Fulfilling Fantasies

One.

Hugh Thomas strode down the fancy marbled hall-way, looking for his room – his suite. He never thought a guy like him would be staying in a place like Costa Calma Resort. Finally, an undercover assignment with perks.

His conscience spoke loudly in his head. Remember how you got here. Don't forget what's at stake.

He ignored the stab of guilt and kept walking. There, on the left. Suite 809. He disengaged the lock and swung the door open. The first thing he noticed was a pair of shoes in front of the couch. The cherry-red high heels had seduce me written all over them.

Hugh glanced at his magnetic hotel key card key and then checked it against the door number. He was in the right place. He looked back over at the sexy sandals. Talk about exceptional service. The hotel room came with a woman.

"Hello?"

He listened intently for any sound of movement.

Nothing.

After setting his carry-all in the foyer, he slammed the door shut as a warning.

Still no answer. The thick carpet muffled his steps as he moved farther into the suite. He called out again, his voice echoing off the pale papered walls.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

He poked his head into the bathroom. No woman. Just a makeup bag on the vanity and a used towel hanging on the shower rod. The living room was empty too, except for the lingering scent of perfume. Something floral, but somehow smoky...

A lace-edged bra and matching panties were carefully arranged on the couch cushion that made Hugh smirk. Who is this woman? The bright vermillion lingerie had been laid out precisely, like she wanted to see how they'd look on her body. He picked up the bra, trying to imagine the breasts that fit into it. The satin fabric felt slippery between his fingers and it wasn't hard to picture a hot babe who was equally slick.

He dropped the bra back on the couch, scooped the sandals off the floor and headed for the other room. Maybe the woman was lounging on the bed slightly waiting for him.

Nope. No such luck.

What the hell is going on? How did she get into his suite, and more importantly, where is she now?

Two small suitcases sat against the wall beside the closet. He set the shoes down and flipped one of the luggage tags around. Apparently, Paige Fiona Lewis was visiting Florida from Baltimore, Maryland. He had a name now, but her reason for being here was still a mystery.

He'd been invited to Costa Calma by Ricardo Santos, his connection in the Miami cartel. Santos was supposed to introduce him to the infamous Nigel Esperas. So Hugh couldn't trust anything about this trip, not even bright red panties that begged me to touch them. Too many good agents had been compromised in situations just like this.

A third suitcase lay open on the bed. It was half full, as if she'd been interrupted. He didn't hesitate over rummaging through the contents. He'd worked undercover too long to let a little issue like privacy to stop him. He had to know who this woman was.

The touch me panties and seduce me sandals didn't go with the clothes laid out on the bed. Quality, with recognizable labels, but kind of plain. The skirts were long, the necklines high and everything was a solid color, not a stripe of pattern in sight.

On the other hand, the underwear couldn't have been hotter. He recognized it from his ex-wife's catalogues that still came to the house. Bright floral demi bras, satin tap pants and lace camisoles spilled from the suitcase. Most of the stuff still had price tags attached.