Miranda Lockwood’s heart thumped even as she tried to concentrate on slowing it down. She’d learned some breathing techniques, a few thought experiments—and they usually worked whenever she did them. The aim was to center her focus and make her ready for whatever assignment she’d been given.

This one— God, this one was a clusterfuck. How had Victor Conti known she wasn’t what she’d claimed to be? She’d spent months studying him, months planning this mission—and her cover’d been blown within days. The only saving grace was that he’d been so certain of his ability to punish her that he’d revealed the information too soon.

If he’d waited until they’d been somewhere more private— Well, she wouldn’t be here now. Wouldn’t be in this tiny taxi with this infuriatingly calm and seriously sexy man.

That chiseled jaw— Heavens, she didn’t think they really made those anywhere but Hollywood. But Henry Cavill had nothing on this guy.

Miranda drew in a deep breath and told herself to concentrate. She had to get out of this mess. She had to ditch this guy, find a car, and make contact with her handler. Then she had to get out of Vegas before Conti’s people found her.

Jesus, what had she gotten herself into?

“You look troubled, Jane.”

She almost didn’t respond, but then she’d told this guy her name was Jane, hadn’t she? She didn’t know why she’d done it considering it was her actual middle name. Her cover name was Tiffany White, and she’d spent a long time getting accustomed to answering to that. Months, goddammit.

And now it was over. She hadn’t stopped Conti from doing anything. Hadn’t found out where the hub of his business was or where he was shipping the guns and drugs. She also hadn’t found out a thing about Mark. Hell, she’d promised she would find Mark’s killer, but she still hadn’t managed it.

Four years in the CIA, eight months since Mark’s death, and she still didn’t know a damned thing. All she knew was that she missed him. He’d been her mentor, her lover at one time, and her friend.

And now he was gone, his life snuffed out in a single moment by someone in Conti’s organization. She was certain she was on the right track. But holy fuck, now what?

“Jane?”

She snapped her gaze to Mister Tall, Dark, and Sexy. He had coal-black hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin that said he’d spent time in the sun. His chest was broad beneath his white button-down. He wore faded jeans and cowboy boots, and her tongue nearly tripped over itself as her eyes made the journey from those boots back up to firm, kissable lips.

Well hell, since when had her libido decided to return? She’d been with no one in over a year. To feel the stirring of desire now was inconvenient—and definitely not happening, no matter how sexy this guy was.

And hey, just because he was big and brawny didn’t mean his dick matched the exterior package. What a disappointment that would be. Not to mention, though he looked tough, he most likely wasn’t. A gym rat who appealed to the ladies because of his physique, but put him in a do-or-die situation and this pretty boy was going to die more likely than not.

“Yeah, cowboy?” she tossed out with more than a hint of contempt.

His brows drew together for a second, and she wondered if she’d insulted him. Then she shrugged mentally. Who cared if she had? She wasn’t going to see him ever again. In about ten minutes, they were parting ways forever.

“I’m not a danger to you,” he said. “You don’t have to grip that gun so tightly. Relax a minute, breathe while you can. Those guys aren’t far behind, but they’re far enough.”

She sucked in a breath. How would he know? “Doesn’t matter how far they are. They know who I am now.”

Jeez, had she really just said that? She was slipping. Dammit, Mark, why did you trust me in the first place?

“And who are you, Jane?”

There was an ache in her chest. A knot in the pit of her stomach. Who was she? Hell, she’d like to know that herself. She’d never really known. She just reinvented herself for whatever job came along and then pretended it didn’t matter.

But that wasn’t what he was asking. He was asking for her name, the name those bastards now knew. How had that happened? The moment she got Badger on the phone, she was going to find out what the ever-loving fuckity-fuck had gone wrong back there.

“Nobody important. Just a girl with bad judgement.”

The taxi pulled into the circular driveway of the Rio, and Miranda thought about what would happen next. She’d head into the casino, make her way through to the parking garage, and then she’d borrow a ride.

Basic but effective. Keep changing the dynamic. Confuse the bastards until she could get to the safe house. She just prayed the safe house wasn’t compromised. Considering how badly this day was going, nothing would surprise her.

“Go around to the side,” she ordered. “The bus loading zone.”

The driver shrugged. “Your money.”

But he did as he was told. She glared at the big dude she’d abducted when the taxi came to a stop. “Don’t forget the extra fifty,” she told him when he dipped into his wallet.

He glanced up at her as he took the bills and thrust them through the window. Another second and they were out on the street. She searched the surrounding area, looking for any signs of Conti and his men.

She spun and started walking toward the casino.

“Hey.”

She glanced up at Mister Tall, Dark, and Sexy. He kept pace with her, striding through the doors of the casino and into the smoky hell it contained.

“You can go now, cowboy. Thanks for giving me some cover.”

“I think you’re in trouble, Jane. I think you could use some backup.”

She stopped and a cocktail waitress deftly spun around her before they collided. The casino wasn’t crowded yet, but it was getting there. The smoke permeated the air in spite of the filters that sucked it out, and the bells and whistles of the slots rang with abandon. Scantily clad women carried trays of drinks between slots, and people hunched over machines, cigarettes dangling from mouths while they kept pressing the button to bet again.

“And what makes you think you’re qualified to provide backup?” No way in hell was she accepting the help of a guy she didn’t know, but he intrigued her more than he should. Too pretty by half.

Time’s wasting, girlie.

“The name’s Cody, by the way.”

“Cody. Fine. Look, I don’t have time for small talk, and I’m not going to sleep with you. You can run along now. Go find a waitress to fuck or something, but stop wasting my time.”

He took a step into her before she knew what he was about. Instinctively, she stepped back on her heel and prepared to attack.

His hands moved like lightning. A moment later, she was staring at her purse tucked under his arm. Holy shit.

“Give me that back. Now.”

He looked too cool for words. Unfazed. She was having to revise her opinion of him, and she didn’t like what this new development said about what she’d thought of him in the first place. Was she losing her touch?

“Not happening, Jane. Not until you tell me who you are and what’s going on.”