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“So much better,” he said, reaching out to cup my breasts.
When he wrapped one arm around my waist and lowered his mouth to my nipple, my knees nearly gave out.
“Macht and Reaper,” I whispered.
“Won’t be here for another thirty minutes,” he said before moving to the other breast.
“But we agreed—” When he pinched the tender flesh between his thumb and finger, I couldn’t think, let alone speak.
He raised his head and looked into my eyes. “I told myself being here with you would be the greatest test of my restraint.”
I smiled. “How’s it going?”
“Fairly well, considering I want my hands on you every minute of the day.”
I shuddered.
“You’re cold. I should let you dress.”
“You should,” I said, making no move to skirt around him to do so.
He trailed kisses from my lips, down my neck, stopping before he reached my nipples. “Get dressed, Alena,” he said in a low, growly voice that was sexy as fuck. His eyes didn’t waver asI walked over to the bag where I kept my regular bra or when I put it on.
“Thanks,” I murmured when he handed me the pullover.
“I need one more,” he said once I had it on.
Before I could ask what he meant, he pulled me close and kissed me.
“If you only knew…”
“I think I do,” I said, squeezing my thighs together.
We kissed more until our mobiles vibrated with the alert that Macht and Reaper had arrived. I put my hand on his cheek and used my thumb to wipe my lipstick from his mouth. Then, while he answered the door, I went into the lavatory to reapply more.
“There isn’t much beyond what I told you last night,” I heard Macht say when I came out and found the three men seated at the table. I went over and joined them.
“Good morning, Macht, Reaper,” I said.
“Good morning, Elise.” Maybe it was Macht’s smile or the way his gaze remained riveted to mine that made Zeppelin take my hand.
“That’s my wife you’re flirting with,” he said in the same growly voice I found so sexy earlier.
Macht laughed. “You’re quite a good actor. You almost had me believing what’s between you is real.” He winked at Zeppelin, who scowled in response.
We arrivedin separate vehicles at the Corviglia ski area at zero nine hundred. Since locker XX427 was centrally located, Zeppelin and I rented two more in close proximity and loaded the ski gear Macht had thought to bring from the resort. Reaper did the same in a nearby storage area.
The instructions he’d been given said to put the recording device in a ski boot bag, then put it in the locker.
After ensuring our comms were in working order with his, Macht identified four places where we could get a good view but would also be inconspicuous. He’d also developed a schedule for us to take breaks and switch surveillance spots.
“Incoming,” Macht said through the comms at ten hundred thirty on the dot.
When a man wearing a suit and tie came around the corner, I understood why Macht was so certain he was our guy.
“Does he look familiar?” Zeppelin asked him.
“Affirmative. He’s the manager from BJB.”