Nate leaned against the wall of the storage closet. A black bag sat at his feet, and he kept his eyes on the door. He wasn't disappointed. A few minutes later, a dark-haired woman slipped into the small room.
"Sophie." He smiled when she whirled around and glared at him. "Fancy seeing you here."
"How long have you been waiting on me?" She crossed the room and grabbed the bag, gaining back some of her normal composure. "And, how did you figure out that I might have another identity?"
"I thought that it was highly unlikely that you would be stealing art as a duchess. Too high-profile." He scuffed his shoe against the floor. "Care to share what you're planning?"
She smirked at him and gathered her hair into a side ponytail. "And ruin the fun of the game? Not a chance. Have you even figured out what I'm after?"
"I have a few ideas."
"Going to share them with the class?"
"What do you think?"
She shrugged. "Fair enough." Turning around, she presented her back to him. When he stared at her, she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Come on, Nate, if you're going to insist on bothering me, the least you can do is be useful."
He eyed her back. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Unzip me?"
He reached forward with tentative hands and grasped the fabric. Her skin was silky underneath his knuckles, and he grasped the zipper, pulling it down a little. She turned her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye, her breath coming a little quicker. He tugged some more on the zipper, and she stepped out of his reach.
He was gazing at her with eyes that were darker than before, his pupils a little dilated. A few thoughts passed through her mind, the majority of them involving him pushing her against the wall and kissing her senseless. She shook her head as her eyes flickered downwards to focus on his wedding band.
She reached back down for the bag, holding her dress up with her free hand. "How are Maggie and Sam?"
It was like a bucket of cold water had been tossed on him; he blinked and followed her path across the room. "They're fine. Why?"
"I think we've established that we're at the very least acquaintances. Am I not allowed to inquire about your family?" She pulled out a white lab coat and black flats.
"I guess not," he replied slowly.
She met his gaze and huffed, motioning for him to turn around. It wasn't that she cared if he saw her change; it would just severely damage this game they had been playing, and as long as he was married, she had no intention of going past innocent flirting (maybe things got a little more than innocent at times, but she wasn't perfect, and he hadn't been protesting). He turned his back on her, and she let the dress drop to the floor, stepping out of it and her heels, the floor cool against her bare feet. She flushed a little when she glanced at him, but she pulled on the coat and slipped on her flats.
"I'm done."
He turned around slowly, not putting it past her to give him permission to see a little more skin than he should. Luckily, though, she apparently thought that the earlier incident was enough. Then, when he actually looked at her, he realized that she wasn't wearing anything under the lab coat. Any handle he had on the situation was gone.
He couldn't quite keep the smirk off his face. "You're posing as a doctor now?"
"Of sorts." She gave him a wicked grin. "I have to give to work, Mr. Ford. Isn't there something you're supposed to be doing?"
He didn't like her having the upper hand, so he took a few steps forward, effectively pushing her back towards the wall. "I think arresting a thief is high on my priority list."
"Just one problem with that plan," she breathed out; he was so close, and her body was straining against her will to touch him.
"What would that be?" He couldn't help it. He reached out and trailed a finger down her arm and watched as she shivered, her eyes fluttering closed (if he could do that with a single touch, he hated to think about what she would do if they ever did end up in bed together).
She licked her lips and looked up at him. "You can't prove anything. Now, may I go?"
She didn't want to leave; she quite liked that he was close enough to wrap her arms around and pull him into a kiss. However, she knew the smart thing was to walk out that door and forget about the fact that his blue eyes were so dark in the dim room, and he had to be thinking about pinning her to the wall and taking what he wanted. His hand closed down on her wrist, right over the pulse point, and she had to fight against the shuddering breath that almost rushed past her lips. It wasn't fair that he could affect her like this.
"Have a pleasant evening, then, Miss Devereaux," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "Until we meet again."
"Always," she whispered in answer.
She slipped past him, not making an effort to brush against him, but not stopping herself either when she did. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him clench his fist, and she smiled as she let herself out of the storage closet. He took a few more minutes after she left to compose himself. He looked down at the floor and saw that she had discarded her pink dress like so much trash. He shook his head and shoved it back into the black bag. No matter how much he tried, it would be a long time before he would forget about her in that dress.