have a clue how to waltz. Probably doesn’t even realize it is one.”
“In his line of work, I doubt he has a need to.”
“I guess in ours we don’t, either.”
“No, but for some it’s a pastime.”
She slid a look toward him for a few seconds before returning it to Saunders. “Ballroom dancing?”
A smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, one of the marshals I worked with went out dancing every weekend he could with his girlfriend. Later they got married and they still do it. He told me it’s his exercise.”
“I never thought about that.”
“Do you dance?”
“Not much.” She didn’t date a lot, not after her boyfriend in the FBI dropped her because of the scandal involving her mother. Building her career was her life, and finally after years she felt it was beginning to pay off. With the assignment to the Denver office, she felt the FBI was satisfied she wouldn’t turn out like her mother had, which meant Lisette would work extra hard to keep that impression true. This case with the U.S. Marshals Service was a big break for her.
“Then how did you know it was a waltz?”
“I love music—all kinds. I also love to watch people dance.”
“But you don’t?”
She could feel his eyes on her. “Not much chance. It takes two.”
“I see Saunders is moving out of our range. Should we?” Colton held out his hand to her.
“You can waltz?”
“I’m a quick study, and I saw my colleague and his wife do it enough. At least I’ll be better than Saunders.”
Lisette placed her hand in his, the contact sending a tingling sensation zipping up her arm. He grasped her at the waist, and she nearly stepped on his foot when she tripped over her own. Warmth suffused her face. “Sorry. I didn’t have a friend to show me.”
Lisette listened to the soft rhythm of the song and fell into sync with Colton. He moved them toward Saunders. All Lisette heard through her earpiece were the music and the background din of the crowd in the ballroom. Saunders was quiet.
Halfway across the dance area from Saunders, Colton swept her around and she faced Saunders.
Saunders swung his partner around and crashed into a waiter.
“Watch where you’re going, dude.” The waiter’s loud words blared through her earpiece.
“Sorry. Got carried away.”
The man who had collided with Saunders strode away from him and his partner. Saunders moved toward the far end of the dance floor in a couple of twirls as though he had all of a sudden learned to waltz.
“I think he just made contact with that waiter who collided with him,” she said close to Colton’s ear as the song came to an end.
He swung her around to look at