The Survivor - Cristin Harber Page 0,48
of the rings. “Better?”
“People would say so.”
She’d never wanted him to kiss her so much before. “That’s what we’re doing. Convincing people.”
He lifted her from the chair and set her on the edge of the massive war room table. “We don’t need rings to convince people.”
As though they hadn’t sparred with Jared or didn’t have secrets that should keep them apart, Hagan pulled her ass to the edge of the table, wrapping her legs around his. His mouth took hers. They didn’t have to prove anything to the world. People could see what she could feel, him hot on her body, hungry for her mouth. Her locking her arms over his broad shoulders, clinging to his corded neck.
She worried they’d get caught until his tongue parted her lips. Then Amanda did nothing except pray for more. Hagan nibbled, kissed, and rubbed against her. Her hands clawed into his hair, knowing there had to be a hundred cameras in the room and wishing every single one would lose their connection. She wanted to feel Hagan’s skin. She needed his weight to cage her to the table.
“Hello,” Angela called as she opened the door, then retreated. “When you have a minute…”
Hagan smiled against Amanda’s mouth, and if the urge to hide and die of embarrassment had surfaced, his quiet laughter kept it away.
“Busted,” he whispered, then softly kissed her one more time. Hagan waited until Amanda had thrown herself into the chair, attempting to look like she hadn’t been begging Hagan to jump her on the table. He kissed her one more time, still smiling. “We have a minute.”
Angela swooped into the room, looking everywhere but at them. “Jared had a question for you.”
“Then Jared could’ve come down instead of sending you.” Hagan sat next to Amanda and crossed his arms over his chest. “Or Jared could’ve picked up the phone and called.”
Angela grimaced as though she’d figured out why Jared had done neither. “Your plane tickets.”
Amanda grabbed the folder that Angela slid over. “These are for today?”
“Yes.” Angela nodded. “Halle said that would work with your schedule.”
Hagan eyed the tickets and checked his watch. “Wheels up in less than six hours.”
“Please touch base with Jared before you go.” She reached for the door. “He said something about staying looped in on this job. I think he just wants to know how your day is going.”
Amanda understood that Boss Man still wasn’t comfortable with any of the liberties she’d taken. “We can do that—”
Hagan rocked in the chair. “The day that Jared cares about my day is the day that grenades learn to toss themselves while I drink a cold-ass beer.”
Or not … They weren’t going to get out of the building as easily as she’d thought.
“Hagan.” Angela had the kind of smile that appeared perfect, but underneath screamed for compliance. And for Hagan to shut up. Amanda could tell that this wasn’t the first time she’d used it on him or his teammates. “What do you want me to tell him then?”
Hagan scooped the boxes, briefing, and tickets into one hand and grabbed Amanda with the other. “Tell him my day’s going great, but I had to catch a plane.”
He ignored Angela’s incredulous glare and sauntered across the room, with Amanda promising she’d touch base soon.
“You know that won’t work,” Angela called as they passed her and walked down the hallway.
Amanda squeezed his hand. “We don’t need to irritate Jared more than we already have.”
He winked then looked over his shoulder. “Tell Boss Man I grabbed my new wife and will check in from the honeymoon sometime after I land.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Casino de Gemmayzeh was everything that Imad Nasrallah had promised—beautiful and busy. The ambiance welcomed Amanda and Hagan as newlyweds as much as it did high-rolling casino whales. A bellhop had whisked their luggage from sight as soon as they’d arrived, and if she didn’t look carefully, it’d be hard to tell that anyone ever left the hotel.
Hagan rested his hand on the small of her back. A firework of prickles ran up her spine. He was playing a role, but he’d touched her like this before, nonchalantly telling the world that he had a claim on her. Color warmed her cheeks, ensuring that onlookers would see that just-married connection. She played her part, touching him as if they’d known each other for years. Except, she wasn’t acting. Unlike any time where she played this role, Amanda didn’t have a mental list of action items. Smile. Gaze. Touch. Everything with Hagan