down first into the dim interior of the hangar and held out his hand to Tracie.
For a moment, she refused his proffered hand, her brow puckering. Then she laid her fingers in his.
The last time he and Tracie touched, he’d felt an electric jolt. This time was no different and the fire raced all the way through Rip’s body. What was it about the woman that had his body on high sexual alert? To get his mind off her, he leaned close and asked, “If the DEA agent was terminated for what he knew, how has his boss managed to stay alive?”
Tracie nodded. “Perhaps he doesn’t know anything.”
Rip ground to a halt. “In that case, we’re wasting our time.”
“We won’t know that until we meet with him.” Without slowing, Tracie strode across the hangar lengthening the distance between them.
A man appeared at a doorway. “This way Mr. and Mrs. Gideon. Your car is waiting.”
Rather than be left in the hangar, Rip ran to catch up, falling in step beside Tracie.
A sleek black limousine waited at the curb, the chauffeur holding the door. He didn’t speak a word as he held the door open while Tracie and Rip slid inside.
Once the door was closed, Tracie turned to Rip. “Have you considered the fact that Morris Franks’s willingness to talk to us might be an indication he knew more than he let on to others in his own department?”
Rip’s eyes narrowed and he stared out the windshield as if trying to see into the future. “Or, he could be looking for more information himself.”
“I suppose we’ll know soon enough. The hotel isn’t far from the airport.”
Tracie sat across the limo from Rip, not any single part of her body or limbs so much as touching him. Rip found himself wanting to reach across the short distance and pull her into his arms. The scent of her hair was doing strange things to him. Funny that even with her incredible legs and the classy way the red dress fit her body, the smell of her shampoo was what got to him most. It set every one of his nerves on edge and his groin tightened.
As a SEAL assigned to Special Boat Team 22—conducting missions and training their own team for missions as well as other SEAL teams—he hadn’t had the time nor the inclination to pursue a lasting romantic relationship. Not that there were many women to go around when he was stuck in the backwater swamps of the Mississippi bayous at Stennis where SBT-22 was headquartered.
If he were to pursue a woman, Tracie wouldn’t be the one. She was some kind of special agent for Hank Derringer. She didn’t have any more time than he had to get involved. Not that they would even be compatible. She was too…
Rip struggled to find the right word.
The tightness of her jaw and the slightly narrowed, beautiful green eyes said it all. Intense.
He’d bet she was just as intense in bed. Again his groin strained against the denim of his jeans. Now was not the time to think about getting naked with a woman. He had a job to do.
As a dead man, he needed to resolve the case so that he could resurface alive before the Navy processed him out of a job.
“We’re here,” Tracie said as the limo slid up beside the curb in front of what appeared to be a three-star hotel only a few blocks from the airport. “The driver will remain nearby in case we need him on short notice.”
Rip nodded and glanced at the hotel. “Once inside, who do we ask for?”
“We don’t. We check in as newlyweds.” Tracie glanced his way. “You’ll need your driver’s license and credit card. Our guy is in room 627. We’ll make our way up to his room after we check in.”
Rip pulled out the wallet Hank had provided and familiarized himself with the contents and his new name. Chuck Gideon. “Who came up with the name?”
“Does it matter?”
“No.” Rip got out, rounded the vehicle and beat the chauffeur to opening Tracie’s door. “Mrs. Gideon, shall we get a room?” He winked and smiled.
Tracie’s eyes narrowed slightly and she placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet on the pavement.
His fingers tingled where they touched hers, but Rip schooled his expression, determined to give no indication that Tracie had any effect on him.
As soon as she was on her feet, she let go of his hand.
Not to be deterred, and using their married status as an excuse, he rested his hand at the small of her back. A slight tremor shook her body. Inside the lobby of the hotel, Rip adopted his role. “We’d like a room for the night.”
“Just a moment, sir.” The hotel manager’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “We have one suite left on the seventh floor.”
“Perfect,” Tracie smiled. “We’ll take it.”
Rip grinned at the manager. “She can’t wait to get me alone.” He held up her left hand, displaying the diamond ring and wedding band on her finger. Then he held up his left hand, displaying a matching wedding band. “Newlyweds.”
The manager smiled and handed them two key cards. “Congratulations.”
“Let’s wait to get the luggage until we’ve seen the room,” Tracie said, with a flirty bat of her eyelashes.
Though Rip knew it was all part of the act, it didn’t stop his pulse from leaping and his blood from thrumming hot through his veins. They stepped into the elevator. Before the door closed, Rip pulled Tracie into his arms and kissed her soundly.
The elevator doors slid shut and Tracie pushed him away, straightening her dress unnecessarily, her hands shaking. “We don’t want to look overeager.”
“Don’t you think newlyweds are anxious to get to their hotel room?”
Tracie shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, never having been a newlywed.” Her words were tight and it was as if a shutter descended over her green eyes.
“Well, I guess that answers one question.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
He smiled, liking that he’d shaken her with his kiss. “You’ve never been married. So you’re not married now.”
Turning her back to him, she said, “What does it matter?”
“I would think it would matter a little since we just kissed.”
“All part of our cover. It didn’t mean anything.”
“If you were married, wouldn’t you hope that your husband would be a little jealous of the man kissing his wife?”
“I would hope he’d understand it’s part of the job. Not that I’m getting married anytime soon.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not convinced marriage is all that great.”
Having been a SEAL for seven years, Rip had much the same perspective, though he’d never voiced his opinion on the institution. Tracie made him reconsider his own stand on matrimony. “I think marriage is okay for some.”
Tracie’s lips twisted as she glanced up at him. “But not you?”
He countered with raised brows. “Or you?”
“Marriage is hard enough when the two parties involved live under the same roof all year long. My jobs in the FBI and now on Hank’s team have kept me moving. I don’t have the time or the inclination to set down roots.”
The door opened on the seventh floor. Rip took the lead, turning toward the stairwell instead of the room the hotel manager had assigned them. Tracie was right behind him.
He hurried down the stairs checking for security cameras. He’d seen one in the hallway