Glancing at her watch, Samantha calculated Blake’s time in Europe. He’d done most of the calling and she thought it would probably look good for her to take the initiative if in fact someone audited the calls. She picked up the landline and reached for paper on her desk with his home number.

The dial tone buzzed, clicked, and buzzed again.

Samantha froze in place.

She knew that sound. Remembered it far too well. After dropping the phone back in the cradle, she considered her options. Calling Blake on her cell was one, but for all she knew a camera watched and a microphone was somewhere in her house. Thank goodness most of her recent talks with Blake had taken place on her cell outside of her house.

Leaving her house and making the call was another option.

Then there was option number three. If the person, responsible for bugging her phone were listening and hoping to hear a discussion about a fake marriage, they were going to be very, very disappointed.

The government had invaded her privacy before. The results were deadly. Although the stakes weren’t as high this time, there was no way Samantha was going to allow anyone a chance at taking what was rightfully Blake’s to keep.

For better or for worse, Blake was her husband… for the next fifty-three weeks anyway.

Samantha toed off her shoes and removed the cordless phone from the cradle once again. With her cell phone in the other hand, she first sent a text.

Are you home?

Her phone buzzed. For the first time all week.

She started dialing his number. Keep your cell handy and play along.

Blake stared at the screen of his cell phone and shook his head. “Play along? What’s that supposed to mean?” He was about to type in his question when his house phone rang.

When he answered, Samantha’s husky bedroom voice practically purred over the line. “Hi, honey.”

Honey? Where had that come from? He opened his mouth to ask but Samantha kept talking, each syllable more enticing than the next.

“How was your day?”

“Busy. I’m looking forward to a half a day off tomorrow.” His cell phone buzzed. Do you hear that click in the line?

He read Samantha’s question and started to answer aloud. “Samantha, what’s going—”

“God, I miss you. I wish my passport would hurry up and get here so I can join you.”

Blake’s eyes shot up. Samantha didn’t sound like she’d been drinking, although he did like the thought of her missing him. Still, he knew bullshit when he heard it.

Someone is bugging my phone. Keep talking.

“What?” Bugging her phone?

“I said I miss you,” Samantha’s breathless voice wavered.

“I miss you, too,” he whispered slowly as he typed back. WTF is going on?

Samantha chuckled. “You know what I’ve been thinking about all day?” The 900-voice collided with the text messages, both of which started to screw with his brain. If someone had bugged her phone, they’d been in her house. His jaw started to ache and heat built inside his body. He was too damn far away to reach her.

“No, why don’t you tell me?”

Being watched. Think someone’s listening to us now.

“I’ve been thinking about that sexy smile of yours.”

He hesitated in his text reply. “You think my smile’s sexy?”

“You know I do. I miss seeing the laughter in your eyes when we’re together.”

Blake knew her words were for the person listening, but the effect of them was no less potent. Samantha might not be an actress, but she was doing a hell of a job now.

We need to get you out of there.

“You know what I miss about you?” he asked, keeping the conversation exactly where she’d put it.

“Tell me.”

I have to agree with you. She texted.

He was shocked she agreed without a fight. “What?”

“I said tell me what you miss about me.” Samantha redirected him.

Blake set the phone aside and concentrated on her words.

“I miss that wild hair of yours pressed on my pillow.” The image was one he pictured often, even if he hadn’t seen it...yet. “The way you moisten your lips right before I kiss you.”

“You do?” Her voice grew rough.

“I miss the lavender scent of your skin. I’m going to have the gardeners plant bushels of it here so every time I walk by I will be reminded of you.” Where had that come from? And since when was he a poet?

The phone was silent for a moment. “Samantha? Are you still there?” He glanced at his cell to see if she’d sent another text. She hadn’t.

“I’m here. I just… I need to be closer to you. Maybe I should move into your home in Malibu.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you finally agreed.”

“Everything happened so fast, I thought it would be best to move slowly. Now it just seems silly.”

“You’re an independent woman. I understand. But we’ll be spending time here in Europe and there. It would be better for you to get comfortable in both places. Then at least I know where you are when we have to be apart.” Funny, every word he said was true but if there wasn’t another set of ears listening, he probably wouldn’t say any of it.

“You’re… dammit!” Her expletive exploded from her lips.

The hair on his neck stood on end. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I stubbed my toe.” She sounded pissed, not hurt.

His phone buzzed. Found a camera.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He took to his feet and started to pace.