Honeymoon With A Stranger. Frances Housden

would have liked to blame his reactions to the way the steam softened her round the edges, making her look more appealing than at first sight.

      Take her eyes. Right now they looked misty and vulnerable.

      Too much more of that and he’d end up believing the cover story she was using.

      “Shall I leave you to it, then?”

      “Uh-uh,” he told her, “not before we have a chance to talk.”

      “But we just talked.” She reached for the handle, her head turning away from him.

      “There are rules to be set.”

      Her eyes snapped open as she lifted her head to glare, eyes cool as steel. “Rules!” she protested. “What rules?”

      Mac stepped closer and held a finger to her lips. “Shush…”

      He bent closer, his lips almost touching her ear, his hand on her shoulder. Without the covering of her coat, Roxie’s bones felt fragile, easily broken.

      A surge of regret foreshadowed the emotion of that event coming to pass. For all he’d been rough on her earlier, and carried scars both bodily and mental from Lucia, he couldn’t bring himself to physically hurt Roxie.

      No, not him. But Zukah’s men—now, there was a different breed of animal all together.

      He tried to shrug off the thought. Such sentiments on his part were dangerous, the price so high he couldn’t afford to pay it.

      Better to remember this was simply an act they’d begun to save her life. “Don’t say anything you wouldn’t say in front of Zukah and his crew, especially out there,” he warned her, voice pitched to add a hard edge to the words.

      “The bathroom looks clear, but chances are the other room has been bugged.”

      She gave him another of her wide-eyed stares and mouthed one word. “Bugged.”

      What had she expected? Hadn’t they taught her the basics? She closed her eyes as if trying to get her head around the notion.

      “Look, they believe we’re lovers and that’s the way we have to play it, okay?”

      Beneath his palm, he felt a shiver accompany the nod she gave in reply. “Chérie, you’re freezing. Why don’t you take a shower while I look to see if they’ve provided anything useful apart from the bed? There doesn’t appear to be much in the way of heating so we’ll just have to cuddle up.”

      There was only one bed.

      Of course, Roxie understood that Mac’s suggestion was for the Algerian’s benefit, but she had to clamp her teeth down on a nervous stutter. “W-we’ll, what?”

      Mac raised a warm smile and she knew why; he expected her to share that bed with him.

      She wanted to ask, “What kind of illegal deal are you brokering that warrants us being threatened with guns and knives as well as taken prisoner?”

      But that was obviously one of the secrets he’d mentioned so she saved her breath. She wasn’t completely stupid.

      Mac was probably from the Russian mafia buying weapons from…

      Her thoughts faltered. She could feel Mac’s large, strong hand on her shoulder, strong enough to kill her with one blow.

      Darn, she needed to find a scenario that wasn’t so scary, but she couldn’t get it out of her mind and panic surfaced at the speed of light.

      Her chest expanded as she looked from his hand to him, and a scream built in her lungs.

      Mac cut it off with a kiss, and for a minute she couldn’t breathe never mind think. The kiss deepened, and before she knew what had happened she began to enjoy it. This wasn’t good.

      No. This was very bad.

      Her head was still spinning when he lifted his lips from hers. She’d just discovered what it meant to become putty in someone’s hands, but she wished they hadn’t belonged to Mac.

      “Better now?” His voice was gentle, as was the hand rubbing her back. Soft. Gentle. Sexy. “Believe me, you’ll get used to it in time.”

      She nodded, ignoring an urgent desire to melt into his arms and throw every particle of moral decency she believed in out of the window.

      “All you have to remember is no matter what I do or say, play along. They think we’re lovers. We have only to keep up the charade and everything will be okay.”

      As his breath grazed her cheek, she was struck by the absurdity of them standing so close, when he’d said they could speak freely without being overheard.

      Yet, she stayed where she was, steam billowing like sea fog round an island, hiding them from the rest of the world. “You really believe that we’ll get out of this with our skins?”

      “Yes, and you better believe it, too. So far, you’ve handled it like a pro. Be proud of that.”

      In a way he was correct. It was one thing letting him know she was frightened, but she had hidden it from the others. Mac aside, that’s what had kept her alive. “I’ll try.”

      He patted her shoulder, an action that ought to have reassured her. “Have that shower now,” he said, “and try to get warm while I check the rest of the attic. If I find a bug we’ll put it to good use.”

      “You mean misinformation?”

      “Exactly. And by the way, while I’m gone, get used to the idea of sharing the bed.”

      So much for him treating her like a niece.

      She spluttered, but he didn’t give her a chance to object.

      “I’ve no intention of freezing my butt on the floor, so we share the bed and the warmth and that’s all. However, if I find any bugs next door we might have to do a little pretending. Make the bed squeak and moan a little. Put on a show to stop arousing their suspicions.”

      Mac left before she could let rip. Put on a show? She hadn’t signed up for this. In fact, she hadn’t signed up for being intimidated by Mac, or being taken hostage.

      And she definitely hadn’t signed up for sharing a bed with a man she’d known less than six hours.

      Chapter 4

      Mac sent up a silent thank-you to his Maker that he discovered the camera on top of the armoire before starting his search.

      Guess they hadn’t counted on him being so tall.

      His second piece of luck was in knowing the make and model. It recorded in monochrome and was triggered by movement, but it didn’t have a facility for sound.

      It irritated him to know that if his mind had been on the job, instead of worrying about Roxie, he would have anticipated its presence.

      It made sense that Zukah wouldn’t expect him to go around talking to himself. That didn’t mean he could discount them having placed listening devices.

      The camera meant he needed to take a much more subtle approach to searching for the little beasties.

      On leaving the bathroom, the first place he’d checked had been behind the armoire. The woodwork was badly scarred and it was too heavy to move without making a noise.

      He’d run his fingers down the small gap between it and the wall next to the bathroom door and found nothing. But the armoire wasn’t as high as the bar he used to do chin-ups.

      As soon as he raised his head above the contoured wooden ledge, he’d noticed where the dust had been disturbed.

      Then again, the wire leading from the miniature camera was a complete giveaway. What bothered him most about the setup was the camera angle. It hit the bed square on.

      Roxie was going to give him