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wet licks in all the right places. Harsh breaths punctuating the action of pumping bodies. Laughter. Always laughter at the back end of bliss. And then a refreshing shower that more often than not ended in another round.
    Cole opened her eyes. Those extracted memories made her body flush with desire and intimidated her more than a little. They felt real and fresh, like a morning rerun of a previous night’s sexual highlights. And her ex, standing right here before her, was at the center of every delicious aching moment of recall.
    She saw reflected in his expanding pupils the exact moment he realized the effect his nearness was having on her.
    Suddenly it wasn’t two years later but the day before ever after. Oh shit. She was still mad-bad attracted to the man whose pulse raced under her fingertips.
    Her hand clenched on his shirtfront and she lifted her face, lips parting in an invitation her brain hadn’t given her body permission to make.
    â€œNikki?” He sounded as surprised as she felt.
    Hugo’s vocal vibrations, so low they could barely be heard, were warning her of the danger of this close encounter with a man too potent for his own good.
    Cole lowered her lashes, trying to handle the yin-yang tug-of-war going on between her reason and her feelings. Yes, he was still as dangerous as ever. However, those enticing lips hovering just an inch above hers had also spoken the words that broke her heart. It was too good to be true to think they could just pick up—
    Wait! Something didn’t add up here.
    She stiff-armed his shoulder and with a flex of her hips launched herself away from the sink, and past him to safety.
    She didn’t go far before turning back. “Why me? Why did Agent Lattimore choose me?” Her voice sounded winded as she refused to look directly at him.
    Scott jutted a hip against the counter and folded his arms, ignoring the fact that— Shit. She’d nearly kissed him. He dragged in a breath instead of giving in to the urge to drag her back in against him and finish what she’d started. “You’re experienced with dog competitions.”
    â€œThat was a long time ago. Who recommended me to him?”
    â€œI did.” He could see the idea didn’t please her, though it didn’t show anywhere except in the tiny jiggle of her left foot.
    â€œWhy me?”
    He knew what she meant. She wanted to know why he wanted to work with her. He wanted any reason to be near her again. That truth would blow this operation all to hell. He opted for a lesser truth. “Let’s just say this operation is more important than the odds against us being a successful U/C team.”
    â€œWhat, exactly, do they want us to do?”
    â€œFollow a lead the DEA has developed that points to the dog-competition circuit as a major means of drug smuggling. We’re to get in close and gather more evidence.”
    She looked over at Hugo, who stood alert to every word they spoke. “We don’t have time to qualify for any kind of serious competition. That would take months.”
    â€œDEA will see to it that you have the credentials you need to make the cut.”
    â€œWhy not just hang out at the shows or use drug dogs to search behind the scenes until you turn up something?”
    â€œWe have a suspect and don’t want to spook her.”
    â€œHer?” She looked at him, finally. “Working the female-suspect angle is more in your line of undercover work, isn’t it?”
    Scott ignored the barb. “This is how it will go down. We pose as a couple. You’ll compete. That’ll give me cover to nose around with my K-9 partner without suspicion.”
    â€œYou work K-9 drug detail for DEA?” The surprise in her voice said it all. “Since when?”
    â€œA year. Her name’s Izzy. A chocolate Lab.” He smiled. “You’ll like her, Nikki.”
    â€œStop calling me that. Everyone calls me