Page 22 of Covert Temptation

He slowly pivoted to look at her again. “It’s hard to ignore ankle boots with three-inch heels tapping on the floor.”

Her full lips twitched at one corner, drawing his attention to the gloss swept over her bottom lip. “I’m impressed you know that.”

He snorted.

She looked past him at the screen. “Can I at least help with something?”

He opened the desk drawer and pulled out a stack of takeout menus.

With an extremely suspicious look, she drifted forward and took them from him. As soon as her gaze lit on the menus, she brightened.

“You’re telling me there are actually restaurants around here?”

“Not down the block, but yeah.”

She waved the menus. “This isn’t work, Dante.”

When she spoke his name in that husky voice, with those plump, glossy lips, his gut dipped. Now that she stood closer, he could see her skin had a natural glow like one of those models on a magazine cover, only they were photoshopped.

She probably has expensive spa treatments to go with her designer heels.

He filled his lungs with enough air to settle his rapid pulse. “You did a lot of pacing. I figure you probably worked up an appetite. I have to feed you before you get hangry.”

He knew how hangry girls could get. His little sister was a monster when she missed a meal.

Inwardly, he winced. Every single day he tried not to think about his siblings. Some days he succeeded—today he didn’t.

He faced his computer again.

Kennedy didn’t respond buttap-tappedher way to the sofa and set her mug on the old coffee table. “What kind of food do you like?”

“Order whatever you want, Kennedy.”

“I want pizza,” she said at once, as though she’d been thinking about her answer for a week instead of thirty seconds. “Disgustingly greasy pizza with all the toppings and thick crust.”

His fingers had been hovering over the keyboard, but now they twitched into fists. “Pizza?”

“Is that a problem for you?”

He gave up trying to work and pushed away from the desk to get more coffee. “I didn’t picture you as the junk food type.”

She gave him a look that would stir the toughest man on earth. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had pizza?”

Her words stirred something else—a twinge of guilt. On the Charlie base, the team could fire up their outdoor brick oven and make homemade pizza whenever the craving hit.

She leafed through the menus and settled on a page. “I can’t believe it. This place is open late and they have pizza!”

His lips quirked at her obvious joy.

“Deep dish, extra cheese and all the toppings,” she declared. “A double order so we can eat it for midnight snacks. And dessert.”

“There’s a budget, Kennedy.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s the government’s card.”

He grunted. “Not a play money card.”

She rolled her eyes. “I worked for an ambassador. I know all aboutthosebudgets.”

---