She still had the same self-confidence and style that she’d had when they’d first met. It had attracted him then, and it attracted him now.
The realization that he still had a strong yen for Bailey Montgomery had struck him full force last night at the Blue Pepper. He’d figured the time that had passed and the fact that he hadn’t seen her in so long would have taken care of it. But from the moment he’d spotted her in the bar, the attraction had been powerful and electric, just like before. Sooner or later, he was going to have to give that some thought.
Right now, he’d better concentrate on the job. Grabbing his paper off the seat, he drew it up to block her view of his face as she turned from depositing a package in her car and strode down the sidewalk in his direction. Directly across from where he was parked, she took a quick right turn into another store. A swift glance told him it sold women’s undergarments—the kind designed to destroy a man’s brain cells.
His gaze lingered on the frothy bits of lace and silk on display in the window. Though he’d never given much thought to what Bailey Montgomery wore beneath those neatly tailored suits, he did now.
Through the window, he watched her select a handful of creamy-colored lace and walk to the back of the store. To a dressing room, he supposed. That was all the stimulation his imagination needed to slip into a fantasy. He might have put some effort into stifling it, but what the hell. Tailing people had some very dull moments. A man had to keep his mind occupied somehow.
Leaning back against the seat, Gage cleared his mind and pictured Bailey Montgomery slipping out of her jacket and draping it over the back of a chair. Next came the belt. He pictured her unbuckling it and drawing it slowly out of the loops. Her hands, with those long, slender fingers, would deal with the buttons and then the zipper. A pleasant warmth stole through him as he imagined her lowering the zipper, inch by inch. The slacks slid into a pool around her feet.
One look at those long, slender legs made Gage’s mouth water, and heat flooded his body. When her fingers began to unfasten her blouse, his blood began to hammer in a rhythm that picked up speed as each button slipped free.
Finally, the blue silk joined the slacks at her feet. Now all she wore was a wispy black lace bra and panties.
His mouth went dry as he absorbed the contrast of black lace and skin the color of alabaster. It would feel smooth as glass, soft as rose petals. A man would give up a lot to get his hands on it. To explore it slowly and mold every inch of it.
He could even smell her now. It was the same elusive scent she’d had all those years ago—something exotic and unexpected, like a flower one might come upon in a steamy, hot jungle.
“Put your hands on the wheel and keep them there.”
The clipped, no-nonsense tone snapped him back from his erotic fantasy, and he swiveled his head to stare at a fully clothed Bailey Montgomery. She had a small revolver pointed at him.
“I’ll use it. Put your hands on the steering wheel, Sinclair,” Bailey repeated as she used her free hand to release the lock and open the passenger door.
That was the trouble with fantasies, Gage thought. There was always a price to pay. If he hadn’t been so distracted by her he would have known just what she was doing. And he had to hand it to her, it was a very skillful maneuver. She’d led him here so she could get his license plate and get a trace run on it. Then she’d made her move.
He sent her a slow, admiring and, he hoped, charming smile. “You’re not going to pull that trigger on the man who recruited you and trained you.”
Her brows shot up. “Want to bet? And don’t forget, you’re the one who drilled me on how to cover up a hit and make it look like an accident.”
Gage sighed. “Something or other in my past is always coming back to bite me in the butt.”
“I want to know why you’re following me.”
“I want to know what you were doing at the Blue Pepper last night. Why don’t you get in and we’ll trade information?”
With a quick nod, she settled herself in the seat beside him, then said, “You first. Why are you following me?”
“Since I have to keep my hands on the wheel, how about I drive to a place I know and I buy you lunch while we talk.”
“And why would I want to do that?” she asked.
“Because it’s damned hot in this car, and I’m hungry. Plus, I’m likely to be more cooperative with a full stomach.”
She regarded him steadily.
“C’mon, Agent Montgomery. For old times’ sake. What do you say?”
Bailey hesitated for only one more moment. “I choose the place and you pick up the tab.”