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Holding steady, trying not to pull away from his touch, Harper forced herself to smile up at him. Beneath the bubbling water, Ryland’s fingers dug into her upper thigh. “Not soon enough,” she said and winked.
As they walked away, Ryland let out an annoyed sound—half frustrated sigh, half disgusted snort. “I fucking hate him,” he growled.
“He’s a creep. No doubt about it.”
“I need to let Banshee know the first names they’re going by and he should be able to get us a room number. I’ll sneak in during their scuba lesson, copy the laptop and then we’re out of here.”
Harper nodded, relieved they wouldn’t have to actually meet Tillman for dinner.
Relief that was entirely too short-lived.
???
Ryland and Harper returned to their room, changed out of their bathing suits—thank you Baby Jesus—and waited for Banshee to call with Tillman’s room number. Ryland figured the couple would be occupied with snorkeling for at least an hour or two, so the timing would be perfect.
When his phone rang, Ryland snatched it up, beyond impatient to get the job done. “Banshee, tell me something good.”
“Hey, Rip. I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“Bad first.”
“There are no guests registered under John and Jackie.”
Ryland clenched his jaw.Fucking wonderful.Harper was looking at him expectantly and he gave a slight shake of his head. “Okay, so they’re using another alias. What’s the good news?”
“You get to hang out with Tillman again. Maybe this time he can borrow your Speedo.”
Banshee laughed and Ryland grumbled a curse then hung up on him. Grabbing the back of his neck, he sighed. “Looks like we’re going to have to meet them for dinner.”
“It’s okay. We have a job to do. And we need to eat, right?”
Damn, she was a trooper. “I was hoping to be long gone by then. Sorry, sweetheart. But, hey, it’s just another chance for you to put those amazing acting skills of yours to use.”
“Please, don’t say that.” Her usual sunny disposition clouded over.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.
“I tried acting when I lived in L.A. and was repeatedly reminded that I wasn’t good enough.”
“Fuck L.A.,” Ryland said, immediately hating the city for making her doubt herself. “What the hell do they know?”
Her mouth edged up. “Well, it is the entertainment capital of the world, so I figured they knew something.”
“They don’t know shit.” He locked gazes with her aqua eyes, hating the vulnerability swimming in their depths. “I believe in you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“I do,” he repeated with conviction. “You handled Santiago like a pro and I know you’ll do the same with Tillman. You’ve already got him eating out of the palm of your hand from your performance in the jacuzzi. If I could give you an Oscar myself, I would.”
She chuckled. “Forget about a gold statue. But I’m willing to bet you can make it up to me in other ways, Mr. Rogers.”
Her suggestive tone made his pulse leap. “Oh, you can count on it.” Ryland slid his arms around her waist.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“Back to basics,” he said, and she arched a brow. “You’re going to distract him and be your charming self and I’m going to steal his keycard. I’ll make an excuse, sneak away and get it done.”
Ryland wasn’t overly worried about palming the room key off Tillman. He’d always been good with his hands and could accomplish the feat in his sleep. His mother had taught him and Addie how to pickpocket from anyone, anywhere, when they were kids. Despite not agreeing with their thieving ways, he’d put the skill to good use a few times before. After finding out their room number, the issue was making up a believable excuse so he could disappear for about fifteen minutes or so, sneak into the room and return to dinner with no one the wiser.
