Only Her Undercover Spy - Cami Checketts Page 0,2

their mothers.

He hung on to the door, looking like a poster she wanted to hang on her wall. She had all kinds of fantasies of what he would say to her. Maybe when he opened his mouth, he’d ask her to go on a hike or bike ride, go swim in the cool, clear mountain lake, go to dinner with him at one of the retreat’s exclusive restaurants, or walk down to town and get ice cream or a shaved ice.

“Will you please ask the hospitality manager to not send any more housekeepers to my suite?” His voice was still smoky, but the words were wrong.

“Oh, sure …” He had no way of knowing she was the hospitality manager. “I’ll let her know.” She forced a smile and shoved her cart down the hallway to the next room. Taking a steadying breath, she rapped her knuckles on the next door and called, “Housekeeping.” No response. She waited and waited and then passed her key card over the door and swung it open.

A chuckle from her right brought her head around before she could push her cart in. When she turned, the man was leaning out of his door and watching her, his shirt now buttoned up. Thank heavens. “I wish you better success in that room than in mine.” He winked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Iris flipped her long hair. “Your room was a lot of fun.”

He grinned and saluted her. “Too bad we can’t repeat the interaction tomorrow.”

She said sassily, “Too bad for you.”

The smolder in his blue eyes should’ve been illegal. “Yes,” he said, staring at her as if he were drinking her in. “Too bad for me.” Then he tilted his chin at her and disappeared back into his suite.

Iris forced herself to get back to work, but her brain was busy daydreaming about the man in the next suite over. My, oh my. She hoped she’d see him again this week.

Chapter Two

Devon Berkshire, aka Chris Wilson while on this job, smiled to himself as he knotted his tie and checked his hair in the mirror. The fit blonde housekeeper had him more stirred up than he’d allowed himself to get on a job, maybe ever. She was beautiful, interesting, and funny. Too bad he couldn’t request housekeeping every day with her as his maid. He glanced toward the closet, where his surveillance equipment was packed in a suitcase. No one could know why he was here at the Mystical Lake Resort, least of all a gorgeous housekeeper.

He usually tried to minimize any contact with locals while undercover, but the blond had been impossible to resist teasing with. The image of her holding a toilet brush aloft and telling him to get back was adorable. Luckily, she hadn’t seen his Glock in the rear waistband of his pants that his shirt now hid. She’d been too busy checking out his chest.

Striding from the room, he started a slow perusal of the massive hotel, which was situated on the edge of a clear mountain lake. It was picturesque, something you’d expect in Switzerland. He’d received the request for this job yesterday morning, and having just wrapped up an easy case in Little Rock, Arkansas, he thought a little mountain air sounded nice, especially as it was July and the heat and humidity in Arkansas had about choked him. He’d flown into Missoula last night and driven along deserted mountain roads in the dark, checking in after one in the morning and sleeping until almost eight—much later than he usually would allow, but his target wasn’t even here yet. Now, as he walked out onto the large open patio hanging over the lake and took in the mountain view, he felt like he could breathe. It was all so fresh and beautiful and clean, it reminded him of the appealing blonde.

He’d traveled to many countries and most of the states, but the Rocky Mountains were hard to beat. When his bank account reached that elusive fifty million, he’d come buy one of the cabins nestled along the bank of a lake like this one, fish and hike and … probably go stir-crazy. That day was more than a few years off, so he didn’t need to worry about it too much.

He wandered to the edge of the patio. Bending down, he trailed his fingers through the water. Chilly, but it’d be fun to jump into on a warm summer’s day. He doubted it ever got muggy hot at this high