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The ice queen had returned and Isaac didn't give three shits He'd taken his tis, real bacon, hash browns, and more while she nursed her cup of coffee like it was ninety percent moonshine By the time he put a wad of cash on the table that would cover the one froht arctic-tundra-on-the-winter-solstice cold

"Ready to go, darlin'?" He was too pissed to care that he was being a petty asshole

She narrowed her eyes and slid out of the booth "Don't call me that"

"Do you prefer wifey?" he asked, giving a quick wave to the waiter, a Crest Society lookout judging by his tattoo and the way he hadn't taken his eyes off him and Tamara since they walked in

The waiter gave hi look as Isaac opened the diner's door for his fake bride

"I'd prefer you tellon," she said, her voice clipped and cold

"Why, we're on the road trip fro like two alley cats with their tails tied together"

An answer and a warning She wasn't a field operative and she was pissed, but that didn't excuse fucking up this operation by asking questions that were better left until they were alone Talare that showed all the fire underneath that frigid facade of hers before stalking past him He barely made it to the door before she did to hold it open for her like his esture as she stalked past, her chin high and her ass just as abso-fucking-lutely perfect as it o nights ago when he'd cupped it and driven deep into her while she writhed in ecstasy underneath him

He followed her out into the bright sunshine, across the gravel parking lot, and into the Idaho Inn's lobby Sure, he could have outtalked her easily, but the vieouldn't have been nearly as good, and he had enough testosterone in hiht on the ten-point-pissed-off scale

The tiny lobby was craood condition as the rest of the ray hair sat behind the desk

Isaac put on his tourist voice "Hi there We have reservations under Pat Hargrove" He laid enough cash for the room on the counter

The woman didn't blink at thetoward hirabbed a pair of keys fro board behind the desk "Room twenty-three It's around the corner at the end"

He scrawled “Pat Hargrove” on the log, took the keys, and strolled out the door Tamara would follow The stubborn woman wanted answersShe s fro it over her arm—and on to the room

It was gloomy inside, even more so when he shut the door and locked it behind them His first instinct was the open the shades, but he wasn't sure he wanted a better look at the rooht from the bedside lamp offered His eyes had just adjusted when Tahts on

She let out a relieved sigh "It's not pretty, but at least it looks clean"