The Bossy Prince (Rugged and Royal #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,28

listening devices with the electronics detector hidden in the bottom of my can of hairspray, I worry about that woman, along with the children I saw splashing by the beach.

There are innocent people here who could be hurt or even killed if this mission goes south. One contingency agent is planted in the resort staff, someone whose identity Nick and I won’t learn unless we’re in serious danger. Hopefully, there will be no need for that, let alone for calling in more backup.

We need to finish this alone. We need to get the information we came for and get out before anyone suspects we’re not what we appear to be.

That, of course, will be easier if we’re not watched while we’re in our room.

So far, so good on that front. There’s nothing in the bathroom but marble countertops, a massive tub for two, a multi-headed shower larger than my entire bathroom back home, plush towels so soft I’d use them as library cozy blankets, and delicious, tropical-flower-scented toiletries.

Once I’m sure the space is clear, I quickly change into my suit.

A glance in the mirror confirms that I should be on the cover of a circa 1980’s Muscle Cars Magazine, but I allow myself only a single, soft gagging sound before I grab one of the light cotton robes from a hook on the back of the door.

Once I wrap myself in the pale blue fabric, I pad barefoot into the room to find Nick already changed into his suit and stretched out by our balcony pool.

I circle his lounge chair, doing my best not to stare as his bare torso comes into view. But damn it, the man looks good with his shirt off. Really good, with the kind of defined abs and delicious hip indentions that make a girl want to trace his muscles with her tongue.

Forcing my gaze back to his face, I perch on the edge of his lounger and arch a brow.

He gives me a discreet thumbs-up and wiggles his brows in return.

“All clear in the bathroom, too,” I say, relief loosening my shoulders.

“I told you. They trust me,” he says. “Great job on the way over, by the way. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just another ditzy blonde out to score free drinks and a winter tan dark enough to make your friends jealous when you get home.”

I sniff. “Well, I’m sure you have plenty of experience with those.”

“I tend to date bookish brunettes, actually.”

I snort. “Bookish?”

“Well, they know how to read. Mostly,” he says with a laugh. His gaze dips to the close of my robe before returning to my face. “What about you?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t date.”

“Maybe you should,” he says. “Dating can be fun. And you seem like you could use some fun.”

“Fun isn’t the word I would use to describe my experiences with dating.”

“What word would you use?”

I ponder that for a moment. “Disappointing. Aggravating. Repulsive. Depends on the man and the duration of the torture.”

He chuckles. “Then you’re picking the wrong men. Or the wrong activities. Take your next victim to see some live music or for an afternoon on the slopes. Something that’s always a good time, no matter who’s along for the ride.”

Ignoring the “victim” dig, I say dryly, “Thanks for the tip, but I think we have more important things to discuss.” I nod toward the resort sprawling out around us. “This place is bigger than it looked on the map.”

Nick’s eyes narrow, and he reaches for a pair of sunglasses on the small table between the lounge chairs, sliding them onto his face. “I noticed that, too. And there’s a cluster of buildings at the base of the mountain. I don’t remember seeing those before. Not even in the satellite imagery.”

“They could have been concealed by foliage.” I sit up straighter, lifting my chin to study the mountain, where, supposedly, the resort has zip lines that thread back and forth between the trees from the summit down. I can’t see any of those from here, but I can easily spot the squat, windowless, light green buildings Nick noticed.

He’s right. They couldn’t have been there before. The trees surrounding them aren’t large enough to hide the structures in an aerial shot.

“Maybe they’re recent additions?” I muse.

“Could be. They build things quickly around here, for sure,” he agrees. “A friend of mine bought land on the other side of the island a few years ago. In three months he