LITMIR.BIZ

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tell him exactly what she was thinking and then follow it up with multistep directions on how to do exactly what she wanted.

      “Technically not wrong,” he pointed out. “What did we score?”

      She smiled. Slowly. Yeah, he might be newly married but he already knew he was in trouble here—and that was before she started pulling stuff out of the gift basket as if she was unloading cans of Campbell’s from a grocery bag.

      “We’ve got edible panties. Edible boxers.” She arched an eyebrow. “Which probably offers more calories than your average woman consumes in a day, so you’ll excuse me if I’m not feeling hungry.”

      She might not be, but he suddenly was. He dropped down onto the bed, shoving rose petals out of the way. “Are you playing show and tell?”

      “You first.” She snorted. “Some of this stuff should come with directions or an operating manual.”

      “Novice.” He flicked her knee with his fingers.

      “Because you’re an expert with—” she squinted “—chocolate body butter?”

      Not yet, but he could be. Licking the stuff off Ashley’s body suddenly didn’t seem half bad.

      “We also have a pair of his and hers nipple clamps.” She waved something around that looked like a medieval torture device in miniature. Or an eyelash curler. Apparently he hadn’t seen everything in his bachelor days. “You could be a gentleman and volunteer to go first.”

      “Not a chance in hell.” Not that he didn’t like the mental image of him touching her nipples, but pain wasn’t his thing. “Your boobs are too pretty to mark up.”

      She made a face he’d seen a dozen times in the field. He razzed her and she gave it right back. “Flatterer. You just like me for my boobs.”

      “And I’d like to keep mine in one piece,” he said, grimacing slightly. Contrary to what she seemed to believe, he actually did have limits. Plus he truly did like more about her than her lovely anatomy. She was a damned good agent. He respected the way she single-mindedly went after her targets and showed no mercy. She knew her way around a gun. And she didn’t hesitate to get dirty. Really dirty. There were four good reasons right there to like Ashley.

      “And here we have our pièce de résistance—” She pulled an enormous purple dildo out of the bottom of the basket. “Apparently the resort staff isn’t sure there’s enough of you to keep me happy and have thoughtfully provided us with Purple Monster. Catch.”

      Karma was a bitch. Levi caught the dildo automatically, then looked at what he had in his hand. Yep. Twelve inches of battery-operated love machine. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Examined the toy again. It definitely merited a second glance because he was pretty sure fitting that much latex in anyone was an anatomical impossibility. Still, his brain did its best to imagine all sorts of scenarios involving Ashley, twelve inches of purple penis and himself.

      “Enjoy,” she said wryly. “I’m going to get a drink at the bar.”

      * * *

      PLENTY OF ADJECTIVES described Levi. Infuriating came to mind. Along with stubborn, pain in her ass, aggravating, and...sexy. Her SEAL was hot. When he flashed her that devilish grin, she was torn between hitting him—and kissing him. Which was going to be her little secret. The look on his face when she’d tossed him that dildo had been pretty priceless. Too bad her phone had been across the room, because a picture of him holding the purple monster would have been ideal counter-blackmail material—which she needed desperately because he was a sneaky, conniving, underhanded bastard. He hadn’t given her a choice about coming here, and that pissed her off. She wasn’t his beck-and-call girl—or his wife, no matter what a piece of paper might say—and the faster he understood that, the better.

      Fortunately, the bar was right where she’d left it on her last visit to Fantasy Island. Although her flight suit and boots weren’t resort wear, she needed to get out of the villa.

      Maybe she should head back to the front desk and see if she could score a second room, because putting some space between her and her irritatingly hot SEAL seemed prudent. Plus if he was going to insist on paying for their stay here, she had a golden opportunity for some good, old-fashioned revenge. She’d run up so many room charges that his credit card would demand a cease-fire. She could host an open bar and clean out the gift shop—if there was anything left to buy after all the welcome gifts that had been stockpiled for them in the room.

      God. She couldn’t hold back a laugh as she recalled his expression when she’d unpacked the basket. She’d half suspected that he’d ordered the stuff just to get a rise out of her, but the purple dildo had surprised him.

      Not that she was usually into toys—and the twelve inches of that particular device were just too optimistic—but she could have been convinced. No. Bad libido. No convincing, no weakening, and no flirting with the enemy.

      She’d gotten her boots off, her pants rolled up and her feet in the sand when Levi showed up a half hour later. Frankly, she was surprised he’d taken as long as he had. The man enjoyed torturing her and he definitely enjoyed a beer, so her presence at the resort’s tiki bar was win-win for him. He was hard to miss where he stood in the bar’s entrance, scanning the place for her. Six feet of hard, brawny SEAL made quite the impression.

      And the way he sauntered across the bar toward her made her want to fan herself. The man was hot. He practically prowled, his movements powerful and self-assured as he came toward her. When he dropped onto the swing seat next to hers, the close-up was even better and since he hadn’t opened his mouth yet? She could still enjoy the view. Almost immediately, he started whistling obnoxiously, his hip bumping hers every time he rocked his swing forward.

      “Go away,” she said.

      Naturally, he grinned and moved closer. Maybe she should try negative reinforcement. If she demanded he sit in her lap, would he run toward the opposite end of the island?

      “Not feeling friendly?” He made a face and yanked the lime out of the longneck the bartender slid over the counter. He took a long pull, the muscles of his throat working. Not that she was staring or anything, but ignoring Levi just wasn’t possible.

      “I’m not in the mood for your shit,” she admitted.

      “You want to talk next steps? Review the plan?” He leaned back against the bar, staring out at the beach. It was dark now, but there were plenty of stars visible in the sky and just enough light to make out the small waves washing up on the sand. If she’d actually been here on her honeymoon, it would have been perfect. Instead, she got Levi. Go figure.

      “I’ve already got a plan.” As if she’d leave something this important to Levi. “I checked with the manager. Told him we had some questions about our ceremony and needed copies of the paperwork. He’s got the wedding coordinator coming in two days and he’ll call the minister for us tomorrow.”

      Levi grinned at her over his beer. “In that big of a hurry to be rid of me, huh?”

      “You really want to be married to me until death do us part?”

      He threw up a hand. “You can stop right there. I’ve seen you with a gun.”

      She snorted. “You’re the better shot.”

      Computers were her strength, but Levi could make shots that should have been physically impossible.

      “I’m not planning on shooting you,” he said dryly, but his eyes twinkled at her. And...was that a hint of a dimple in his cheek?

      God. He could be so cute.

      “That’s my point.” She took a pull on her own beer. “You wouldn’t last a month at being married. In fact, I bet you wouldn’t stick it out a week before you hit the road and ran.”

      He shrugged. “It would depend. Are you planning on being a good wife in this hypothetical scenario of ours?”

      She

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