Chapter 1 #3
His lips quirked even more. “I mean, you didn’t have them on when we met in London. Are they part of your disguise? Trying to go for professional and understated, are we?”
Yes, actually, she was.
“Doesn’t work. They just make your eyes look bigger, more golden. They frame your face too well, and you look sexy as hell. Slutty glasses really work for you.”
Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened. “Did you just call my glasses slutty?” That wasn’t a thing. Glasses were not slutty.
“Sorry. It’s just that they have this naughty-librarian vibe going on, and they seriously work for you.”
She whipped off the glasses and tossed them onto the seat next to her. “Professional.”
“Right. I will work on that.” His hands lifted, and he held his palms toward her, as if surrendering.
“But I am an asshole. You heard Morris. Everyone knows that particular fact about me. So you should probably just report back to your boss that this isn’t going to work.
I’m too much of a dick. You can’t get me to cooperate with you.
I’m a lost cause. I offend you constantly, and you want someone else for this mission.
” A brisk nod. “Totally understandable. Tell your boss all of that stuff.”
The light dawned. And she had to smile at him. A big, wide grin.
“Hell.” He swallowed. She caught the faint click of his Adam’s apple. “That’s dangerous.”
“You’re trying to make me angry.” Obviously.
“You’re deliberately saying inappropriate things and attempting to infuriate me so that I will leave you.
” She leaned toward him. Put her hand down very close to his thigh.
Not touching him because she knew that if she did, she’d feel that powerful attraction again.
Yes, dammit, attraction. “Not happening. I am in this mission until completion. So you can call my glasses slutty. You can insult me all you like, but it won’t work.
I am not going to run away from you. I am here for the duration. ”
He didn’t look away from her. “For the record, I meant slutty in the best possible way. I happen to love slutty things.”
That was actually believable. “I’m sure you do.” Time to take control of this situation. “I saved your life tonight.”
Logan squinted at her. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. I think I had things under control.”
“I think a man with a gun was sneaking up behind you,” she gritted from between clenched teeth.
“I knew he was there,” Logan revealed. “Not like I could forget about the missing-nose-ring punk.”
“I think that if I hadn’t tased him, you would have gotten a bullet to the spine.”
“Nah. That idiot had to be a horrible shot. Worst case, it would have gone in my shoulder, but, like I said, I knew he was there. I would have disarmed him before he fired.”
She frowned at him.
He smiled at her.
“Would it kill you to say thanks?” Charlotte asked.
“You didn’t have a purse with you. No bag at all. I have got to know, just where were you hiding that taser?” His intent stare drifted over her. “So many possibilities…”
“Logan.”
“Charlotte.”
She huffed out a breath. “You are working with the CIA. I am your handler. I am your twenty-four, seven companion—”
“Not exactly.”
“I am your—what do you mean, not exactly?” He’d derailed her.
“I mean, you’re my personal assistant. You work with me during the day.
And, sure, some nights. But when we reach the hotel—and we’re almost there, FYI—I will go to my room.
You’ll go to your room. Don’t worry, I’ll give you one on the floor below my suite.
But you won’t actually be with me in my suite.
So not twenty-four, seven. Because that’s not something a personal assistant does.
Stay with me during the night, I mean.” A pause.
“That’s what a girlfriend does. A lover.
In order to sleep in my bed, to truly be twenty-four, seven close, you’d need to take up that role.
” He scraped a hand over his jaw. “Interested? Want to switch positions?”
“I—” That was all she could manage. Her hands fisted.
“Do you want to be my lover or my personal assistant? Which works better for you?”
“Stop being outrageous.” Hadn’t she told him that this ploy would not work?
“I wasn’t being outrageous. I was being helpful. I was giving you options.”
“I am your personal assistant.”
“Noted. Then you will sleep downstairs, on the floor below my suite. Such a disappointment for us both.”
The limo was slowing. They were, indeed, at his hotel. His hotel-slash-casino. The huge, red beacon in Vegas. Barnabas pulled them right up to the valet area.
She turned for the door. Logan was driving her crazy. She reached for the door handle.
But his hand caught hers.
“I’m touching you,” he said.
Uh, yes, obviously, he was.
“My apologies if I am breaking a rule you have, but there is something you need to understand. A warning I want to give before anyone opens this door.”
Her head turned. They were very, very close.
And all traces of humor were gone from his face.
“I put you behind me tonight for a reason,” he rasped. “When we were meeting with Morris, I deliberately had you positioned behind me so that I could protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“Don’t you?”
Uh, no, she’d just said—
“You will not ever be hurt when I am the target. I will shield you from my enemies.”
He wasn’t supposed to be the target in this mission.
“You follow my orders, Charlotte. Or this does not work. I don’t care what the CIA thinks I owe them. You put yourself in danger again, and we’re done.”
Oh, was that what he thought? Soft laughter rolled from her.
He blinked. Twice. And looked, for just a moment, spellbound.
Her hand rose and touched his jaw. She felt the prickle of stubble against her palm. “I’m afraid you don’t get to decide when we’re done. I’m here with you until my mission is complete.”
“You haven’t told me what the mission is.”
That would be because it was classified information, and Logan Sterling—one-time petty thief turned criminal mastermind turned hotel and casino magnate—he was not someone she was supposed to trust. He didn’t get classified intel.
No civilians ever got classified intel, not on day one of the mission.
“It’s my life you’re invading,” Logan told her. “So you follow my orders.”
The valet attendant opened the door.
She and Logan were positioned close to one another.
Intimately so. With her hand on his jaw.
With his hand on her. It probably looked as if they were about to kiss.
They weren’t. Kissing was not going to happen.
She’d play the role of his assistant. She’d do her job.
Get him to provide her with the access she needed in order to reach a certain twisted and depraved individual.
But she would make no promises to Logan. Certainly not about allowing him to shield her from his enemies. That just would not work at all.
Because the big plan was for her to attract major attention from one of his enemies. Not just attract that attention, but to become that man’s next potential victim.
Her hand slid away from Logan’s jaw. Her shoulders squared. “Is there anything else you need tonight, sir?”
His eyes glittered. She could hear the sound of voices beyond the vehicle, rising and falling. Car horns honked in the distance. Music played. For just a moment, as Logan stared at her, she thought he might say…
You.
Instead, he shook his head. “I’ll give you a week. Hell, maybe not even that long. Five days.”
There was no timeline on how long she worked undercover. She stayed in place until the job was done.
“Five days,” he repeated. “Before you run screaming from me. I am certain that I will drive you crazy by then.”
She exited the vehicle. As she climbed out, his hand released her wrist. Heat lingered against her skin, like a brand he’d put on her. “I won’t run screaming.”
He exited. Stood beside her. Tall and strong. Six-foot-three. An easy two hundred pounds of muscle. At least.
“We’ll just see about that,” he murmured.
“It takes a lot to make me scream.”
His sensual lips curled. “Trust me, I’m up for the challenge.”
And, for some reason, she felt the impact of that particular vow all through her body.
Logan Sterling is dangerous. Logan Sterling is trouble.
Logan Sterling…was going to be her companion for the foreseeable future.
This particular case might just turn into a nightmare.