Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(69)

“No. Yes.” Gabe jabbed a hand through his hair, muttering. “Damn it—no.” He opened the file and slapped it down on his lap. “We’re working together, watching each other’s back. It’s not a normal situation and—that means control can slip.” He nodded, pleased with his cool, sensible explanation. “It’s nothing we can’t handle. We’re smart and we’re strong, which means the curiosity is over now. Back to work.” Confident, he checked Izzy’s careful notes, tracking the next part of their wholly fictional biography. “Proper proportion,” he muttered. “Old World craftsmanship. Your favorite building is St. Peter’s in Rome,” he said. “And your favorite painter is Delacroix, because he—”

He looked up and every sane thought flew out of his mind. Summer was frowning as she yanked at the fine silk, trying to free her arms while she clutched the blouse to her chest. He coughed hard. “Did I miss something?”

“I’m taking this stupid thing off. The buttons are just about to pop.” One arm came free. “Being partially naked isn’t a good way for me to start our visit.” Summer pulled her other arm free. “I’ll wear my own white shirt.”

“It makes you look like a banker—or an FBI agent,” Gabe said hoarsely. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it to her. “Put this on and I’ll see if Sheriff McCall’s wife has something that will fit you.”

“You want me to borrow clothes from a complete stranger?” Summer pulled Gabe’s jacket up, her arms stabbing up and down beneath the leather. A moment later her blouse drifted to the floor.

“Thank God, that’s done. I couldn’t even breathe.”

His jacket opened, and Gabe saw the pink swell of one nipple beneath her sheer bra.

He felt the air leaving his body again. “Could you stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“Moving around. Making me nuts.”

“Am I making you nuts?”

“Close enough.”

She pulled Gabe’s leather jacket closed. “Then finish it.”

The air was leaving the room again, and his pulse was annoyingly loud. “Finish what?”

“The biography. The one you’re crushing in your hands.”

Gabe rubbed his neck, trying to make sense of what he’d been reading before Summer had pulled off the lace blouse. “You like Delacroix because of his vibrant colors and sheer emotion. Got all that?”

Summer rattled off the details flawlessly, which impressed the heck out of Gabe, because he could barely talk. “Okay,” he went on resolutely. “Now for tonight. After registering in the hotel as Duke and Marie Walker, we’ll stroll a bit and make ourselves visible in the lobby. Holding hands will be expected, as will a few overt signs of affection.”

Summer stopped struggling under the jacket. “How overt?”

“Whispered comments. Knowing laughter and a few hot kisses. We’re supposed to be madly in love, desperate to conceive a child, remember?”

Summer gnawed ruthlessly at her lip. “Fine.”

“So who’s your favorite painter?”

“Delacroix.” When Summer handed Gabe his jacket, her old blouse was back on. “After that comes St. Peter’s in Rome. And proper proportion. And Spanish Colonial Revival.”

“Clearly, you were one of those all-A front-row students I hated in high school.” Gabe’s smile faded as he took out a stack of photos. “These are shots of the clinic and the offices.”

“Who’s our informant, one of the doctors?” Summer mused. “A disgruntled nurse?”

“A researcher who’s been with the clinic for six years.”

“Can we trust him?”

“We don’t know yet. But even if he bails out, we can still pump the staff.”

“Not as useful as a trustworthy contact on the inside.” Summer held up the photo of a slender man with wire-rim glasses.

“That’s our man, Terence Underhill.”

Summer thumbed through three other photos of the clinic grounds, stacked them neatly, and handed them back to Gabe.

“Don’t tell me,” he said irritably. “On top of everything else, you’ve got a photographic memory.”

“You’ve been watching too many movies. There is no infallible ability to process visual information. Mostly, you need reference points. With faces, you look for the details that can’t be changed, like eyelid shape. Space between lip and nose. General jaw outline. Just about everything else can be distorted, colored, or reshaped.”

“Something tells me you’ve seen through a few disguises.”

“Enough.” She turned away, frowning. “The one that really mattered was the one my partner didn’t bother to check for.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Gabe said quietly.

“No? Maybe I could have argued a little harder, insisted a little longer. I didn’t put up much of a fuss when Riley hit the bushes without checking out the garage first.”

“You can’t go back.”

“I let things slip once—I told myself it was fine to bend the rules, that nothing would go wrong.” She stared at Gabe, her eyes filled with regret. “I won’t make that mistake again.”