Sharkman."
Something was choking him, but he shrugged and collected his briefcase. "You don't have to like me, Angel. Just do your job."
"Right. The god-almighty job."
"It's why we're here."
"Oh, I'm clear on that."
He headed for the door. For escape. Once he got past the door he'd be able to breathe gain.
"Where are you going?"
'To make sure Jack and Mike are ready for tonight."
"What the hell for? You know they're ready, and so am I."
"Are you?" He pivoted as he opened the door. "Carol Borian's ghost doesn't swear."
She flushed, making her face even prettier. "Well, her daughter does. She has a foul mouth that you'd give anything to kiss, and without her your case would be nothing!"
He plunged into the hallway, slammed the door behind him, and leaned against it, sweating and gasping for breath.
Angelina stared at the door, the slam echoing in her head.
Damn him.
Damn yourself, party girl.
She should give up trying to win him over. It was a lost cause. And as long as he stayed the hell away from her she'd be fine.
Just fine.
She stomped into her room, ripped off her staid little dress, and kicked off her no-nonsense shoes. Then she swept into the bathroom and soaked her resentment away in hot water and deliciously scented bubbles.
Two hours later she answered the door wrapped in a plush white robe to find Jack carrying a garment bag.
"Cinderella's ball gown," he announced, holding it up.
"Where's Sharkman?"
He looked at her blankly.
"Agent Carver," she fumed. Why the hell didn't everyone know who she was talking about?
"He's still going over things with Mike," Jack said. But she could tell from the shuttered look in those nice brown eyes that he knew as well as she that Finn was staying away on purpose.
Fine by me, Sharkman.
"Look..." Jack laid the garment bag over the back of the couch, choosing his words carefully. "I know he can be a real shit." No one had to ask who "he" was. "But he can also be a real ace. You just have to learn that the job comes first with him. It's not personal. He's the best at what he does. He'll keep you safe and he'll get you home alive."
Yeah, but who will keep me safe from him?
The doubt she felt must have shown in her face because Jack plowed on. "You're doing a great job. Finn told us about the restaurant. He said Borian looked like he'd lost a gallon of blood the moment he clapped eyes on you."
Surprised, she raised her brows. "He said that? He said I was doing a good job?"
"He may not act it, but he's on your side."
She snorted, not ready to forgive and forget. "He's a big boy. He doesn't need you to stick up for him."
"Yeah, well... he saved my life once. I'm just returning the favor."
That stopped her short. "He saved your life?"
"Took a bullet for me."
"You're kidding." He shook his head. "How? What happened?"
"Oh, an undercover job went wrong. Bad guys were on to us and Finn pushed me out of the way."
My God. A real hero. Figures. How the hell was she supposed to live up to that?
"So cut him some slack," Jack said, voice light, eyes serious.
Reluctant to give in, she shook a finger at him. "Well, if I do, it's only because you asked." She nodded toward the garment bag. "What have you got for me?"
"A little black dress. At least, that's what Smitty called it. Oh, and the skirt and sweater thing is there, too." He shuffled his feet, thumbed over his shoulder. "I... I better get back."
"Or Simon Legree will whip you?" She walked him to the door. "Thanks, Jack. You're a real peach." She kissed him on the cheek and he gave her that sweet puppy-dog grin.
"You're not so bad yourself."
"Evidently that's a matter of opinion." She opened the door. "Tell Sharkman I'll be waiting."
Jack's grin widened and he lowered his voice as if imparting a deep, dark secret. "I think he knows that." He winked and left.
She shook her head in mock annoyance, but Jack's visit had lightened her mood. Grabbing the garment bag by the hanger, she went into her bedroom,
Something was choking him, but he shrugged and collected his briefcase. "You don't have to like me, Angel. Just do your job."
"Right. The god-almighty job."
"It's why we're here."
"Oh, I'm clear on that."
He headed for the door. For escape. Once he got past the door he'd be able to breathe gain.
"Where are you going?"
'To make sure Jack and Mike are ready for tonight."
"What the hell for? You know they're ready, and so am I."
"Are you?" He pivoted as he opened the door. "Carol Borian's ghost doesn't swear."
She flushed, making her face even prettier. "Well, her daughter does. She has a foul mouth that you'd give anything to kiss, and without her your case would be nothing!"
He plunged into the hallway, slammed the door behind him, and leaned against it, sweating and gasping for breath.
Angelina stared at the door, the slam echoing in her head.
Damn him.
Damn yourself, party girl.
She should give up trying to win him over. It was a lost cause. And as long as he stayed the hell away from her she'd be fine.
Just fine.
She stomped into her room, ripped off her staid little dress, and kicked off her no-nonsense shoes. Then she swept into the bathroom and soaked her resentment away in hot water and deliciously scented bubbles.
Two hours later she answered the door wrapped in a plush white robe to find Jack carrying a garment bag.
"Cinderella's ball gown," he announced, holding it up.
"Where's Sharkman?"
He looked at her blankly.
"Agent Carver," she fumed. Why the hell didn't everyone know who she was talking about?
"He's still going over things with Mike," Jack said. But she could tell from the shuttered look in those nice brown eyes that he knew as well as she that Finn was staying away on purpose.
Fine by me, Sharkman.
"Look..." Jack laid the garment bag over the back of the couch, choosing his words carefully. "I know he can be a real shit." No one had to ask who "he" was. "But he can also be a real ace. You just have to learn that the job comes first with him. It's not personal. He's the best at what he does. He'll keep you safe and he'll get you home alive."
Yeah, but who will keep me safe from him?
The doubt she felt must have shown in her face because Jack plowed on. "You're doing a great job. Finn told us about the restaurant. He said Borian looked like he'd lost a gallon of blood the moment he clapped eyes on you."
Surprised, she raised her brows. "He said that? He said I was doing a good job?"
"He may not act it, but he's on your side."
She snorted, not ready to forgive and forget. "He's a big boy. He doesn't need you to stick up for him."
"Yeah, well... he saved my life once. I'm just returning the favor."
That stopped her short. "He saved your life?"
"Took a bullet for me."
"You're kidding." He shook his head. "How? What happened?"
"Oh, an undercover job went wrong. Bad guys were on to us and Finn pushed me out of the way."
My God. A real hero. Figures. How the hell was she supposed to live up to that?
"So cut him some slack," Jack said, voice light, eyes serious.
Reluctant to give in, she shook a finger at him. "Well, if I do, it's only because you asked." She nodded toward the garment bag. "What have you got for me?"
"A little black dress. At least, that's what Smitty called it. Oh, and the skirt and sweater thing is there, too." He shuffled his feet, thumbed over his shoulder. "I... I better get back."
"Or Simon Legree will whip you?" She walked him to the door. "Thanks, Jack. You're a real peach." She kissed him on the cheek and he gave her that sweet puppy-dog grin.
"You're not so bad yourself."
"Evidently that's a matter of opinion." She opened the door. "Tell Sharkman I'll be waiting."
Jack's grin widened and he lowered his voice as if imparting a deep, dark secret. "I think he knows that." He winked and left.
She shook her head in mock annoyance, but Jack's visit had lightened her mood. Grabbing the garment bag by the hanger, she went into her bedroom,
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