Melanie Cordova, CIA computer geek, grumbled as she pushed the maid's cart down the dingy hallway in Columbia. The most she'd seen of her new tropical local was a nondescript hotel room. Jeb was using it, in this off shoot of the Sumerian Embassy, as their base of operations. Downstairs, a fancy dress ball was in progress, but she, dressed in a skimpy pink uniform two sizes too small, was schlepping a mop bucket down the hall.

Sometimes life wasn't fair, but she of all people ought to know that. Raised by her mom, after her father died, it wasn't until the agency hired her that she'd learned the truth. Her handsome, loving father had ties to organized crime. Even more shocking, her great Uncle Harry Leone was actually a reputed mob boss, Harry the Horse. She was seven-years-old the last time she'd seen Harry. He'd pulled a poker chip out of his pocket, one of his favorite tricks, and slipped it into her pocket, telling her it was her favor chip. After her father died, she and her mom moved across the country, and she forgot about Harry.

When her family history almost failed to get her clearance with the agency, it came as a shock. It wasn't an auspicious way to begin her career, and it kept her from anything but a subordinate position, until now. Actually, she was surprised the agency hired her, but she figured her straight arrow record had won them over. Breaking the law was abhorrent to her. Still, she'd taken pains to keep her past from her coworkers, learning quickly when she'd admitted it to an old boyfriend and he promptly dumped her. Apparently, the field agent she had her brief fling with considered it career suicide to keep seeing her. She didn't care ... who wanted to date a man in black anyway?

Jeb Mason recruited her out of the computer lab two weeks ago, exciting her with promises of adventurous, even exotic, fieldwork. It'd seemed to come at a fortuitous time, as the case she'd been building against the San Sebastian Mines had gone south. When she'd voiced her suspicions that the formerly inactive mine, now supposedly producing emeralds, was actually a smuggling operation, she'd been shot down severely. When Jeb came along, dangling an opportunity before her she'd never thought she'd get, she jumped.

So far, the only action she had was fending off her new boss's clumsy advances. She tugged at the uniform's buttons, strained to the limit over her too generous breasts, wishing she were flat-chested. Damn, he'd done this to humiliate her. It was another in a long list of passive-aggressive moves Jeb pulled since she'd bested him on the rifle range, then kicked him in the groin when he'd tried to make up for it by trying to kiss her.

The mean-eyed creep practically drooled when he'd seen her in the skimpy maid's uniform earlier this evening, and she'd wasted no time squashing any lusty ideas he might be harboring. She might have to work under him, but she wouldn't sleep with him. She had much higher standards, even though men weren't exactly beating down her door. As a thirty-two-year-old, slightly plump wallflower, she wasn't holding out for a hero. The truth be told, her vibrator was her only sexual outlet these days and she was happy with it, wasn't she? She ignored the little voice in her head that screamed ... hell no! Coming into this steamy jungle setting had to be warping her brain, she thought with wry self-humor. One thing for sure, it was turning her formerly resting hormones up high. Damn, how she wished she could meet somebody, even if only for a hot one-night-stand, but that wasn't in the cards for her.

She gave her mop bucket a shove and winced when water splashed on her ugly maid's shoes. Right, it just went to show her that she needed to keep her mind on business. She was going to make her first, and probably only, field assignment a success. Then she would hightail it back to the computer lab where she belonged, with the rest of the nerds. But first, she had some clandestine files to find and decrypt.

Delta Star Agent, Ace Riser silently assembled his sniper rifle in the dark, as he listened to the footsteps out in the hallway. Whoever was out there wasn't bothering to use stealth, which made him cautious. The collar of his tailored tuxedo was turned up to block out even a hint of white, but it could be turned down if he had to blend in. He raised his weapon and caught his breath, waiting. Another dirty, but necessary job to do ... so why did this one feel different?

Maybe too many years in the field had finally burned him out, like Miles Vance had said. Suddenly he was getting tired of the deadly game he played so well. One thing was sure, after this mission, he was taking a well-deserved vacation. A few weeks holed up at the Texas ranch he loved so much would help him refocus. After that, it would take something a hell of a lot more tempting than this crap to make him jump to Bran Frost's bidding again.

He watched the doorknob turn and let out a slow breath, deliberately slowing his pulse, his finger on the trigger as he waited. Take aim and shoot, piece of cake. He never missed, especially when his foolish targets wandered into the kill zone. When a statuesque blond beauty in an undersized maid's uniform stole into the room, he froze in surprise, taking his finger off the trigger. Well hell, he'd encountered female assassins before, but not like her. He knew in a heart-stirring instant she was no pro, as he watched her fumble with the door. Moonlight bathed her curvaceous silhouette in an angelic glow, giving him a prime view of her sexy tits and ass as she looked guiltily about the room.

He grinned in spite of himself. She reminded him of a kid about to raid the cookie jar. He ought to take her over his knee in retribution. His mind wandered as his cock got involved, throbbing in response as he watched her bite her lip. Plump and fully curved, she reminded him of an old-time pin-up--not classically beautiful, but arresting just the same. If she wasn't the assassin he was assigned to take out, then who the hell was she?

In that instant, she spun to look at him, her eyes widening in shock. He looked into her lavender eyes and hit her with a knock out dart as she opened her full sexy lips to scream. The dart hit her on the left shoulder, right above one truly impressive Dolly Partonesque breast. She let out a breathy little whimper as she fell. He caught her before she hit the ground, pulling her sweet weight against his hardening body. Dazzled and confused as the mingled scents of strawberries and sweet woman tantalized his senses, he bit out a curse. His gut tightened and his stupid cock twitched as he looked down at his prisoner. Well, hell, what a cluster fuck. One thing was clear; one of them had been set up to take a fall, but which one, and why? Until he knew the truth, he couldn't let her go.

He'd have to take her out the same way he'd come in, because no matter what, he had to find out why she was stealing secrets. After securing his weapon, he tossed his sexy captive over his shoulder and carried her out to the balcony. Jasmine growing outside the window toyed with his senses, but not as much as the woman he carried. Masculine laughter, a spattering of Spanish and the smell of cigarettes told him the embassy's rent-a-cops were making their hourly patrol. He eased back into the shadows, watching them pass by undisturbed. Only when they were out of sight did he shinny down the vines, his sweet-smelling burden over his shoulder, going out the way he'd come. It was a little tricky with the distraction of the pin-up's ample tits pressing into his back, but he did it. His cock pulsed hungrily every step of the way, making him scowl as he told himself to knock it off.

Gritting his teeth, he silently made his way across the grounds with his burden over his shoulder. He laid her down gently in the back of his panel van, stopping to look at her under a streetlight as his lusty cock stirred again. She was soft and even prettier close-up, with long dark eyelashes that looked like angel's wings against her flushed cheeks, an impudent little nose, soft pink lips slightly parted in sleep, and long, gold blond hair that didn't come from a bottle. Innocent, he decided, wondering how she'd gotten involved in this mess. She let out a little snore and he grinned, even though he knew they were both in deep trouble. Delta frowned on kidnapping civilians, but he frowned even harder on killing innocents. It was time to get out of Dodge and come up with Plan B, whatever the hell that was.