Alpha Squad. Suzanne Brockmann

      “There’s nothing to tell,” Joe answered evenly. He glanced up to find Blue watching him.

      Damn. Blue could read his mind. Joe’s connection to Blue was so tight, there were few thoughts that appeared in Joe’s head that Blue wasn’t instantly aware of. But what would Blue make of the thoughts Joe was having right now? What would he make of the sick, nauseous feeling Joe had in the pit of his stomach?

      Stupid. Ignorant.

      Well, that about summed it all up, didn’t it? Joe certainly knew now exactly what Veronica St. John thought of him, didn’t he? He certainly knew why she’d thought that kiss was a mistake.

      Cowboy shut off the water. Dripping, he came out of the stall and into the room. “You sure there’s nothing you can tell us about Veronica, Cat? Oh, come on, buddy, I can think of a thing or two,” he said, taking a towel from a pile of clean ones and giving himself a perfunctory swipe. “Like, are you and she doing the nightly naked two-step?”

      “No,” Joe replied flatly, pulling on his pants.

      “You planning on it?” Cowboy asked. He slipped into one of the plush hotel robes that were hanging on the wall.

      “Back off, Jones,” Blue said warningly.

      “No.” Joe answered Cowboy tersely as he yanked his T-shirt over his head and thrust his arms into the sleeves of his shirt.

      “Cool,” Cowboy said. “Then you don’t mind if I give her a try—”

      Joe spun and grabbed the younger man by the lapels of his robe, slamming him up against a row of metal lockers with a crash. “Stay the hell away from her,” he snapped. He let go of Cowboy, and turned to include Blue and Harvard in his glare. “All of you. Is that clear?”

      He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

      The noise echoed as Cowboy stared at Harvard and Blue.

      “Shoot,” he finally said. “Anybody have any idea what the hell’s going on?”

      Chapter Nine

      Room service arrived at the royal suite before Joe did.

      “Set it out on the table, please,” Veronica instructed the waiter.

      She’d ordered a full-course meal, from appetizers to dessert, complete with three different wines.

      This afternoon’s lesson was food—or more precisely, eating food. There was a hundred-dollar-a-plate charity luncheon in Boston, Massachusetts, that had been left on the prince’s tour schedule. Both the location and the visibility of the event were right for a possible assassination attempt, but it was more than a hi-and-bye appearance. It would involve more than Joe’s ability to stand and wave as if he were Prince Tedric.

      The hotel-suite door opened, and Joe came inside, followed by three FInCOM agents. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his T-shirt underneath, and he met Veronica’s eyes only briefly before turning to the laden dining table. It was quite clear that he was still upset with her.

      “What’s this?” he asked.

      “This is practice for the Boston charity luncheon,” Veronica replied. “I hope you’re hungry.”

      Joe stared at the table. It was loaded with dishes covered with plate-warmers. It was set for two, with a full array of cutlery and three different wineglasses at each setting. What, didn’t Miss High-and-Mighty think he knew how to eat with a fork? Didn’t she know he dined with admirals and four-star generals at the Officers’ Club?

      Stupid. Ignorant.

      Joe nodded slowly, wishing he was still pissed off, wishing he was still nursing the slow burn he’d felt upstairs in the exercise room. But he wasn’t. He was too tired to be angry now. He was too tired to feel anything but disappointment and hurt. Damn, it made him feel so vulnerable.

      The room-service waiter was standing next to the table, looking down his snotty nose at Joe’s unbuttoned shirt. Gee, maybe the waiter and Veronica had had a good laugh about Joe before he’d arrived.

      “This is unnecessary,” he said, turning back to look at Veronica. Man, she looked pretty in that blue dress. Her hair was tied back with some kind of ribbon, and—Forget about her, he told himself harshly. She was just some rich girl who’d made it more than clear that they lived in two different worlds, and there was no crossing the border. He was stupid and ignorant, and kissing him had been a mistake. “Believe it or not, I already know which fork is for the salad and which fork is for the dessert. It might come as a shock to you, but I also know how to use a napkin and drink from a glass.”

      Veronica actually looked surprised, her blue eyes growing even wider. “Oh,” she said. “No. No, I knew that. That’s not what this is.” She let a nervous laugh escape. “You actually thought I thought I’d need to teach you how to eat?”

      Joe was not amused. “Yeah.”

      My God, he was serious. He was standing there, his powerful arms folded across his broad chest, staring at her with those mystifying dark eyes. Veronica remembered that flash of hurt in Joe’s eyes when they’d argued in the exercise room. What had she said? She’d called him stupid and ignorant. Oh, Lord. She still couldn’t believe those words had come out of her mouth.

      “I’m so sorry,” she said.

      His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

      “I owe you an apology,” Veronica explained. “I was very angry this afternoon, and I said some things I didn’t mean. The truth is, I was frustrated and angry with myself. I was the one who fell asleep. It was all my fault, and I tried to take it out on you. I shouldn’t have. I am sorry.”

      Joe looked at the waiter and then at the FInCOM agents who were sitting on the sofa, listening to every word. He crossed to the door and opened it invitingly. “You guys mind stepping outside for a sec?”

      The FInCOM agents looked at each other and shrugged. Rising to their feet, they crossed to the door and filed out into the corridor. Joe turned to the waiter. “You, too, pal.” He gestured toward the open door. “Take a hike.”

      He waited until the waiter was outside, then closed the door tightly and crossed back to Veronica. “You know, these guys will give you privacy if you ask for it,” he said.

      She nodded. “I know,” she said. She lifted her chin slightly, steadily meeting his gaze. “It’s just…I was rude to you in public, I felt I should apologize to you in public, too.”

      Joe nodded, too. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah. That sounds fair.” He looked at her, and there was something very close to admiration in his eyes. “That sounds really fair.”

      Veronica felt her own eyes flood with tears. Oh, damn, she was going to cry. If she started to cry, she was going to feel once more just how gentle Joe’s hard-as-steel arms could be. And Lord, she didn’t want to be reminded of that. “I am sorry,” she said, blinking back the tears.

      Oh, damn, Veronica was going to cry, Joe thought as he took a step toward her, then stopped himself. No, she was trying hard to hide it. It was better if he played along, if he pretended he didn’t notice. But, man, the sight of those blue eyes swimming in tears made his chest ache, reminding him of this morning, when he’d held her in his arms. Reminding him of that unbelievable kiss…

      Veronica forced a smile and held out her hand to him. “Still friends?” she asked.

      Friends, huh? Joe had never had a friend before that he wanted to pull into his arms and kiss the living daylights out of. As he gazed into her eyes, the attraction between them seemed to crackle and snap, like some living thing.

      Veronica was okay. She was a decent person—the fact that she’d apologized proved