He let himself for a minute or two, as her hot kisses blurred out the world.
But in the back of his mind the clock ticked loudly. As much as it pained him, he broke the kiss. “One, that was epic. Two, I want more. Three, I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”
“I’ve been thinking of you, too,” she said, running her fingers along the front of his shirt. She smiled at him, a grin that spread from sea to shining sea. She was happy today. Wildly happy, and it was infectious.
“You’re cuddly today.”
She shrugged coyly, then brushed a finger along his jawline. “I guess the best sex of my life makes me that way. Hope you don’t mind,” she said, pursing her lips playfully. She sneaked a hand behind him and gripped his ass. Squeezed it hard.
He hitched in a breath. “Now listen, sexy girl, you’re going to send me into the gallery with a hard-on if we keep this up.”
“But I like you hard,” she said, gripping the fabric of his shirt. Her hands were everywhere. Zipping all over him. Grabbing him. Touching him. Like an attack of fantastic sensations.
“It’s a state I vastly enjoy being in when I’m with you. But I do work better when I’m not thinking about fucking you,” he said, then lifted her off him, and they left the busy café and turned to a side street away from the crowds.
“Ready to place the order?” he said, then ducked down a quiet block along the beach.
She reached for her phone from her bag, blocked her number, and made the phone c all.
They needed to get inside Isla’s gallery to look around. Nighttime would have been ideal, but there was simply too much security in the evenings in this section of town. Stores, restaurants, and high-end hotels nearby employed ample guards after hours, so they’d have to find a way to get into Isla’s office during the day.
Their plan was risky but far safer than breaking in after hours, when they stood a good chance of being caught and hauled away. They had to get inside during the day, when no one suspected a break-in.
As Steph called, Jake crossed his fingers, hoping all the pieces fell into place.
“Good afternoon. This is Clementine’s Catering,” the woman who answered the phone said in a cheery voice.
As a palm tree swayed gently in the breeze by the water, Steph adopted her best professional tone. “Hi there. This is Lynx O’Malley’s personal assistant. We spoke earlier when I placed an order for lunch.”
“Yes, indeed. How can I help you? This is Clementine.”
“Ah, wonderful. Good to chat with you, Clementine. I’m calling to confirm the lunch delivery to Isla’s Island Gallery. It will be there in twenty minutes, correct?” Steph asked, pushing her sunglasses up on the bridge of her nose. Earlier that day, during the morning planning session with Jake at her hotel, they’d come up with the plan—it was a distraction strategy, but Steph hoped it would work long enough to sniff around. All they needed was to buy some time in the daylight, when no one would suspect what they were up to.
Steph had placed the order, supposedly on behalf of Isla’s favorite artist, who was on a meditation retreat. Steph had paid for the pending lunch delivery with an American Express gift card, so she remained untraceable.
“Yes, ma’am. We pride ourselves on on-time delivery,” Clementine said, sounding as peppy as her name. “One p.m. sharp. We’ve got the beet salad, the cucumber sandwiches, the mushroom caviar—”
“And the olives?”
“Indeed, we have the olives.”
Jake stood next to her, an eager look in his wide-open eyes. She flashed him a thumbs-up, like she genuinely wanted to reassure him that everything was on track between the two of them. He grinned in return. Fabulous. He had no clue she was on to his ruse.
“And you’ll be sure to stay and serve all the food?” Steph said, returning to her phone call and resuming her pace along the street, Jake by her side. “I ask because Lynx wants Isla and her staff to feel treated to a wonderful meal as a special way of saying thank you for all the amazing work she’s done for the art community,” Steph said with a flourish in her tone.
“In my humble opinion, nothing quite says thank you like specialty olives and roasted beet salad.”
“Excellent. Lynx is so thrilled. He can’t wait to hear how much she enjoys the gourmet catered lunch,” Steph said, thinking that Lynx wouldn’t even know he’d sent them lunch for a few more days. She suspected he wasn’t tied to his phone while on a retreat. They walked past a sandwich shop boasting Caribbean-themed panini served on the patio under a red-checked awning. They smelled yummy, and the scent reminded her that some nourishment would be mighty welcome in her belly. But there’d be time for that later.
Now it was work work work.
Steph hung up and smiled at the enemy. Her plan was working. The man was putty in her arms, and once they pulled off Mission Lunch, she’d pull off Get Back My Damn Diamond. “All systems are go.”
“Let’s review this,” Jake said, parking his hands on her shoulders as they stood outside the panini shop. To get her to focus, but also because he liked touching her.
“Yes, let’s review everything,” she said, that same sexy tone returning to her voice. She was a live wire of sexuality today.
“If you see something or hear something, or if they start to move, you text me. It’s set to buzz when you call,” he said, letting go of one shoulder to tap his back pocket where his phone was parked.