by Misty Evans
Four sentences loaded with all kinds of innuendo. Sparring came so naturally to them, he was using it to help her relax. He knew she’d never cheat on him, even if they were estranged. “You think I need one in order to drive a Maserati? That I might not just pick it out for myself?"
A grin shone in his eyes even though his lips did no more than quirk. “You’re not exactly a car aficionado. You didn’t even have a driver’s license until you went to work for the Agency.”
A dig at her childhood, filled with chauffeurs and appointed drivers. “Maybe I've acquired a taste for flashy six cylinders.”
“So, it's a company car. Who’re you working for?"
Without her even trying to lead him to the topic, he'd segued right into it. “That’s actually what I want to talk to you about. My employer."
For a split second, he looked relieved—probably because she hadn't brought up the divorce they never seemed to get around to—and then the relief morphed into curiosity. “Are you in trouble?"
Assuming the worst. She supposed she deserved that. “No. Even if I were, I would never lead my trouble to Uncle Martin. I'm not in any—well, not exactly. My last assignment didn't go the way it should have, and now I'm trying to make up for it, you might say.”
A long moment of scrutiny. “Go on."
She was about to when Aidan’s second-in-command appeared, slightly out of breath. He was young and cute, in that nerdy computer guy sort of way. He had muscles under his suit, but was wearing a Minecraft tie.
“Sorry to interrupt," he said to her before hastily turning his attention to Aidan. “We’ve got a problem, boss. One of our Alphas just arrived and has an issue with his room. He's giving Megan and Candace a lot of grief, demanding to see Mr. DeMarco, but he's on that conference call and ordered us not to interrupt him."
Aidan immediately rose and buttoned his jacket. "I'll be right there," he said to the guy. To her, “Excuse me. I need to handle this."
He was going to handle it? The head of security? Pushing to her feet, Bree combed her fingers through her tangled hair and headed for the entrance. “I’ll take care of it."
He fell into step beside her as she took the steps to the wide sidewalk. “What do you think you're going to do? This guy probably reserved the Crystal Breeze room and now you're in it. You better let me talk to him. I know him."
"I know how to talk to a guest and convince them to take a different room."
“He’s an Alpha. He won't want a different room."
They made it to the French glass doors and Aidan opened one for her. As she passed through, she lowered her voice. “Fifty bucks says I can get him to accept a different room and be happy to do it."
He touched her lower back as they swept into the atrium. “You’re on."
Across the way, she spotted the man leaning on the front desk arguing with Megan. Bree scanned him from the back. Medium height, dark hair, expensive suit and shoes. Beside his leg sat a single suitcase. A briefcase was slung over his shoulder.
His voice rose and fell, his French accent melodic even though he was upset. Candace shot a glance over the desk, catching Bree’s eye. Help was clearly telegraphed.
Joey fell into step with her and Aidan. “Megan is a master at handling guests," he murmured, "but this guy won't be deterred."
"Name?" Bree asked.
“Etienne Chardy.”
Bree winked at Candace and Megan to let the young women know she’d deal with the situation and to relax. Candace gave her a relieved smile. Megan still looked flustered—upset that Martin’s niece had to step in, Bree assumed.
“Mr. Chardy." As the man turned to see who was calling his name, Bree stuck out her hand and turned on her megawatt smile. In the field, she often had to use her beauty and personality to distract or divert her target. In the spa business, the same tactics worked on upset clients. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience."
The man's dark eyes scanned her and softened at her smile. His skin was burnished by the sun, his lower face covered with a close cut beard. He hesitated only a moment before accepting her handshake. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure."
"I'm Martin's niece, Abreena. Call me Bree. He’s tied up with a business matter at the moment, and sends his apologies. He'll catch up with you later. In the meantime, I'm here to help.”
The man’s gaze roamed over her, lingering on her breasts. "I didn't realize Martin had a niece, and such a beautiful one at that."
She kept her smile in place, even though she imagined telling him her eyes were on her face, not her chest. “I understand you reserved one of the penthouse suites?”
Chardy glanced at Aidan, gave him a nod of acknowledgment, then his attention bounced over to Candace and Megan. "I reserved the Crystal Breeze two months ago, and now I'm told I can't have it. I always reserve that suite. I'm supposed to have it for the whole week."
There was something in the way he acknowledged Aidan, or perhaps it was his profile, that triggered the faintest memory in the back of her mind. It was so fleeting she couldn't make sense of it.
No time to figure it out now. “Yes, of course. Unfortunately, there's a bit of a plumbing problem." She scrunched up her nose as if it were disgusting and it was better she didn't go into details. "I'm terribly sorry, but believe me, you do not want to be in that suite right now."
She waved a hand under her nose, emphasizing the fact the issue was ugly…or smelly in this case. “We have someone working on it, of course, but things are really backed up.” If you get my drift. “I’m told it's going to be a couple days before the suite is ready, but I can move you in there as soon as the problem is resolved." She leaned in close and lowered her voice. "I want to make sure it's absolutely aired out before we put you in there."
She straightened and hit him with her megawatt smile again. “What is it about that room that you love the most? I bet it's the view, isn't it?"
Before he could answer, she took his arm, nodded at Candace, and went into her sales pitch. “We have an amazing set of rooms right underneath it with the same exact view, and they’re connected. The two combined are the same size as the suite. Let me show you that combo and see if it will meet your needs. For your inconvenience, we'll take ten percent off your final bill” —she nodded at Megan to be sure the assistant took care of it— “and throw in your choice of packages for the spa."
She could see the calculations going on in his brain. Two rooms versus one, a discount, and the same view. What was there to think about?
Candace and Megan both nodded, letting Bree know the connecting rooms were open and the package would be handled. Both were flushed and seemed to be holding a collective breath.
Joey was off to the side, hiding a smile. Aidan stood behind her, but she could feel tension radiating off him as though she were violating some secret code. Either he was annoyed at Chardy’s ogling, or pissed because he knew this was going to cost him fifty bucks.
Calculations over, Chardy smiled. “Very well, I suppose I could at least have a look."
Score. “You’re going to love them," she gushed, pulling him toward the elevators. "I often prefer to stay in them when I visit, and use one solely for business,”—she glanced at his briefcase—“reserving the other for relaxation only. Helps me separate the two and reminds me not to work so much."
When he reached back to grab his luggage, Aidan stepped in. "I've got it, sir."
Chardy allowed him to take the suitcase as they walked. “Is she telling the truth? Will I be wowed by this arrangement?"
Again, that familiarity with Aidan. "Guess there's only one way to find out,” he answered.
“It’s up to my standards for security?"
Aidan nodded. “Just swept it this morning. It's clean."
Clean? Of what, listening devices? Cameras? Who was this guy? She covertly scanned his face again. That, combined with his voice, kept making her brain fire in the memory department, but she couldn't for the life of her place him.
> He caught her eyes and gave her a flirty smile, as though letting her know he knew she was snowing him. "Martin must be pleased you're here, helping him with the business."
“He’s taught me everything I know."
Chardy’s eyes darkened slightly and he nodded. "I'm sure he has, Abreena.”
The way he said her name made that memory bell go off yet again. He now looked at her as though he knew her. The familiarity in his voice was the same as he'd used on Aidan.
She would have to grill Aidan once they were alone. She punched the button and the doors immediately opened. As the three of them got in, Joey sent her a thumbs-up from the desk, Candace was grinning, and Bree glanced at Aidan behind Chardy’s back and waggled her eyebrows. His face was stone, giving her nothing in return.
Yup, he was pissed about the money. He should've known better than to bet against her.
Before the doors shut, she made a motion to Megan, signaling to send up champagne. The woman nodded quickly and began typing on her computer to forward the order to the kitchen.
On the third floor, Bree continued to play hostess, giving Chardy the tour of both rooms and talking them up. Aidan deposited the man’s suitcase near the closet of the first room and took up residence in the hallway.
In her line of work, she had to have a good memory for faces and names, yet as she showed him the view from the patio doors and led him onto the enclosed veranda overlooking the beach, she couldn't place him.
Maybe she had come across him at some other time, perhaps even here at the hotel. Some of their guests were repeats coming back year after year. He might be one of those, and from the looks of it, he definitely planned to work along with enjoying the hotel’s amenities. He kept his briefcase, even outside as he placed his hands on the railing and took a deep breath of the salt air.
“What do you think?" she asked. "Will this work for you until we can move you upstairs?"
He nodded, looking at the water before shifting his dark eyes to her. His lashes were thick and dark as well, making him appear to have eyeliner on. “I’ll try it for tonight and let you know in the morning."
There was something in those eyes, something in the smile he gave her. An invitation mixed with a little challenge. He liked her, but wasn't about to let her off the hook easily.
"I can't ask for anything else," she replied sweetly. "I appreciate your flexibility, and I promise, as soon as the plumbing upstairs is fixed and the room is up to our exceptional standards, we’ll get you moved in."
The champagne arrived, one of the busboys bringing it in to the round table near the patio door. “Thank you, Miguel," she said, stepping inside. The young man nodded and left, Chardy following on her heels.
“Compliments of the house," she said. "Please let me know if there's anything else I can help you with."
She was about to walk away when he said, “You could stay and have a glass with me."
She tried to appear surprised and flattered, but the warning bell in her head grew louder. She needed to talk to Aidan, needed to figure out why. She couldn't just beg off and say she had to get back to work. She didn't technically work here, and she needed to finish her conversation with her husband. “That’s very generous of you, but I'm afraid I can't."
No meant no, except to some men, including the one in front of her. “It would make me like this arrangement better."
Flirting and bribing her at the same time. He was smooth. She could claim an appointment, a previous engagement, but that would only give him an opening to ask her to come back later. She had to nip this in the bud without pissing him off.
Luckily, she had just the thing to do that. She pretended to be slightly remorseful as she pulled the long chain from around her neck, allowing the platinum band on the end to swing in the air. Smiling sweetly, she said, "I'm afraid my husband wouldn't like it if I did that."
Before he could say anything else, she left the room and found Aidan in the hallway, pure annoyance on his face.
Three
The first rule of spying: don’t get found out
* * *
Bree had never answered his question. He’d been fishing when he asked about the car and boyfriend, and she'd known it. No doubt she wanted to make him squirm, wondering who she was spending time with these days.
More to the point, he didn't like being used as an excuse to shut down a philanderer, when she didn't openly recognize their marriage any other time.
She kept pace with him as they left Chardy’s room and entered the elevator, neither saying anything until the doors shut.
He reached for the first floor button; she stayed his hand. “We’re going up," she said. She hit the penthouse and swiped her keycard and started their ascent. “We need to finish our earlier conversation."
Exactly what he wanted, but he found himself being disagreeable anyway. "I have to work."
She canted her body to lean against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why is Mr. Chardy so concerned with security? Why is he worried about bugs?"
Schooling his features and forcing his shoulders to relax, he met her gaze. “Why are you wearing your wedding band around your neck?"
The corners of her eyes narrowed slightly at his attempt at diversion. “We’re married, aren't we? Who is he?"
Diversion never worked with her. She'd always been skilled at carrying on multiple conversations at the same time. Unfortunately, he needed to get her off Chardy’s track or she’d blow everything. “Funny, you don't act like a married woman.”
Her eyes narrowed even more. “You realize trying to rile me up about our relationship to keep me from inquiring about our new guest only makes me want to know more about him?"
The elevator stopped at her penthouse, the doors opening directly into the gleaming foyer. He motioned for her to go ahead of him, but she shook her head. "You first."
She read his mind, figuring out his plan to go down to the main floor the moment she exited.
Damn, even after two years of hardly seeing her, she still knew him too well. Probably because she was the one who’d trained him at Camp Swampy.
His time there had been easy in comparison to SEAL training, but still a contrasting kind of world. He'd been a different man, and she'd been a ruthless trainer. At the height of her career with the Agency, she'd managed to keep their impromptu wedding a secret, their marriage unknown even to the CIA for a while, and when he’d shown up in her escape and evasion class, she never so much as blinked.
Like now, as she held the doors open, waiting for him to move first.
The two of them were like fire and ice, Aidan just wasn't sure who would survive in the end. They’d both been down and out when they met in Vegas. While she denied it, and would until her deathbed, he knew they’d saved each other. And again in Russia. `
He entered the penthouse, going to the large kitchen area. He needed caffeine. His head hurt, still hung over from the morning’s nightmare, lack of sleep, and the surprise of seeing Bree, all combined to make his muscles twitch. He heard her kick off her shoes behind him and flop down on the large couch. Once the high-end coffee maker was brewing, he turned to face her, leaning against the counter and crossing his feet at his ankles.
Play it cool. She's already suspicious, and you can't have her looking into Chardy’s background. “Etienne Chardy is a Canadian financier who visits the spa every six months or so. He deals in high-tech stocks and international investments." Among other things you don't need to know about. “His concerns regarding his room relate to cyber security and keeping his clients’ personal investment information from getting hacked. That's all."
She studied him for a long moment, the smell of premium roasted coffee filling the air between them. “Do you really need to get back to work right away?"
He felt his lungs release the air they were holding. Had he really convinced her to drop her interest in the man? "Believe it or not, even when things are slow, I have plenty to do. Your uncle has given
me more responsibilities than just security, and the off season is when we look at upgrades and revamping certain systems to work more effectively."
She stretched out her long legs, setting her feet on the coffee table. Running her fingers through her hair, she leaned her head back on the cushion and let out a deep sigh. "Okay, is there a time when you're off the clock and we can talk?"
Cooperation? Consideration? She again surprised him.
She was so damn beautiful, the red dress flowing like water over her curves. He remembered them well and dreamed about them—a different form of PTSD. The memory of her under him, on top of him, beside him, was its own brand of torture, one he was more than willing to repeat.
Those legs, those hips, those very generous breasts… every part of her, right up to her full lips and long hair made his cock twitch. His hands tingled with the need to touch her.
And that was another reason he had to get the hell out of here, put distance between them, because if he didn’t…
Clearing his throat and spinning around, he tried to shutdown thoughts of her, naked, in his bed, in a shower, in the backseat of his car. His cock grew hard, despite his best efforts, and would be an obvious giveaway about what was flooding his mind, so he made himself busy finding two mugs, even though he had no intention of staying around for a drink now.
Focusing on the bland subject of coffee, keeping his attention glued to the process of pouring it and setting the carafe back on the burner, he forced himself to breathe deeply and blank out everything else. When he once more had his body under control, the ache for her shut behind a door and his mind locked in on his escape, he casually took one and handed it to her. She accepted, blowing on the liquid to cool it before taking a sip.
"I'm officially off the clock at six.” He was generally always on call, but he was allowed to adjust as needed this time of year. “I’ll text you and we can meet up for a drink or something."