"Hey, boss, I'm done. How about you?" Gabe leaned on the door frame, untouched by their miserable chore. His tacky polyester suit had shed water as efficiently as armor, and only a hint of dampness glistened in his short, dark hair.
"Not even close. Go find a chair in the lobby and relax."
He glanced at his watch. "It's after eighteen hundred. I know for a fact you skipped both breaks and your lunch today."
"So did you, even though I told you to go."
"What's good for the boss is good enough for me." He strolled into the room. Propping one hip on the corner of her desk as if he belonged there, he plunked his nerd glasses in her inbox, then removed his fake buckteeth. Thank goodness he didn't put those in her inbox, but stowed them in his baby-blue jacket.
His gaze swept over her, and his eyes darkened. "You should always wear your hair loose." A slow, sensual smile curved his lips. He reached out and snagged a stray curl, winding the lock of hair around his finger. "Very quick thinking on that fire alarm this morning. I think I'll keep you on the team."
She frowned at him until he dropped his hand. "I plan to resign from the team as soon as possible. I hope you got everything you needed. My blood pressure can't handle another spy mission upstairs."
"Aww, come on. Didn't you have a little fun?" He grinned. "There's nothing like a good old-fashioned adrenaline rush for a great high. And that was merely an itty-bitty tingle."
Tessa slumped, resting her forehead in her hands. "Go amuse yourself for a couple of hours, Mr. Adventure. I have work to finish." Her hands slid around to rub the back of her aching neck. "I know," she jerked open her desk drawer, and handed him Trask's vault log file. "Return this upstairs."
He dropped the folder on her desk. "And leave you all alone? Nuh-uh. Besides, you know what they say." He moved to her side, sinking down on the carpet cross-legged. "All work and no play makes Tessie cranky." He pushed her chair back and grasped one bare ankle in his strong hand.
She gasped at the contact. "What are you doing?"
"You think you can sneak in here with nekkid feet unnoticed?" Heat crept up her neck, and he barked out a laugh. He lifted her foot into his lap and massaged her sore, tired muscles. "You're exhausted, and so tense, you could open a can of cola with your buns."
"Charmingly eloquent as always." She tried to yank her foot from his grip, but he held firm. "Stop that!"
His nimble fingers gently kneaded an extra-sensitive spot. Her tight muscles softened like a Hershey bar in July. Warm, soothing contentment spread through her foot to her leg, and flowed up her spine. She moaned and went limp.
"Hmm. Are you sure you want me to stop?" His thumbs rubbed her instep in tiny circles, exerting exquisite pressure.
Her eyes drifted closed, and she melted into the chair. "I don't like you, Mr. Bond," she murmured.
"I know, sweetheart." He chuckled. "Don't blame you. I'm despicable."
Adrift in a warm glow of pleasure, she slowly nodded. "And an oversexed gorilla."
"Duly noted."
As he continued his soothing strokes, her tension evaporated, and she floated away in a peaceful daze.
"Ms. Beaumont!" Trask's booming voice echoed from the lobby.
She jerked upright. Her panicked gaze shot to Gabe. "My boss!" she whispered. "If he sees you, me, like this—"
Gabe touched a finger to his lips. "My lips are sealed." He tossed her a mischievous grin before scooting under her desk. He pulled her chair into place as Trask entered the office.
She took a deep breath and pasted on a smile. "Good evening. This is a surprise."
Her boss dropped into the seat opposite her and slapped a stack of papers onto the desktop. "With my vacation coming up, I want the employee reviews done early."
She glanced down at the papers, and a cold chill skittered over her skin. Like a neon arrow of guilt, the vault log file she'd stolen from his office loomed on the desktop in plain view. Holding her breath, she nudged the folder to one side with her elbow and slipped the ATM report on top.
He picked up the first page in his stack. "The kiosk ATM?"
Under the desk, the tip of one callused finger tickled the sole of her right foot. Her toes curled. "Still causing headaches on a regular basis."