“Sure,Sister.”
Dylan was onto her. But what else could she have done? She couldn’t let them hamstring him.
As they drew closer to the bridge, she slipped her arm around Dylan’s waist, felt him tense at her touch. “Put your arm around me. You’re my lover.”
The contact was electric. But she didn’t have time to think about that.
She started talking about the imaginary time her mother had caught the two of them stealing cigarettes as teenagers, willing herself to relax and laugh. “I thought my mother was going to turn us over to the police herself.”
Dylan chuckled convincingly. “It’s a good thing you’re such a clever liar.”
Yeah, he was onto her.
She shifted her attention to the men on the bridge, who watched them approach. She’d spent endless months in the role of a religious sister, suppressing her sexuality. It felt strange—and exhilarating—to flip the switch in the opposite direction. She hit them with everything she had, looking from man to man, giving them a sexy smile, speaking in a purr. “Caballeros.”
Gentlemen.
Like the idiots they were, they returned her greeting, looked her up and down, smiled—and moved aside.
* * *
Dylan watched Gabriela work,saw the effect she had on the men—an effect to which he was not immune even though he knew it was an act. Was she DEA? CIA?
¡Puñeta! Fuck.
Why had it taken that scissor kick for him to see the truth? Why hadn’t he realized she was an operative? How many nuns could deliver actionable intel? Or steal a key from kidnappers? Or stare down the barrel of Dylan’s rifle without fear?
Pull the trigger.
She must think he was a fucking idiot.
Hey, man, the truth hurts.
Oh, she was good, everything about her screaming sex. It rolled off her like a drug, like a spell, the men forgetting they were guarding the bridge, their gazes moving over her, lust on their stupid faces.
“Hola, mamacita.”Hello, sexy mama.
“Oye, jeva.”Hey, girlfriend.
The bridge wasn’t wide, forcing Dylan to take his arm from around her shoulder so they could walk single file. If these bastards decided to fight him, he’d have no choice but to draw his pistol and open fire. Thankfully, they seemed to have forgotten everything but Gabriela and her lethal curves.
Had her hips moved like that under her habit?
Quit looking at her ass.
A muscle-bound idiot with an AK stepped into her path, smiled down at her, gestured to Dylan. “If you get tired of that one, you know where to find me.”
Dylan glared at the bastard.
She smiled, lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He gets fucking angry when he’s jealous.”
So, now she was even using Dylan’s responses to flesh out her little performance.
The man stepped aside, giving Dylan space.
Gabriela took Dylan’s hand as they reached the other side, awareness once again zinging through him at her touch. She looked back over her shoulder, giving the men on the bridge one last brilliant smile.“Buenas noches.”Good night.
They left the wooded area, emerging onto a major thoroughfare hedged by tall buildings, no sign of the police anywhere.