Bulletproof Bride - By Diana Duncan Page 0,27

in the parking lot, Gabe waggled his fingers at Dale. "Bye, handsome."

The blond hulk blanched, and stammered a farewell.

"What a huge disappointment for all womankind," Melody murmured to Tessa.

He could hear Tessa grinding her teeth. "You don't know the half of it."

Gabe grinned. Wait until she saw what he had planned for tomorrow.

She would kill him.

* * *

Chapter 6

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Tessa's co-workers rallied around her at the bank the next morning, offering sympathy over her ordeal. After several pointed glares from Mr. Trask, she finally settled everyone into the pre-opening routine.

Leaving her office door open, she sat behind her desk and stowed her briefcase underneath. Her personal assortment of ferns, potted palms and fichus grouped around the small room offered welcome relief from the austere gold-and-black decor.

She tuned out the office chatter and sipped tea from her musical Elvis mug as she leafed through a stack of memos. The kiosk ATM machine was still jamming up. She sighed. How many trips would the service reps have to make before they fixed the darn thing?

"Ms. Beaumont?" Edwin Trask's pompous summons made her jerk her gaze up.

Her stocky, mustached boss marched into her office with another man in tow. The guy shuffled behind Trask, his slumped shoulders covered by a baggy olive suit that clashed with his purple shirt and yellow suspenders. A thick layer of goo slicked back hair of indeterminate color, and Coke-bottle glasses with square black frames shrank his eyes to pinpoints. He offered a shy smile, displaying prominent buckteeth. She stifled a groan. Not another Trask nephew!

Trask cleared his throat. "Carla quit without notice. This is your new teller, and he has impeccable references. I trust you'll train him with the usual efficiency."

Her vault teller had quit? Her stomach sank. If the newbie's I.Q. matched his fashion sense, they were all in serious trouble. She pasted a frozen smile on her face. "Of course." Mentally chiding herself for judging the man by appearance, she rose and offered her hand. "Tessa Beaumont."

He enfolded her hand in lean, warm fingers, and sparks tingled up her arm. What on earth?

She tilted her head, studying his face. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Oh, no! It couldn't be! She should have suspected shenanigans when Gabe sedately drove her to work in a beat-up mustard-yellow Pinto. Instead, she'd blithely swallowed his explanation of a low profile. When she'd asked him if he was moonlighting at Moore's pre-owned car emporium, he'd grinned. He'd admitted the 'Vette was his, but his desperate-for-results boss had given him a generous expense account for rentals. Gabe had said he'd keep her in sight and she'd assumed he meant surveillance, like before.

Her mistake.

"Bond, Gabe Bond," he answered in a nasal twang, before flashing the wicked grin she knew so well, now partially disguised by buckteeth.

"Ms. Beaumont?" Trask prodded.

Belatedly, she realized she was standing there with her mouth hanging open, and snapped it shut. She suddenly had new empathy for Lois Lane

.

Trask shattered the stunned silence. "You can take it from here. I'll be out of the office all morning." He strode away.

Once her boss had left, her muddled senses cleared. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"This is my 'nobody suspects the nerd' disguise. Like it?"

"You might have warned me."

"And miss the priceless expression on your face?" He laughed, his broad shoulders shaking under the baggy jacket. "Wish I'd had a camera. Told you paybacks were hell. I guess we're even."

She mentally counted to twenty. "You're going to stick out worse than a hooker in church in those hideous clothes. Aren't undercover agents supposed to blend in?"

"This is better than camouflage. Most people don't bother to look beneath the surface. Everyone will take one look and discount any threat. Nobody will want to know me better. Admit it, what's the first thing you thought?"

"Point taken." She massaged her forehead, where a steady ache pulsed. "Do you know anything about banking, Mr. Bond? Or do I have to instruct you from the basics up?"

He swept off the thick glasses. His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Teach me anything you like, sweetheart. I'm a willing pupil, and a very quick study."

In spite of her annoyance, her skin tingled. "Stop the innuendoes!" she snapped. "This will be impossible if you don't behave. You'll get me fired!"

"Speaking of which, Trask said your vault teller quit." One dark brow arched. "Interesting timing."

"Carla?" she gasped. "Involved with murderers? Impossible."

"Nothing's impossible. Anything suspicious about her?"

She nibbled at her lower lip with her teeth. "She tried to talk