Hot Shot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#5) by Lynn Raye Harris Page A

the guys would be setting up equipment and preparing for any contingencies.
    She and Jack strode into the grand foyer with the painted dome ceiling and the gold ring sculpture at the center. The hotel was over-the-top ornate, gleaming and perfect in a way that the real Venice was not. She preferred the real Venice.
    The staff bent over backward to accommodate her, checking her in and sending her luggage up to her room. A personal concierge was assigned to her, though she protested she might not stay long, and a butler would be at her disposal should she need anything.
    Finally, Jack ushered her into the elevator and punched the buttons for their floor. It was late, but people were still awake. She’d managed not to get recognized so far, except by the staff, and she breathed out a sigh of relief as the doors closed and she was alone in the elevator with Jack.
    He didn’t speak and she didn’t either. She was still annoyed with him for suggesting Barry could be involved. When they reached their floor, he took her to the suite and made her stand outside the door while he checked the rooms for signs of intruders. When he was satisfied, he let her inside. Then he took out his phone and made a call.
    “We’re in … Yeah, copy.”
    He ended the call and a few moments later someone knocked on the door. He went and looked out the peephole before answering. One of his teammates—a guy they called Iceman—came inside with something that looked like a handheld radio. He swept the room and then moved into the next one. When he returned, he shook his head.  
    “It’s clean.”
    “What’s clean?” she asked.
    “Bugs,” Jack said.
    “You’re worried about bugs? Really? At a time like this?”
    “Not insects, babe. Listening devices.”
    Gina colored. Right . She’d forgotten who she was dealing with for a second. Or the exhaustion and stress were catching up with her. “I see.”
    “Thanks, Ice,” Jack said.  
    “Sure thing.”
    “Hey, why are you called Iceman?” Gina asked. “Isn’t that kind of a cliché?”
    Iceman looked at her and grinned. “Yeah, it is. Everyone’s seen Top Gun . But maybe I’m just that cool under pressure.”
    Jack snorted. “Or maybe he got drunk one time when he first joined the team and kept asking if anyone had some ice, man. It kinda stuck.”
    Iceman laughed. “Yeah, that’d be the real reason. But you can call me Garrett, ma’am, if you prefer.”
    “Garrett, then. I’ll be different. And thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it.”
    He gave her a wink and a salute and left. Gina crossed her arms over her middle and turned to look out at the bright lights of the Strip. There was so much happiness here. So much life and sin. And she was outside it, existing from minute to minute as she waited for news of her baby. She hated this place suddenly. Hated all those happy people.
    She whirled away from the window and stalked into the bedroom. Her luggage was laid out on racks, unzipped and waiting for her to select something. But what? Did she go to sleep for a few hours? Stay awake and will the phone to ring?
    She heard Jack talking and she knew he was probably telling his team to investigate Barry’s connection to Vegas. She understood why he was suspicious, she really did, but it hurt anyway. Barry was one of her best friends in the world, and she refused to believe he could be so diabolical.  
    A few minutes later Jack came into the bedroom. She thought she should tell him to knock first or something, but she didn’t have the energy. The barriers that would normally be there between her and a man just weren’t there with Jack.
    “You didn’t eat enough on the plane. I ordered room service.”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “Gina.” He walked into the room and stopped in front of her. His blue eyes roamed her face while her heart kicked up. When he met her eyes again, her breath hitched. “You have to rest and you have to eat. We don’t know what’s going to