"Wow," Lisbon said, stopping dead in the entrance to the hotel lobby, its decor all marble, mohagany, and gold, with a massive chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling. "This place is fancy."
"If you're going to sell human beings to sleazeballs for a living, I suppose it only makes sense to sell them to the richest sleazeballs you can find," Jane remarked. "Come on. Let's check in."
An austere man with graying hair greeted them from behind the desk when they approached the reception desk and told him they wanted to check in. "Mr. and Mrs. Connor, welcome. We've been expecting you. My name is Arthur Rutherford. I'm the hotel manager. You'll be staying with us two nights, yes?"
"That's right," Jane confirmed.
"Very good," said Rutherford. "I have all the details for your reservation in the system, so you're all set." He called over to a dark-haired woman in a business suit and chignon, speaking to a group of conference attendees. "Darla, Mr. and Mrs. Connor are here."
The woman excused herself from the group of business people and hurried over to the desk, looking harried. "Mr. and Mrs. Connor, welcome. You're our last guests to arrive for the retreat. I hope you enjoy your stay here. I'm Darla Runyon, the event coordinator here at the hotel."
"Darla's got a busy weekend ahead," Rutherford told them. "She's managing all the logistics for the retreat, the conference, and the gala tomorrow."
"Sounds like you've got your hands full," Jane commented.
Darla smiled distractedly, "Yes, well, I intend to make sure everything goes smoothly for all our guests."
"Very well, then we'll prepare to be impressed," Jane said with his most charming smile.
Darla blinked at the smile and smiled hesitantly back, clearly impressed herself. Then she glanced at Lisbon and recalled herself. She cleared her throat. "Let me give you your itinerary." She presented a printout to them, pointing a pen at each line item as she read the list aloud. "All the couples will attend the mixer tonight at 6:30. The mixer is an informal way for you all to get to know each other a bit before tomorrow's first session at 9:30. The facilitator, Dr. Geissinger will hold a two hour session with the whole group at 9:30 tomorrow."
Lisbon hid a grimace. Two hours of talking about feelings? She'd rather spend every night for a week on stakeout with Rigsby without snacks.
Darla continued, oblivious. "Then you'll have your couple's massage at 11:45, followed by a romantic lunch on the terrace."
A couple's massage? Ugh. Lisbon made a mental note to ask Jane to figure out a way out of that one. Lunch shouldn't be too bad, though. She and Jane could compare notes on the case. Besides, in a place this fancy, at least the food would be good.
"After lunch, you'll have two hours of free time by the pool, then another group session with Dr. Geissinger. Then, of course, we have our grand gala in the evening. Dress code formal. Then on Sunday morning, you'll have the final group session before checkout at noon."
"Wonderful," Jane said, putting his arm around Lisbon. She stiffened. He gave her a squeeze to remind her to relax in front of their audience. He smiled at Darla. "We're looking forward to it."
"If you need anything at all, please let anyone on the staff know," she said. "Mr. Rutherford will make sure our team gets you whatever you need."
"Yes, please don't hesitate to call the front desk if you need anything," Rutherford said. He nodded to a bellboy standing at attention a few feet away. "Tim, can you please take Connors' bags and show them to their room?"
"Yes, sir." The bellboy, a gangly dark-haired youth of about nineteen years old gathered up the bags. "If you'll just follow me," he said to Jane and Lisbon, and set off for the elevator.
Tim escorted them to their room on the fifteenth floor and set the bags in the spacious closet just inside the door. "I hope everything is to your liking."
Two cozy armchairs backed with silk brocade framed an enormous fireplace that had been lit in anticipation of their arrival. An elegant dining table for two stood before a window with a spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge and the San Francisco Bay. A massive antique queen bed and a bathroom Lisbon was pretty sure was bigger than her first apartment completed the picture of ultimate luxury.
"What do you think, darling?" Jane said, slipping his arm around Lisbon's waist. "Will it do?"
Lisbon started at the sensation of his hand warm on her side. She covered her discomfort by turning her startled jump into a pat on Jane's chest. "It's lovely," she managed, her voice only a little strangled. She tried not to think about the giant bed.
"Thank you, Tim," Jane said, tipping the young man lavishly.
"Anytime, Mr. Connor. Please let me know if you need anything," Tim said. His gaze lingered on Lisbon. "Anything at all."
Jane tightened his grip on Lisbon. "We'll do that." Lisbon resisted the urge to squirm free of his grasp. "You take care now," Jane added. A pointed dismissal.
Tim left.
Lisbon wriggled free. "I'm gonna take a shower," she announced.
"Very well," Jane said, surveying the giant bed. "I suppose we can negotiate sleeping arrangements later."
Lisbon made a non-committal noise and escaped to the bathroom.
When she emerged from the shower, she discovered Jane had stolen her clothes.
In their place, she found a black cocktail dress so short it barely deserved the name, and a pair of black stiletto heels she felt would cause her to topple over the minute she tried to take a step. She huffed in exasperation, but a quick consultation of the clock by the sink convinced her there wasn't time to argue the point. She plotted her revenge while she dressed. She had a few details to work out, but violence would be a key feature of the reprisal.
"So this is what you meant when you said you would be in charge of wardrobe?" Lisbon said to Jane when she emerged, glaring.
"Ah, good, you're ready," Jane said. He had changed into a dark suit that somehow made him look even more handsome than usual. "You look lovely, my dear."
Lisbon's jaw tightened. "Let's get this over with."
He gestured for her to precede him out the door. "After you."
xxx
Lisbon tugged at the hem of the too-short dress, feeling exposed, and struggled to keep up with Jane in her heels when they reached the ground floor and set off across the lobby in the direction of the hotel bar. She wished she could have attended this stupid event in jeans and a blazer.
She missed her gun.
"Stop fidgeting," Jane instructed her. "Pulling on the hem only draws more attention to your legs. Which are fantastic, by the way, so you have nothing to be shy about."
"Next time, you can wear the short dress," Lisbon grumbled. "It's a bit much, isn't it?"
"Nonsense. Every man in the place will be lining up to talk to you. Isn't that a desirable state of affairs for an intelligence-gathering mission?"
Lisbon shot him a disgruntled look but didn't contest the point. She straightened and left off tugging at the hem. "Well, what else have you got up your sleeve?" she said, resigned.
He arched an elegant brow. "Whatever do you mean?"
"I know you. This is only the first of many humiliating situations you're plotting to manipulate me into over the course of the weekend."
"My goal isn't to humiliate you, Lisbon. Although I must say I am enjoying you in this attractively flustered state."
"Ha, ha." They passed through the ornate lobby and entered a wide foyer with two wide double doors opposite.
Jane slowed and came to a halt in the middle of the foyer. "There are a couple things we should go over before we go in there, don't you think?"
Lisbon frowned and turned to face him. "Like what? We already have the cover stories that Blackwell and Lopez prepared."
"We're supposed to be a couple," he reminded her. "We'll need to sell it."
She brushed this off. "It's fine, Jane. I'll just do what I always do when you make me pretend we're married. I'll keep my mouth shut and listen to you make up whatever nonsense you feel like, then ask the relevant questions for the purpose of the interrogation."
Jane made a dissatisfied noise and reached for her hand.
She snatched her hand away. "What are you doing?"
"This is what I'm talking about, Teresa," he said. He took her hand and squeezed it. She resisted the urge to yank it away again. "How convincing will we be as a couple if you pull away from me every time I try to touch you?"
"It's a couples retreat. People only go to those things if their marriage is on the rocks. We'll just pretend I'm mad at you," Lisbon said. "You won't have any reason to deplore my terrible acting skills, because being angry at you comes naturally most of the time."
"No," Jane said. "We need the people we're interacting with to be relaxed so it will feel natural to them to let down their guards and tell us all about their lives and any potential criminal activity they might be engaged in. A couple arguing will only raise tension in the room and invite gossip. Do you want to make ourselves a spectacle, or actually get the information we need to solve this thing?"
She scowled. "All right, you've made your point. What do you have in mind?"
"You need to relax," he said. "You're far too tense and coppish."
She pulled her hand away. "I told you, people very rarely guess I'm a cop."
He reached for her hand again, and she jerked away instinctively. "See what I mean?" he said. "Every time I try to touch you, you get all stiff and tense."
"Because I hate this undercover crap," she said. "I told you, you should have just taken this assignment with Van Pelt."
"Van Pelt and I don't at all have the proper chemistry," Jane said dismissively. "Now, come on. We need to practice."
"Practice what?" she said warily.
"Being convincing as a couple, of course."
She folded her arms across her chest. "How the hell are we supposed to practice for that?"
"Well, as you so charmingly pointed out, we've already got the bickering down. All we need to do is get you more comfortable with the touchy feely parts of the gig."
"Touchy feely is not my strong suit, Jane."
"I'm aware of that, Teresa. But think about it. Would you really rather have to kiss me for the first time in front of a dozen strangers, or now, when there's no one else around?"
Lisbon took two hasty steps back. "Kiss? Why do we have to kiss at all? We could have been married a long time. The thrill is gone."
"We're supposed to be convincing," he reminded her, closing the distance between them.
Her pulse point jumped in her neck as she looked up at him. He was far too close. "You… you really want to kiss me?"
"I'll make it easy on you, Lisbon." He inched closer. "You can drive the whole thing." He came to a halt inches away from her. He angled his head down towards her to place his mouth in easy reach. He closed his eyes. "I'll just stand here, and whenever you're ready, you can go ahead and kiss me."
"This is a nightmare," Lisbon muttered. "I'm asleep, and this will all be over if I just click my heels three times. Or if I pinch you."
"You think your subconscious is manufacturing an excuse for you and I to kiss in your dreams, Lisbon?" He smiled, his eyes still closed. "Intriguing."
Lisbon seriously considered punching him. In a number of sensitive locations.
"Come on, Lisbon," he said, rocking on his heels. "We don't have all day. Pucker up."
"Fine," she said ungraciously. Piqued, she stepped towards him. Then, confronted with the reality of his proximity, stopped. She looked at his mouth. "Jane…I'm not sure this is such a good idea."
"It's just a harmless little kiss, Lisbon. No big deal." He cracked one eye open. "Is it?"
Now that he'd challenged her on the point, she could hardly answer in the affirmative. "I guess not," she said reluctantly.
"Well, then." He closed his eyes again. "Go ahead. Have at it."
This was a trick. There was a con somewhere in here, she was certain. She just couldn't see it. She stared at Jane's mouth, so close now. He had a beautiful mouth, she thought distractedly. Wide and full. God. She bet he was an amazing kisser.
"Take your time," Jane said soothingly, all without opening his eyes. "You're in control."
This was a terrible idea.
She took a deep breath and steeled herself. It was for the good of the cover, she rationalized. No big deal.
She closed the distance between them slowly, warily. Close enough to feel the heat of him. She took another breath and placed her hand along his jaw to steady herself. He let out a breath at the sensation of her touch, his mouth parting softly in anticipation.
She leaned in and pressed her lips against his, a soft, gentle kiss.
Then she lost time.
One second, she was pressing closer to him after he'd made a noise in the back of his throat, buried his hands in her hair, and deepened the kiss. The next, her back was against a wall, a good twenty feet from where they'd been standing in the middle of the foyer. Blood thrumming, nerves alight. Her hands buried in Jane's curls. Her leg hitched over his hip, the short skirt of the black dress riding dangerously high. His hand hot on her bare thigh, pulling her closer as they devoured each other.
The sound of footsteps reached the back of her mind only distantly. It was the startled silence that followed that finally roused her and Jane to the awareness that they had an audience. They broke apart.
Two middle-aged men in business suits had entered the foyer, one heavyset and dark, the other lean and gray. "Don't stop on our account," the first man said with a smirk. He had the faintest trace of an Eastern European accent. "Looks like you were just getting to the good part. By all means, carry on."
Lisbon flushed in mortification. Jane gave a sheepish smile and gave the man a half-hearted salute. But Lisbon noticed he placed himself more firmly between her and the two men, shielding her from their gaze while she attempted to recover from her state of disarray.
The two men exchanged amused glances and went through the double doors to the event, chuckling.
Lisbon buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Jesus Christ. What a disaster."
"Not the rave review I was hoping for, I must admit," Jane remarked.
She lifted her head and glared. "Jane, do you know who that was?"
"No," Jane said. "Why should I?"
"That was Sevechenko," Lisbon hissed. "The man we're supposed to be investigating."
"Well, then we should congratulate ourselves on a job well done," Jane said, unfazed. "We've successfully established contact without raising any suspicion."
"That's what you call successfully establishing contact?" she said, incredulous.
His gaze locked on hers. "Definitely."
"That's not what I—oh, never mind." She straightened her skirt and made an attempt to smooth down her hair. "We'd better get in there."
"Here, let me help you," Jane said, stepping towards her and finger combing her hair into some semblance of order.
"Thanks," she muttered, hyperaware of his closeness. The gentleness of his fingers on her scalp. His mouth was right there—
She straightened. "Let's go," she said briskly.
"Cheer up, Lisbon. At least we can say with certainty that the thrill is definitely not gone." He held out his arm in a gallant gesture. "After you, my dear."
She walked to the double doors with as much dignity as possible, trying to get her mind back in the game. They had a job to do. She needed to focus.
Her mind drifted to Jane's words. Just a harmless little kiss, he'd said. Why had she never learned her lesson properly, after all these years? She should have known better than to trust a word out of Jane's mouth. She glanced at his mouth out of the corner of her eye.
Harmless, her ass.