Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 149641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 599(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 599(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
He tugged on her hand, and when she looked back his jaw was slightly open. He stared for a moment and then took the lead. “We should dance.”
It was only an op. It wasn’t more. It wasn’t the culmination of her girlish dreams to find a man she loved more than life itself. Nope.
Sometimes it was hard to be the wide-eyed dreamer in a family full of spies and military men and women.
A waltz started up, and Ben brought her hands into the proper position. “Is he here?”
The question was asked on a whisper, his lips barely moving in case anyone was watching on the cams. Of which there were many.
She squeezed his arm once. Once for yes. Twice for no.
“On the dance floor?” Ben asked as he started to lead.
One squeeze.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Maggie,” Ben whispered, the hand on her waist tightening. “Were you really thinking about role-playing?”
She shrugged. He probably thought she was a complete pervert. Or that she was trying to manipulate him with sex. She’d had a boyfriend who told her that. When she’d explained she was only trying to get an orgasm, he’d gone to the she-was-a-complete-pervert argument.
“I was. It’s a beautiful place, and I enjoy role-playing. It takes me out of my head and lets me unleash the parts of myself that don’t get let out often.” While she was talking softly to Ben, she was also keeping up with her steps and looking around to get eyes on the target.
“What parts, Maggie?” Ben asked. “What parts don’t get to play?”
The man could dance. She felt light in his arms, like this was where she belonged. “My submissive parts. On your left.”
His eyes moved with the practiced subtlety of a man who’d played spy games for years. She could see the moment he clocked the target moving with his partner. “Submissive? I rather thought you preferred to be the top.”
So he’d been reading up. She was fairly certain the man had been mostly vanilla. Oh, she knew from Dare that Ben claimed he’d studied a bit for a woman he was seeing, but she didn’t think he had any real training. And naturally his read on her was completely wrong. Kala was the one who felt the need to top a partner. Not lover. She wasn’t sure her sister had ever had a lover.
She had to consider the idea that Ben was attracted to her twin more than her. It would be her luck and her eternal curse. To seem to be the sunny, bright one, and to always be relegated to her sister’s shadow.
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied.
“I think our secondary is on the edge of the ballroom,” Lou said in her ear, and there was no small amount of sympathy in her tone. Probably because Lou had heard the longing in those dismissive words. Lou was smart about tech, but she was no dummy when it came to emotional intelligence either. “Did I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?”
She felt a ghost of a smile cross her face. “Thanks. I think it’s time to move.”
Ben started to maneuver her toward the edge of the dance floor. “That’s him. I recognize him from the reports. He works directly for Huisman. And he’s nervous. His hand is in his pocket. I think that dumbass is playing with the thumb drive.”
Sure enough, there was a pasty-faced man in an ill-fitting tux openly looking for his target. Like no subtlety there.
The man approaching him wasn’t technically a spy either. Not the government kind. He worked for a multinational conglomerate, and this was apparently how Huisman liked to move information around without leaving a trail that could lead back to him.
If they were right, there was some nasty intelligence on that thumb drive. Huisman was working on some form of weaponized anthrax he’d stolen from Dare’s father’s company. They wouldn’t be able to stop his research, but at least they’d be able to see what he had.
If she could do her job.
She smiled brightly at her fake husband. “Could you get me a drink?”
Ben frowned but played his part, leaving her alone.
She watched as the exchange was made, the corporate spy sliding Huisman’s drive into his pocket.
One thing they’d learned about this man was his weakness for lovely women. The target didn’t see women as anything but servants and sluts. He was married but kept at least two mistresses around and couldn’t even stay faithful to them.
Kenzie positioned herself perfectly so the man would have to brush past her.
As he was approaching, she dropped her small handbag.
“Perfectly done,” Lou said in her ear. “He’s looking and he’s practically drooling. Careful. He’s moving in.”
She bit her bottom lip and started to bend over, but there he was, leaning down to grip her tiny bag.