Chapter Thirty-Two
They ordered breakfast in bed and spent the morning under the covers, with a laptop perched on the nightstand next to half-finished plates of pastries and mugs of coffee.
Amanda hadn’t completely slacked off of work.
To be honest, she didn’t feel any guilt at all, though she waited for it to show up between bites of Lebanese French pastries and rounds of lovemaking like they were newlyweds.
Draped over Hagan’s chest, she wondered if this was balance.
Work. Life. She wasn’t sure, because her life revolved around work.
Hagan traced the indentation where her backside met her leg, unhurried and at ease.
She noticed the distinct smoothness of the wedding band around his ring finger whenever his palm flattened on her ass.
Of all the things to notice, that one seemed impossibly trivial, yet profoundly intimate. It was as though she’d stumbled onto a secret of married couples. Wearing rings while undercover had never connected her to a partner until Hagan had made her step out from the routine of her life.
His hand stilled. “We should get up.”
“It’s your turn to be the voice of reason?” She repositioned her cheek on his pec and let her hand slide along the muscles that covered his ribs.
His laughter rumbled against her ear. “Guess so.”
Amanda gave him a quick kiss and rolled off his body. “What table games do you like?”
“None of them.” The mattress shifted when Hagan threw his legs over and sat on the side of the bed.
“I thought you liked puzzles.”
“I do.” He stretched, then walked toward the bathroom. “Puzzles always have an answer. Gambling is a losing race against odds.”
She’d never compared the two before but agreed. “Puzzles are fixed.”
With a toothbrush in his mouth, he brushed naked as a blue jay and mumbled, “Yup.” He held up a finger, went into the bathroom to rinse his mouth, and came back easier to understand. “The end point’s always good, like the happily-ever-after in a fairytale.”
“You’re blowing my mind a wee bit.”
He laughed and shuffled through his luggage. “I’ll try to make that a habit.”
“Please.” She grinned but was still thinking about gambling and puzzles and the role each played in her life.
Hagan threw his clothes onto the bed and picked up his phone. He scrolled and read and scrolled again, finally tossing the phone onto the mattress. “Do you want to get in the shower first?”
He’d processed emails or the daily news, and she still hadn’t moved on from what he’d said.
They were surrounded by puzzles and gambles.
Some were easy answers. Others offered satisfaction.
Whether she wanted to get into the shower first would either be yes or no—a fifty-fifty shot like flipping a coin with no discernable risk.
Still, he’d lost complete control the moment he’d asked when she wanted to shower.
She hadn’t had enough coffee or sex to make sense of how this applied to her life—or maybe she’d had too much. Either way, it was clear that she’d drastically changed the way she lived, subconsciously betting against the odds—and herself. Amanda beelined for the bathroom. “I’ll jump in first.”
She busied herself, not sure if she wanted to find clarity or clear her thoughts. The shower warmed as she brushed her teeth. Steam shaded her reflection in the mirror, and Amanda stepped into the water, comb in hand, working the bedhead knots out of her hair.
Was she a puzzle or a gamble? A definite answer didn’t come to mind, but she clearly played the odds in the way she lived. Amanda didn’t want a high-stakes score. But she was certain that catastrophe was only one move away.
The hot water rained over her as she reached for a bottle and shampooed her hair. What about Hagan? Was he either a puzzle or gamble, and did he live life that same way?
Thick, soapy bubbles slid off her shoulders, landing on her feet.
Amanda stepped under the spray. The shampoo suds sluiced down her arms, and she lathered a washcloth and massaged her skin.
Squeaky clean and in no rush, she decided Hagan was neither.
She wouldn’t box him in the way she boxed in everything else.
Amanda twisted the temperature knob and waited until the water felt as if it had been pumped from the arctic.
Freezing water didn’t offer clarity, and she jumped out.
With a towel hastily wrapped around her breasts, she searched the hazy mirror and swiped the steam away until her reflection appeared.
“You’re a gambler.” She studied her image and ignored the remnants of mascara.
“You might need help.” What did people say?
Knowing the problem was half the battle?
That was why she was in Lebanon, after all.
Or had she gone cold turkey? Meeting Hagan.
Falling for him, too. She’d grown close to someone, breaking every rule.
Did that mean she’d stopped gambling, or unwittingly come to accept higher risk?
Amanda rubbed her temples. How had she not realized that odds dictated her life? At least until Hagan had shown up and changed the damn game. Or had he clarified the terms?
Hagan knocked on the door. “Your phone’s been blowing up.”
She blinked to clear her head. Instead of shaking away her thoughts, she’d seen everything with more clarity. “Thanks. I’ll be out in a second.”
Amanda refastened the towel around her chest and wrapped another around her hair. She knew the caller had been Halle. Shah would’ve texted, and if her parents had called, they’d only have had the time and patience to reach out once.
Hagan stepped into the bathroom as she came out. “Must have been quite the shower.”
She looked at him curiously. “Hm?”
He hooked a towel near the shower and twisted the knob. “You’ve got a little skip to your step.”
She felt that way, too. The corners of her lips quirked. “It’s been quite the morning.”
Hagan managed to shower and dress before Amanda had blown out her hair. While she put the finishing touches of her outfit together, he mapped out where they would go from the list of items she needed to review.
They played baccarat and blackjack, then took a break near the cashier’s booth.
She and Hagan split up before lunch, studying shift changes and the behavior patterns of dealers, bosses, and floor managers.
They reconnected with mental lists of what might need a second glance.
They weren’t on the premises to uncover the mechanics behind the crime.
They only needed to spot areas that needed thorough mining for data.
Intel forensics always led Amanda the right way.
After a quick meal of overstuffed pitas, they swung through the business hub of hotel operation. Amanda hadn’t seen anything unusual, and that in and of itself piqued her curiosity. That, and a peculiar feeling that someone was watching her.
Obviously, someone was watching her, and likely Hagan also.
Even if their behavior hadn’t triggered a security system’s red flag, there were hundreds of cameras and sensors tracking everyone within the building.
She’d get the specifics from Mr. Nasrallah once she and Halle had a good idea what they needed.
They played craps and roulette. Amanda couldn’t shake the shivers. But her stomach growled as well, and if she was ready for dinner, Hagan was starving.
Only slots remained on their list, and luckily, they wouldn’t have to play. There were too many variables with row after row of blinking, singing machines that promised quick payouts. The gaming commission would have specifications that she could reference when cross-checking for problems.
Amanda leaned into his side, tired and ready to take her shoes off. “I’m ready when you are.”
“You sure?”
She nodded and laced her fingers with his. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Always.” He snickered. “But you look like a bloodhound on a trail.”
Hagan had noticed her reaction, not the sense of a tail. She didn’t like the way that felt. What did it mean if this uneasy sensation that still needled her was wrong? She’d done nothing different except loosen the hold on the rules and contracts she lived by.
It’d be ridiculous to think that spending time with Hagan had dulled her abilities … right? Her hand pressed against the bottom of her throat. Rules allowed for her safety. They protected the ones she cared for—like Hagan. “I think I need to go to the room before dinner.”
“Amanda—” He caught her arm and pulled them from the busy flow of people. “You okay? You’re a little pale.”
“Low blood sugar.” Paranoia made her suspicious. She tried to focus on Hagan but couldn’t stop searching those who walked by. “I think I screwed up.”
“How?”
“I …” She shook her head, not knowing and terrified of losing control. “I just want to lie down for a few minutes.”
His jaw ticked, and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “No problem.”
Simply walking toward the elevators was a relief. She’d confide in Hagan upstairs. It wouldn’t be easy. Hell, it’d be embarrassing. But she’d made decisions that had repercussions, one of which meant she’d have to ask for help.