Ash hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Not only would he and Jules be in great danger, the chances of getting to Carl Lang were phenomenally smaller. There was still no substantial proof that would tie him to any of the terrorist events. The auction was going to be their chance to catch him in the act.
“Ash?”
“Yeah?”
“Think it might be getting a little too steamy in here?”
While he’d been standing here, ruminating and, okay, yeah, enjoying having Jules in his arms, the entire bathroom had filled with thick steam.
“I’ll get out and let you shower. I can shower after you.”
“Won’t it look strange for you to come back in here?” Before he could answer, she rushed on, “The shower is big enough for the two of us. Let’s finish and get out. Okay?”
Tenderness flooded through him. He knew she was uncomfortable like this, but she was thinking of the mission. Instead of doing the wise thing—keeping his focus solely on the mission—Ash did something totally out of character.
His mouth still pressed up against her ear, he said, “Jules, mind if I kiss you for real?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
From the moment he’d met her, Jules Stone had been surprising him. This was no exception. With a groan, Ash took a step back and, cupping her face in his hands, put his mouth to her wet, steamy, and delicious lips. Careful to resist moving his hands, he put all of his energy and focus into making love to her mouth.
For the first time ever, his mind was not on the job. Just once…just this once, Ash put the mission on hold and took this moment for himself.
* * *
Ash’s lips were like fire, devouring hers with an all-consuming heat. She wanted to sink into him, let him devour all of her. Though his hands stayed put, Jules couldn’t help but wish they wouldn’t. The thought of those large, callused hands roaming over her sent a floodgate of need through her body.
The entire time he’d been whispering to her about Schrader and the new complication, she had been hyperaware that she was standing naked in the arms of an equally naked Asher Drake. Concentrating on his words had been more challenging than she’d ever thought possible. For years, the job, whatever it was at the time, always came first. It was how she kept focused on the here and now and not on the past. But never had she been more tempted to forget the job.
Having him ask if he could kiss her for real was one of the sweetest moments of her life. But this? This wasn’t sweet. This was raw, savage, beautiful—an experience beyond her imaginings. Ash’s mouth ate at hers as if he was starving for her taste.
Recognizing his restraint in not touching her, Jules grabbed hold of his upper arms to balance herself. The tension in them told her how much he held himself back.
When he drew away from her, they were both breathing heavily. Ash leaned his forehead against hers, and they stood in the middle of the over-steamed shower, gasping like two long-distance runners who’d just finished a harrowing race.
“Guess we’d better shower before the steam runs out.”
Jules nodded. Words were beyond her at the moment. She’d just had one of the most sensual and profound moments of her life, but when she walked out of the shower, she would be Elsa again…coolly composed. She needed to get her game face on and fast.
Pulling away from him, she turned and hurriedly soaped her body and rinsed. She’d worry about her hair later. She could hear Ash behind her, doing the same thing. When they walked out of the shower, all the thoughts and feelings that kiss had invoked would have to be put on the back burner. They were here to do a job, and if Carl Lang was indeed Schrader’s special guest, outmaneuvering both men would require all of their wits.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Masks securely in place, Ash and Jules headed downstairs. Things might have gotten a little out of control in the shower, but they’d put that behind them for now. They had a job to do.
Her hair pulled away from her face, Jules carried herself like an ice princess, walking with an air of superiority, confident in her beauty and place in the world. The off-the-shoulder black cocktail dress, which landed a couple of inches above the knee, perfectly displayed her lovely arms and legs. Ash had done a double take when he’d seen her. He wasn’t worried about Omar crossing the line with her. She wasn’t Schrader’s type. On the other hand, Carl Lang’s appetite for beautiful women who challenged him was well documented. Elsa Olsen was just his type.
When he’d helped her with the clasp of her necklace, he’d whispered that fact in her ear. She had given him a subtle nod, and that was all Ash had needed. Jules could handle herself with anyone. Of that, he had no doubt.
The instant they arrived in the foyer, Omar was there to greet them. He was dressed in formal attire and looked as nervous as a teenager at his first prom. Either this deal meant more to him than Ash had anticipated, or there was an even bigger surprise coming. He gave Jules’s elbow a little warning squeeze. Something was off here, and he needed both of them to be prepared for anything.
“Elsa, don’t you look lovely.”
With a queenly nod, Elsa acknowledged the compliment and allowed Omar to take her hand and lead her into one of the large living rooms they’d been shown earlier.
Ash was only a few steps behind them, his eyes and ears open for whatever came next. At the entrance, Omar stopped and looked over his shoulder toward Humphrey. “I told you I had a surprise.”
Omar stepped aside, allowing Ash to see the three other occupants of the room. A man and a woman stood beside a chair. The man was heavily muscled and had the empty expression of a ruthless killer.