didn’t think any of them were gross.
“We’re here.”
Jack’s voice pulled her from her thoughts and it took Kensington a minute to reorient herself. “Already?”
“Already? We’ve been sitting in traffic for the past half hour.” He pointed toward the window. “I thought you looked a million miles away, and you clearly were if you missed the drive.”
“I was actually right here in Rome. My mom, sister and I took a trip here when I was a kid and I was thinking about a conversation we’d had.”
“It must have been a good one if you’re smiling like that.”
“Like what?”
“Memories have misted your eyes to a soft, bluish-gray.”
The compliment pulled her up short and she wasn’t sure what to say beyond a soft, “Oh.”
“It’s lovely.” His dark eyes were inscrutable but it was the husky timbre of his voice that tugged at her.
Not all boys were gross. She’d learned that early and had continued to appreciate the lesson. And with one look at Jack Andrews, she could only concur with her mother’s words of wisdom—some of them grew up into dynamic, interesting men.
Their driver pulled up to their hotel on the Via Veneto, the lush accommodations rising several stories above them as they came to a stop. She grabbed her bag but stopped for a moment, unable to hold back a response. “It was lovely. My mother gave Rowan and me several important lessons about boys that weekend.”
“Anything you’re willing to share?”
The flirtation was as easy as breathing. “Oh, nothing you’re not already aware of. Men like to posture and preen in front of women.”
The puzzled look that filled the hard lines of his face had her immediately thinking of what he must have looked like as a little boy. “You mean that’s some sort of deep, dark secret?”
“It is to twelve-year-old girls who don’t understand why strange Italian men are shouting words of adoration at their mother.”
“Ahhh. The mating ritual of the European male. I can see how that would be an eye-opener.” He paid the driver, and they slid from the car. He reached for her bag before gesturing her forward through the large revolving door that fronted their hotel. “For what it’s worth, I avoid showing my appreciation with whistles, catcalls or anything that can be construed that I spend my days hanging around on street corners.”
She couldn’t resist turning toward him and pushing a bit on the events of their flight. “So sexual innuendo at thirty-six thousand feet is more your style?”
“I prefer to think of myself as a man who takes bold action when required.”
Jack pressed a hand to the base of her spine as he guided her through the lobby toward check-in. The heavy width of his palm had sparks shooting up and down her back, and she couldn’t hide the small, feminine smile, so like her mother’s on that long-ago day.
For all her self-inflicted browbeating in the car, she’d fallen right back into Jack Andrews’s orbit. And damn it if she wasn’t enjoying the ride.
He pulled her to a halt in the lobby, the bustle of mid-day activity crisscrossing all around them. She nearly stumbled at the sudden stop, but Jack held her in place, his hands firm.
That dark, fathomless gaze drank her in as he stared down at her, and she couldn’t shake the very real sense he was going to kiss her again. Her breath caught in her throat for the briefest moment as the muscles in her knees gave way with a light tremble.
But instead of doing the expected, his lips veered off to press against her ear. His warm breath sent shivers coursing through her, but it was the dark, husky words that had heat curling in her belly.
“And I rarely miss an opportunity.”
As they moved determinedly on toward the check-in desk, Kensington could only muster up one thought.
Point, Mr. Andrews.
* * *
Whatever sexual innuendo had threaded through their travel to Rome, all evidence of it had vanished two hours later as she and Jack sat with the head of the Italian Special Forces assigned to the Tierra Kimber case. Dante Ferrero had the swarthy good looks of his countrymen, set off by a blazing pair of blue eyes that, Kensington was quite sure, had set the hearts of his fellow countrywomen on fire since his youth.
Despite the man’s attractive features and intense focus, she couldn’t help comparing him to Jack. Where Dante’s appeal was nearly blinding upon first notice, Jack’s was more subtle. And far more predatory.
He had a masculine grace that was unexpected in a man with such a large frame. And where it would be easy to assume Jack’s power lay in his ability to use blunt force, it was actually his more subtle approach—and shockingly sharp intellect—that were the real weapons in his arsenal.
The man was lethal.
And she suspected far too many enemies had learned that lesson a moment too late.
Pulling herself from her reverie, she flipped once more through the briefing packet Dante had given each of them. She needed to shake off whatever fanciful notions had gripped her and get her damn head in the game. Jack Andrews was just a man. A powerful one, yes, but a man all the same.
So why couldn’t she keep herself from adding up the various attributes that continued to intrigue her beyond measure?
Focusing on work—the age-old remedy for pushing problems to the back of one’s mind—she turned to Dante. “Mr. Ferrero, you and your team continue to maintain Ambassador Pryce is using his position to move diamonds and, based on this dossier, likely drugs, as well. Those are serious charges. I must ask again why you simply don’t have him removed from his position. The Italian government is well within its right to do so.”
“The benefit of getting to the bottom of the corruption outweighs the potential political embarrassment.” Dante paused briefly, as if weighing his words, before adding, “The highest leaders of the Republic are in accord on this matter.”
“But what if he’s innocent?”
Dante smiled, but the gesture never reached the icy blue of his eyes. “Ever the optimist, Miss Steele?”
“I prefer to think of myself as practical and pragmatic. I rarely have reason to be optimistic in my line of work.”
The smile broadened and she sensed an underlying approval in his response. “As Mr. Andrews and I discussed yesterday before your trip to Italy, we’ve let the ambassador know you both will be joining his security detail. He has no reason to think this is anything beyond routine.”
“And he asked no questions?”
“Your reputations precede you both. Ambassador Pryce is delighted to make your acquaintance.” Dante nodded slightly. “Yours in particular, Ms. Steele.”
Jack’s grip on the papers tightened before he leaned forward. “The ambassador does understand we’re there as hired employees.”
“Of course. But Ms. Steele’s reputation is quite...distinguished.”
“As an expert in her field, no doubt.”
Jack’s ready defense opened another soft spot and Kensington fought to keep the discussion on point. “If Pryce knows what my firm is capable of, he must be curious as to why we’ve been hired, too. Especially as it’s really Mr. Andrews who’s been given the job.”
“Not at all. As I said, the ambassador and his staff have been informed the matter is routine and that senior-level intelligence is being added to his security detail. I think you would call it a ‘special assignment.’” Dante hesitated—if she’d not been watching him so closely she’d have missed it. “Again,