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button, and the red trunk opened behind her.
    “Thanks.” She tossed her sandals inside then reached for the tie on her dress.
    His heart slammed to a stop. “What the hell are you doing?”
    She looked up at him again and blinked. “I’m going to join that cruise.” Her head motioned to a boat loaded with people partying in bathing suits.
    He glanced at her outfit. Did she have a bathing suit on underneath? Her fingers tugged the tie, her dress opened, and she quickly slipped out of the green material.
    Son-of-a-bitch.
    His groin fisted tight, knocking the air from his lungs. She stood there in a matching lacey black bra and panties, a black garter circling her thigh, housing a gun.
    He swallowed, noting none of the detectives had said a word. Just stared unblinkingly at the woman. His gaze returned to the sexy NIO despite his attempt to look away. Shit, she was hot. He was never going to get this image out of his head. Every inch of him instantly remembered how incredible her delectable curves had been, soft and yielding as he drove deep and lost himself inside the hot temptation.
    She turned to the car, and he discovered two things. One, her panties didn’t cover much. His teeth sunk into his tongue. And two, he had been right. Her hair now covered the beauty mark…and bra strap, making it appear as if she only wore those damn lacey bottoms. He inhaled, released his tongue, and watched as she placed her dress on top of his duffle bag in the trunk. Her gun and garter followed before she twisted around to face them.
    “Okay, once I get Marek to shore, just remember…you don’t know me. And tell me to leave. Got it?”
    Hutchins and Wilson blinked, mouths slightly parted, still mesmerized by the curvy, half naked aide.
    Jersey nodded. “Got it.”
    Cage on the other hand, did not like it. What the hell was she going to do? His mind balked, and his annoyance returned.
    It didn’t matter. She wasn’t his concern.
    A moment later, Locke was sauntering down the sidewalk toward the dock, blending in with the bikini-clad crowd heading to the boat. Several local males, and a few women, stopped and risked a bout of whiplash as she strolled past. Cage suspected it had nothing to do with her attire and everything to do with her beauty. Damn woman was stunning.
    “Wow.” Hutchins inhaled.
    Jersey stepped closer to him and chuckled. “You, my friend, do not stand a chance.”
    Cage blinked at his new partner. Obviously, he hadn’t stood a chance before or she never would’ve left him for another man. Pain, sharp and long buried, rushed to the surface and squeezed his chest tight until breathing hurt.
    Dammit. He didn’t have time for emotional upheaval. He moved to the trunk, looked under her discarded clothes, refusing to think about her unclothed state as he searched for binoculars.
    Prochaska.
    That was who he needed to concentrate on. He fished the binoculars from the duffle bag in his trunk and straightened.
    “Got any for me?” Jersey glanced around the trunk.
    Cage thrust the ones in his hands to his partner and grabbed the second pair hiding under Locke’s dress. Without a word, he shut the trunk and strode back to the picnic table to get a better view. The others joined him and, for the next several minutes, they stood in the shade watching his ex-fiancée party with the bikini crowd until the boat neared the power yacht anchored in the distance.
    His hold tightened around the binoculars. He hated doing nothing. And his mind couldn’t equate the analyst he knew with the woman diving off the boat and swimming toward Prochaska. She was a sitting duck. Vulnerable. No weapons. No backup. He clenched his teeth, and when she approached the yacht, he stopped breathing all together.
    Two big, muscled bodyguards stared down at her, blocking her entrance to the deck as she pulled herself out of the water and stood dripping on the swimming platform.
    So damn sexy.
    “Ah, there’s our man, Marek,” Wilson