Only Her Undercover Spy - Cami Checketts Page 0,5
feel fear of being in the woods with an unknown man pursuing her? Was she simply too trusting, or was it confidence in her surroundings and the people she usually came in contact with? She’d had concern in her aqua-blue eyes when he’d stormed up to her in his suite and she’d pulled the toilet scrubber on him, but he’d been impressed by her bravery. He smiled at the memory.
When she saw it was him, she stopped walking and spun around. Putting a hand on her hip, she tossed her long curls and asked, “So you finally put your shirt on all the way?”
Devon grinned and glanced down at his shirt and tie. “I usually get dressed for the day, except when I check into a hotel after midnight and a beautiful housekeeper walks in on me at eight a.m.”
She smiled. “I’m truly sorry about that. We’ve got it in your file with an exclamation point now: ‘Do not attempt to clean this room, unless you want to get flashed by a beautiful chest!’” Her cheeks turned a becoming pink.
Devon crossed the distance to her, unable to hide his pleasure. “You think my chest is beautiful?” He barely resisted flexing.
She glanced over his chest before meeting his gaze. Her eyes were a most intriguing greenish blue framed by long eyelashes. “I don’t think I’ll answer that one,” she murmured. Turning, she started walking toward the main area, and Devon fell into step beside her. “Exploring the area?” she asked, glancing sidelong at him. “In business casual?”
He arched his eyebrows at her, but it occurred to him that his apparel choices might not be appropriate for blending in here in the mountains of Montana. He’d have to dig out the T-shirts and joggers. “It’s a beautiful area,” he said.
“Thank you,” she responded, as if she’d designed the mountains and the lake and all the greenery. “I love it here.”
“Have you lived here all of your life?” Devon was careful not to get invested in people, but something about this woman was drawing him in like nothing he’d ever felt.
“Yes.”
“You never left for college?”
She shook her head, not meeting his gaze. “I got my undergrad and master’s online. Couldn’t leave my grams.” She smiled at him, but she was hiding something.
“And now you work as a housekeeper or some kind of executive?” He was confused by the different roles he’d seen her in, but sadly, it wasn’t his business to figure out what she was hiding.
She let out a hearty chuckle, and it made his stomach fill with a longing to hear that sound every day of his life. He quickly tamped those wild and silly feelings down.
“I’m the hospitality manager,” she said. “My cousin and I are buying out our dads and brothers and taking over the Mystical Lake Resort from my grams.”
His eyebrows rose. “Impressive. Has Mystical Lake always been in your family?”
“Yes. The lodge was built in the fifties by my great-grandparents. My grams and pops renovated it completely less than ten years ago; then my pops went to heaven.”
They were passing the recreational area next to the lodge, where more children and teenagers were playing, whooping, and laughing. “And your dad and brothers?” he asked. He shouldn’t have. He was not only becoming more invested in her; he could tell she didn’t like the question. She hadn’t referenced her mother, so he hadn’t either. Was she alive?
“They’re off living their lives.” She forced a smile. “Excuse me. I’d better get back to work.”
“Wait, please.” He held out a hand. “What’s your name?”
Her smile became more genuine. “Iris Chadwick.” She extended her hand, and Devon wrapped his larger hand around hers. He felt a warmth and a connection that he knew were unique to Iris Chadwick. She was impressive, and she was drawing him in more surely than any woman he’d ever met.
“Pleasure to meet you, Iris Chadwick. I’m D—” Surprise rushed through him, and he broke off. He’d almost told her his real name. He couldn’t remember the last person he’d told his real name to.
“I know who you are.” She gave him a sweet smile as he held on to her hand for longer than was probably appropriate. “Chris Wilson. The guy in room twenty-eight who doesn’t want his toilet to smell fresh and clean.”
He chuckled, relieved she hadn’t noticed or called him on his slip. “I guess you would know me. Difficult customer and all of that.”
She laughed. “Definitely. It’s in your file.” Tugging her hand