When it comes to breaking and entering…
She nodded.
“Here’s my plan.” He leaned close enough to kiss her. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip. But he bypassed her lips and pressed his mouth close to her ear. His trim beard tickled her earlobe and she bit back a giggle.
Focus.
He spelled out his approach and she could hear the excitement coursing through his barely audible voice.
He is loving this.
Maybe, just maybe, she’d win him over. She’d get him drunk on adrenaline—seduced by adventure—and then—
“I’ll leave your shoes here,” he said as he drew back and met her gaze. “Now drop down to your hands and knees.”
“What?” she whispered.
“The plan.” He grinned at her. “We need to crawl.”
“Right.” She slid her back against the wall. He moved away to give her space, but remained close enough for her to see every inch of his tux-clad chest as she lowered down past his cummerbund. Her knees hit the ground and she paused. The look in his eyes had nothing to do with security guards and midnight adventures—or at least not the fully clothed kind.
She placed her palms flat on the floor. Then she glanced up at him. Pure lust stared down at her. His lips were parted and his eyes shone with desire. No one had ever looked at her like that. As if he wanted to take her. Claim her.
“I guess this dress isn’t appropriate for crawling through museums,” she whispered. It had to be the Marchesa. The makeover. If he spotted her on her hands and knees in her lab, he wouldn’t look twice.
Carter carefully set her shoes on the floor and silently settled onto all fours at her side.
“It’s not the dress, Ivy.” He nodded his head to the security booth. “Now move.”
Chapter 11
Nothing beats the pulse-pounding rush of adrenaline and a perfect view.
If Carter closed his eyes, he could still picture the landscape below, rushing toward him, as he fell through the air alongside his teammates. The Middle East had seen years of war and conflict, but from the air, the jagged peaks in the hills had stolen his breath away. He still jumped out of airplanes, mostly in New York’s Catskills. But upstate New York and war zones half a world away had nothing on the shimmering backside crawling in front of him.
Stop ogling your scientist’s ass.
He sped up. The hard floor pressed against his knees. His tux would never be the same. Mrs. Lindsey would reprimand him for ruining the four-thousand-dollar suit. But tonight was worth a closet full of eveningwear and then some. And not just because of the view.
They crawled past the security booth and turned left. A wide set of stairs appeared in front of them, filling the cavernous hallway. Side by side, they climbed the steps and emerged on the first floor.
He scanned their surroundings, searching for guards and security cameras. He found a few of the latter. Plus a dinosaur. The fossil reared up on its hind legs and stood in the dimly lit rotunda to his right.
“We’re not visiting the Barosaurus tonight,” Ivy whispered. “This way.”
She turned left and headed for a pair of glass doors. In the center of the large hall hung a giant blue whale from the ceiling. The sculpture glowed in the orange emergency lights.
“I think the best way to access the special exhibition is through the small mammals hall.”
“That guy is not small,” he murmured as they walked down the stairs leading to the open space beneath the famous whale.
“This way.” She swept into a dark, narrow hallway. The tulle skirts moved around her dramatically. And with the light from the surrounding wooden-framed dioramas, he could see the outline of her legs again. She glided past the mink, the squirrels, and a wolverine. It was like watching a badass, fictional movie character in action.
Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, meet Dr. Ivy Grant, Museum Adventuress.
But I’ll bet Lara Croft never set out on a mission in a gown.
Plus, Ivy was flesh and blood. She was real.