Transfixed, he fisted his hands, and clenched his jaw.
He was going to stop this. Right now. Except who could move with a boner the size of Catalina?
Shake it off, Mancuso.
How could he, when such a glorious sight met his eyes? Right, that was nothing but an excuse. He hated what he was doing. Totally disgusted with his caveman behavior. And yet, he still did not move.
He was caught off guard. Knocked for a loop. Who would have expected the woman to strip off all her clothes and jump into the lotus position without any warning? He was just too rattled to even blink or much less take a step back from the telescope.
Neanderthal. Troglodyte. Ape.
Yeah calling himself names, would work, he thought sarcastically. His balls ached. His heart thudded. His toes curled inside his boots anchored on the faux hardwood floors of the rented apartment in San Diego. His eyes were practically bugging out of their sockets as he watched the oh-so-perky Ms. St. George do something with her body he hadn’t thought humanly possible.
Her skin glistened with perspiration, her adorable blonde ponytail swishing as she moved. Hi ho, Silver, he thought and licked his lips gone Sahara desert dry. Man alive, it was hot in here, never mind the open window bringing in the smell of the Pacific Ocean breeze and rustling the curtains.
Here she was stretching and bending and twisting, naked as the day she was born, without a clue that she was being watched. She thought she was safe in her own home, protected from prying eyes. Free to express herself with that body bestowed by the gods. She had no idea that she was under scrutiny by the U.S. Navy.
That thought got through to him when nothing else had. He could not afford to forget why he was here or whom he represented.
Then she turned and he spotted something on her left shoulder that seemed to flitter in the flickering light from the candles she’d lighted before starting her erotic exercise. Something silvery and blue. He fiddled with the focus, honing in on it.
A tattoo.
Of a handsome blue and silver butterfly, wings unfurling.
He should have figured. Everything in her dossier pointed to a free-spirited, wild child. She was Adam’s polar opposite in every way. According to her file, she’d grown up without a father and trailing her nomadic, hair stylist mother from town to town. Adam had been raised as the oldest of three kids in a stable, traditional military family that set the bar high on moral, ethical conduct.
And yet, here you are staring at a naked woman through a telescope.
She stretched to the side, giving him a perfect view of the butterfly. Body art had never turned him on before, but something about that tattoo on this woman stirred an unexpected reaction inside him.
Sweat broke out on his brow and he sank his top teeth into his bottom lip, suppressing a groan.
She dropped like silk panties to the floor, pressing her belly down flat on the yoga matt stretched over glossy, cherry hardwood floors, while at the same time angling her luscious butt in the air.
Holy crap! What was this new pose? The erection that had already been straining against his zipper tightened and grew. His blood ran red-hot through his veins and his breath shot out in quick, hard rasps.
The bottom of her long blonde ponytail grazed the middle of her back just above where her sexy little waist tucked inward. She arched her spine; shifting her position again, putting that impressive little fanny right in his face.
His throat constricted. The muscles of her sweet ass were tightly defined but at the same time utterly feminine. His gaze tracked from the curvy rump to where it joined her lithe thighs that tapered down into long shapely legs. Her peachy skin glistened with the glossy sheen of exertion. Adam wanted to touch her so badly his hands shook. A woman like that could lead a good man straight to hell with a big smile on his face.
Gotta stop this. Gotta stop this now.
Otherwise he was going to unzip his pants and do what came naturally.
No. No way. No how. He was known throughout the ONI for his self-control. He wasn’t about to jack-off over the woman he’d been hired to keep under surveillance. That would be unethical and sleazy and…and…
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, straightened and finally stepped back from the telescope. He paced the floor, ran a hand through his hair, and took several deep breaths to calm his soaring temperature.
If she was going to put on that kind of floorshow every night Adam didn’t know if he’d survive this assignment. Maybe he could ask Rogers to take the night shift—
No!
The minute the thought entered his mind he squelched it. The only thing worse than having to watch her nude yoga routine was the thought of his partner watching her. Never mind that Tim Rogers had just gotten married and was madly in love with his new bride. Adam didn’t want the other Naval Intelligence officer ogling Eva.
And why the hell was that?
Adam surely didn’t know. It was a strange, possessive feeling gnawing at his gut. He didn’t want anyone seeing her naked but him.
The door to the apartment opened and Adam jumped in front of the telescope, arms behind his back, guilt nibbling at the nape of his neck. Tim Rogers came through the door carrying a greasy white paper back that smelled of sautéed onions and two Styrofoam drink cups cradled against his body.
Rogers shot him a glance. “How’s the peepshow?”
“P…peepshow?” Adam stammered and felt the top of his ears burn.
“Don’t get offended. I know you’re Mr. Straight Arrow,” his partner said, clearly misreading Adam’s embarrassment as disapproval. “But come on, we are playing peep-eye with a beautiful woman. Sooner or later, we’re going to see her partially dressed if not completely naked.” His grin widened. “Perks of the job.”
You have no idea, Adam thought, the image of Eva’s sexy bare body vividly fresh in his mind.
“Have you told Lisa about our assignment?” Adam asked, shifting the conversation off the woman next door and onto Rogers.
“Do I look like a crazy man?” Rogers chuckled. “I told her I couldn’t discuss the case, which is true.” He rifled through the sack, pulled out a Styrofoam container. “Here’s your rabbit food.”
Rogers shoved the container into Adam’s hand, and then went back to the sack to retrieve a hamburger dripping with grease.
Adam shook his head, reached for a plastic fork to dig into his garden salad with low-cal dressing. "How do you eat that stuff?"
Rogers sank his teeth into the burger. "With relish." He held up a French fry. "Wanna bite? I'll share."
"No thanks." Adam had given up eating fast food a long time ago. A disciplined man controlled himself in the face of temptation. No matter how delicious.
And then he thought of Eva St. George again. Talk about temptation of a wholly different kind.
"So," Rogers said, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. "What do you think we did we do to piss off the-powers-that-be to get stuck this assignment?"
"What do you mean?" Adam frowned.
"This is just lame babysitting duty. I mean, c’mon if you were Barksdale would you come dragging back to your ex-girlfriend if you'd stolen military secrets? Me? I’d get the hell out of country ASAP."
Keith Barksdale had been a civilian ONI intelligence analyst in Suitland, Maryland where Adam was currently stationed. Adam knew exactly why he’d been given assignment. He’d been working on the sensitive top-secret data when Barksdale had stolen it. Even though he’d followed every security protocol to the letter, Barksdale had somehow gained access to a high-level security clearance. The sneak thief had taken it right out from under everyone's noses and the Navy was highly embarrassed.
"They're just covering all the options," Adam said mildly. “At least we didn’t get the chore of staking out Barksdale’s grandmother in her Iowa nursing home.”
Rogers gave an exaggerated shudder. "Yeah, you got a point. But how come we didn't get a more active assignment, like going after Barksdale himself?"
"This is an active assignment."
"Uh-huh." Rogers took a long swing from his drink. "Keep telling yourself that. Higgins put his glory boy Kilgore on it,” he said, referring to their commander and their nemesis Miles Kilgore who seemed to get all the plumb assignments.
"Higgins called it as he saw fit,” Adam replied. “Barksdale could very well contact Ms. St. George. We've got the heat on him hard. He'll have trouble getting out of the country or even finding a safe house. It’s natural to assume he might turn to her for help."
“Would you go to your ex-girlfriend if you were in trouble?”
Adam thought about Kirsten, the woman he’d almost married. They’d been so much alike. She was dutiful, dedicated, calm and controlled. It was that self-control that had torpedoed their relationship. She’d broken things off after three years, telling him she needed someone who stirred her passion. That had been a kick in the teeth.
Adam winced at the memory. It would be difficult, but sure, yeah, if he were in trouble he’d go to Kirsten. They might not have had a passion, but they’d had mutual respect and admiration for each other. He shrugged. “Depends on the girlfriend I suppose.”
"You don't think Barksdale is smart enough to figure out that we’d have all his family and friends under surveillance? The assignment's lame and you know it. In the meantime, I’m a newlywed stuck half-way across the country from my bride.”
“Comes with the territory.” Adam gave him no sympathy. “You knew what you were getting into when you joined the military.” Duty to country often came before family. It was the nature of the beast.
"Well," Rogers's said, crumpling up the paper bag and tossing it in the trashcan. "I'm hitting the sack. Have a good night."
They ran two surveillances shifts. Rogers kept watch from seven a.m. to seven p.m. Adam had drawn the short straw and pulled the nightshift. Now that he saw what Eva did with her late evenings, he was glad.
Rogers yawned, stretched and ambled toward the back of the two-bedroom apartment. The place was barely furnished. The small dining area held two camp chairs and a folding table. In the living room there was a couch and their surveillance equipment—wires, cameras, cords, telescopes, recorders and listening devices. In the bedrooms, mattresses lay on the floor.
They were stuck here until the assignment was over. How long it lasted depended on how long it took the ONI to apprehend Keith Barksdale. Unless, something more pressing happened and the brass decided it wasn't worth the money or manpower keeping tabs on Eva St. George.
After Rogers had retired for the night, Adam went back to the telescope, but Eva was no longer in her living room. He moved to the listening device that he and Rogers had set up in her bedroom that morning while she'd been at her yoga studio. They’d gained access through the superintendent by posing as pest exterminators hired by the owner of the apartment complex.
Adam could hear the shower running. It sounded as if Eva was cleaning up after her workout. Disappointment settled over him and he realized he'd been hoping to see her naked again.
"Pervert," he chastised himself.
He listened into the night. Heard the water shut off, the sounds of a blow drier, and then the padding of bare feet. Through the window he saw the light in her bedroom wink out, heard the creaking of a mattress. He imagined her sinking that slinky body of hers under the sheets and a rush of heat spread through his abdomen.
Dammit. This had to stop. He had to find a way to turn off his desires. Otherwise he didn't know how long he could stay honorable.
And Adam Mancuso was nothing if not an honorable man.
