Page 22 of Three Steps Behind

“On the contrary, it’s taught me plenty. How to protect my derriere, for one. And how to run the card game circuit. I’ve got quite the show going in here.”

He didn’t blink. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Don’t say that. I’m a woman of mystery.”

“You’re a mystery, all right.”

“Mmm.” She crossed her legs under the table, curious where this was going. Life was one big play and always a con—except with Dalton. A smile curled on her lips. She loved her man. Her good, solid man she’d gone straight for. But, unfortunately, Agent Marshall had nailed her on a year-old cheating-at-a-casino charge, and she’d been stuck here for six months.

But Dalton was waiting for her, and she was counting down the days, as slow as honey off the comb. He’d said he’d wait, but she feared it would prove too long of a stint and he’d move on. She couldn’t let that happen. She loved the man, truly loved him. She flicked her attention back to Marshall. “I imagine you didn’t pop in just to say hi.” She inched forward. “So why are you here? Want to bust me again? Sorry. No offenses in here.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Wow.” She grinned with pleasure. “I really get under your skin.”

“Fifteen months of chasing you has that effect.” He smirked.

“How sweet. You enjoy the effect I have on you.”

He cocked his head. “Not that kind of effect.”

“Don’t be rude, Aubry. You’re in my house now. Let’s play by the rules.”

He rested his forearms on the table. “Which are?”

“You came to me for whatever reason I’m sure you’ll share, but the least you can do is be polite about it.”

He interlocked his fingers. “Fair enough.”

“Thank you. And the second rule, never come empty-handed. I mean, you could have brought a cake with a tool inside so I can get out of this blasted place.”

“Bring you something.” He chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. “You really are a number.”

“Numbers are my game.” She winked.

“Believe me, I know.” He sighed, his breath coming out in a whoosh. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“No?” She arched a brow. She couldn’t wait to get back in a spa and get everything tidied up—facial, eyebrow wax, sink into a massage.

Tension filled his jaw—that tiny muscle flicking along it. Always around her. She clearly got under his skin, and though she was having a little fun with the agent, she was getting impatient to learn what his true purpose for being there was. Had he found another charge with enough evidence to snag her again? “What is it you want from me?”

“Why do you assume I want anything from you?”

“One, because you’re here. And two, because it looks like needing to ask me a question is about to kill you. So . . .” She drummed her fingernails on the metal tabletop. “What is it?”

“I’m getting to it,” he said, pulling a folder from his bag and setting it on the table.

She waited as he took his sweet ole time. Cold seeped through the sleeves of the white, thermal top under her always-stunning orange jumpsuit. At least they said jumpsuits were coming back in style.

“Whatever you came here for, I know it’s not just to chitchat—though we’ve had our fun times, haven’t we, Aubry?”

“Chasing you across the country and gathering enough tangible evidence to put you away wasn’t fun.”

“No? Not even a little?”

He held his face in that Fed way. If anyone embodied a Fed, it was Aubry Marshall.

“I thought you enjoyed the chase as much as I enjoyed the ride.”