The Spy in 3B Page 2

  “One, she’s asleep. Two, I will teach her to never touch a dick. Three, don’t change the subject.”

  I made a static sound. “Oh no. Sssssss. Going through a tunnel. Sssssss. Can’t hear you. I’ll call you later.” More static.

  He glowered at me. “You’re in your damn flat. I—”

  I hung up on Liam with a chuckle. That odd, hollow feeling settled in my chest again. It wasn’t so much that I wanted Liam’s life. I liked my life. I’d had a good life. Supposedly retired from active duty after ‘incredible service.’ Her Majesty the Queen had actually said that to me. But when I took the clandestine assignment with Exodus, I had no idea what I was in for. Six years. Six years of never even really understanding how I ended up here… alone.

  Not that it wasn’t encouraged to have a family, to have a life. It actually was. It looked better for a cover. But I couldn’t get over the imminent danger I’d be imposing. But still, Exodus fully encouraged all employees to ‘look the part.’ Which meant having a girlfriend. A wife. And it wasn’t the lying that held me back. I could lie all day. I looked at it as putting on a new skin. It was more that I wanted just one person I could be real with. One person I didn’t have to pretend with. Was it so wrong that I actually wanted to care about someone? To actually want a connection with them?

  Not to mention, my life was too dangerous, period. What if I couldn’t keep them safe?

  Connection gets people killed.

  Which was probably why I’d been dragging my feet about this date with my neighbor. I’d joined a dating app, just to make it look like I was complying. I didn’t want Exodus in my love life any more than I wanted my mother in it, but a few dates here and there kept up appearances.

  Except the dating app I’d picked seemed to fall a little short. It had paired me with a woman who lived across the way in my building. And don’t get me wrong; she was a stunner. A full mouth, light brown skin, a mass of curls that looked like they desperately needed tugging, and the kind of smile that could stop your heart. Not to mention her body. Jesus Christ, her fucking body. Curves that had to be cupped. Long athletic legs. She also had this quiet strength about her.

  But despite her meeting every criteria I’d given the app, on our dates, she was… I didn’t know how to describe it… all surface. I didn’t need some kind of heavy emotional connection to want into her knickers, but fuck, some connection would have been nice. And to make matters worse, I could tell she wasn’t exactly enthused by me either. It wasn’t like I could actually be myself.

  Our first two dates had been interrupted. The first when she’d had some work emergency. A pop star needed some crisis managed, so she’d run off from our bowling date with her phone to her ear. Just as well, since she’d been kicking my arse.

  During our second date, Exodus had gotten a lead on the terrorist, Mikhail Bronstein. It was all hands on deck, so I’d been called in just after our movie at Griffith Observatory and hadn’t even gotten to kiss her properly. The best excuse I could make under the circumstances was to feign food poisoning and put her in a cab without me. She’d almost refused and wanted to accompany me to the hospital. I was surprised she’d even agreed to a third date after that, but she came by the next day with soup and saltines and a sports drink to help with the dehydration for the food poisoning I didn’t really have. I found I wanted to see her again.

  She was just a straightforward, good person. The kind of person I should be with under other circumstances. To her, I was Marcus Black, a video game designer. It was a great cover and the kind of job that allowed me to travel but mostly work from home. And it was low profile. It gave me all sorts of reasons to not be available. It would be difficult to lie to her though.

  There was a knock on my door, and I frowned. My other neighbor, Mrs. Washington, liked to check on me a lot. She’d always been a little nosy, which frankly, I didn’t mind because I knew she was just lonely. But she had a tendency to chat for long periods, and as I had a date that night with Lyra, I didn’t really have time. But still, I went to the door because she was a nice old lady who tried hard.

  But when I checked the security monitor, I frowned then reluctantly dragged the door open to find my best mate and partner, Rhodes Matheson. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to give you a pep talk for your date.”

  I frowned. “You know I don’t need a pep talk, right?”

  Rhodes shoved by me regardless. “Yes, you do. You know Exodus doesn’t like it when our agents don’t comply.”

  I frowned. “They’re saying I’m being uncompliant?”

  He laughed. “Nah, I was just messing with you.”

  I flipped him off as I jogged into my bedroom to grab my jumper.

  I didn’t want to go too formal. It was our third date. I didn’t want to signal that I expected anything from her.

  I was under the distinct impression she had made up her mind about me. Hell, we hadn’t even kissed.

  I yelled at Rhodes from the bedroom. “Don’t be a twat. I know it’s hard for you but just try.”

  He chuckled at that. “Nah. I was actually here to pick up the SRP case file.”

  Sangita Rollins Polytech. One of their prominent physicists had vanished. My team was meant to find her and bring her back. I’d been doing a data analysis. And since it was an off-book mission. the senior board at Exodus wanted it untraceable, so we had paper files.

  I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Analysis is on my desk. I’ve memorized the profile.”

  I could almost hear his eye roll as I checked my appearance in my mirror. “Damn you and your photographic memory,” he said. “Do you have everything you need?”

  “I could use more ammo.”

  “I brought you a pack from Andreas.”

  “Excellent.” Andreas Tomms was our weapons guy. Normally a courier delivered our packs to us, everything we needed. We only went to headquarters for briefings, training, and evaluations. Once our missions were assigned, we were left on our own. Like independent contractors.

  “So, is tonight the night?”

  The way he said it in that sing-song voice made me want to smack him. “Not the way you think, I’m sure.”

  “What, you don’t like her? The Marcus I knew had such a way with the ladies.” He grinned briefly, then his expression turned serious as he added, “It’s been a long time since Simone.”

  I swallowed the pang of pain. “I know. My other problem is I get the feeling she can see that I’m lying through my teeth.”

  Rhodes appeared in the doorframe of my bedroom as I pulled out a long-sleeved black sweater. Not too formal, not too casual. Dressed up just enough.

  He studied me up and down. “You’re a looker, bro. It should be easy.”

  I still couldn’t get used to Rhodes’s American accent. He was just as British as I was, but the accent was part of his cover in Los Angeles. The missions he worked on and the government officials he often worked with expected Rhodes Matheson, who was very much an American. Marcus Black was British, which at least made my life easier. It was one thing to use an accent for a mission, maybe a day or two. But to live fully American, that was brutal.

  Rhodes was engaged, but his fiancée didn’t seem to notice that everything wasn’t quite as it seemed. We were all pretenders.

  “Just remember, you need to be a gentleman, bro.”

  I scowled. “I am a gentleman.”

  “No, a gentleman eats, sleeps, and fucks. You, Marcus, are a soldier. For you, it’s eat, sleep, mission. No fucking. No smoothing the rough edges. You have to change your mindset. Release the pressure valve.”

  I was smooth, damn it. “Fine. I’ll smooth the edges.” I had been a little twitchy lately.

  “I’m telling you, bro, it’ll be a lot easier.”

  I sighed. “Can you go now? You’re going to make me late.”

  “Do you have condoms?”

  I pointed at the door. “Out.”

  He chuckled.
“I’m gonna take this beer with me.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Rhodes, you can’t drink and drive here.”

  “I’m walking.” He winked.

  “Pretty sure there’s an ordinance against having an open container too.”

  He shrugged and then turned up the beer bottle, chugging the full contents.

  He dangled the empty bottle in front of me. “Happy now?”

  “Yeah, fine. Go.”

  He nodded, touched me on the shoulder as a conveyance of good luck, and walked out the door. Then I was off to meet Lyra.

  She’d told me she’d be coming from work, so I had picked a place between our flat and her office. She worked at this marketing and PR company in downtown Culver City that was ten blocks away from our building. Most days I watched her as she’d take her route to work. Sometimes she would drive, not often though. Occasionally she would detour and go the other way. Not that I paid that much attention to her.

  Sure, you don’t.

  I’d only been sitting outside the bistro for three minutes when Lyra rounded the corner. The white flared skirt she wore flirted and skimmed her thighs with every step. She carried some kind of printed orange, pink and yellow clutch. Her fuchsia wrap top lifted her breasts high enough to tease and make my mouth water. The V of her top along with the strip of belly showing tempted my brain into all kinds of inventive lasciviousness. But I worked hard to keep my gaze on her and not the mouthwatering glimpses of deep brown skin.

  Christ, she looked good enough to eat.

  More like devour.

  When she saw me, she gave me a wave, and I watched as she inhaled deeply and then let out a long breath. Then her smile broadened as she started across the street. Nerves?

  Something tripped over my skin when she was mere steps away. It was like the breeze wafted her lime and coconut shampoo my way. Bloody hell, she smelled good. She always had. I only wished I was the shag she wanted, but then Rhodes’s impromptu pep talk reminded me that there was more at stake than just wanting to shag a pretty girl. If the boss was aware of me not toeing the company line, there would be hell to pay, and I didn’t want that.

  I liked a quiet life where I could focus on my career.

  You mean where you can hide.

  I was going to need to sort this out.

  When she reached me, she extended her arms, and I stood and gave her a hug. In moments like that, when I was touching her, when she was close and I could smell her scent wrapped around me like a boa constrictor claiming me as her own, I felt like hell fucking yes, I can do this whole relationship thing. Her softness was something that called to me. Made a part of my brain believe this could be real.

  Then she stepped back, giving me a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, and that was it. As the scent of coconut and lime teased me, my gaze focused on her full, very bitable lips. How was it we hadn’t even kissed yet?

  How was it I hadn’t licked into her mouth and found out all her secrets? How was it I’d never heard her moan?

  Fuck. I swallowed hard. I was going to have to think about that because the way I wanted to kiss her might lead to some loss of control. “Hey, you’re looking well.”

  Her smile was bright. “You too. You look good in black. You feeling better?”

  I frowned, then forced my expression to relax as I remembered my food poisoning cover story. “Much. Maybe we’ll actually get to finish this date.”

  She laughed at that. “Please, don’t jinx it.”

  When the conversation was surface topics, things were easy. Relaxed. Familiar. Like I could do this with her. But once we sat down and I asked about her work, I felt like I was getting a presentation. Like the woman whom I wanted to get to know, the one with the knockout scent who harnessed the sun in her smile, took a backseat and was replaced by a completely different woman. One who, while perfectly nice—engaging even—was not real somehow. Maybe I was projecting. Because hell, I wasn’t real. I was a bloody Tin Man.

  And then, of course, she said, “How is work going? You are designing your own game, right?”

  I knew exactly which Marcus suit to access. We got briefs weekly with work notes to memorize so we could better play real people. “It’s great. I ran into some difficulties, but in the end, I got it working. It’s boring, I know.”

  “No,” she said enthusiastically. “It’s not boring at all. I want to hear about what you do.”

  The irony of it was that, if push came to shove, I could probably put some sort of game together. I’d been trained in the field. I had a photographic memory. It wasn’t super complex, but I didn’t actually do the job, so it made lying about it difficult.

  “You were telling me that your brother had a baby. A son, right?”

  I sighed. “A baby boy.” Liam had a girl. Using real details was encouraged, but just bits and pieces of them. We were trained to keep things similar but blurred.

  Once dessert was served, my heart started to beat faster. It was time that we figured out if we were going to keep doing this. I liked her, but would it be awkward if we just stopped?

  Would it be awkward for you? Find something you like about this woman. Make it stick.

  After I paid the check and we left the restaurant, I took her hand.

  It was the quickest movement, but her gaze flickered down to our joined hands. The smile she gave me was bright, warm, inviting. But her eyes were wary. Searching.

  Did she find what she was looking for? Most people would have believed the façade, but not Lyra. If I knew what was good for me, I would pick someone else. Someone easier. There was nothing easy about Lyra. She was looking for the real me, but she wasn’t going to find it. That would be dangerous for the both of us.

  But still, she let me hold her hand and comfortably fit her small, delicate one in mine. The electric hum that snaked up my arm was almost impossible to ignore. The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted her.

  When we reached the community garden in the park near our building, I stopped her. “So I’ve been thinking. It’s the third date.” I watched her visibly swallow, hard.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really nervous.”

  That moment of realness made me grin. “There’s probably no need to be nervous.”

  Her brows lifted, and then she blinked rapidly in surprise. “Oh, right, yeah. Sure, totally. We can just be friends.”

  Friends? I shook my head. For some reason, I had an aversion to that idea. “No, I meant before we—you know, get nervous about anything else, maybe we should kiss first?”

  She choked out a laugh. “Oh my God, I’m like the worst date ever. I’m all stiff and awkward, then I proposition you.”

  I laughed. “No. We’ve been busy and then on our first date, you got called for a work emergency.”

  She winced. “I’m really sorry about that. And well, you were sick the next time.”

  Right… sick. “We could try it now.” My voice sounded like someone had put it through a cement mixer.

  You’ve been staring at her lips all through dinner, wondering if one kiss will tell you how this is supposed to go.

  The community garden was helping me out with ambiance. It had tea lights strung around the trees inside. I’d helped with planting some of the flowers earlier in the year, and they had all started to bloom now. It was the perfect romantic spot for a kiss.

  “Oh, right, yeah. L-let’s do this.”

  There was something endearing about her. She was tiny compared to me. Five foot six or seven. I couldn’t tell properly because she was almost always wearing heels. Either way, I towered over her. I stood six foot three, so I had a tendency to do that to everyone. She was lean, slender but curvy. Great arse. The kind you could really dig your hands into.

  And slap.

  I cleared my throat to erase that mental imagery. Nope. I would not think about slapping her arse. I would not think about her arse at all. This was just a kiss.

  I would kiss her and see if she was okay with that. And then lat
er—much later—I’d think about slapping her arse. Maybe doing other things to her arse, but that was beside the point.

  She stepped in, her scent making me dizzy, coaxing me to lean in, get a whiff, and become ensnared in her trap forever. I took her arm, sliding my fingers along her soft, supple skin until my thumb reached her wrist and paused at the pulse point. I could feel the uptake as I gently rubbed that spot. Something stirred deep inside me as an answer to that rapid flutter. And then her other arm wrapped around my neck and she whispered, “Okay, Marcus Black, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  I grinned then, and holy shit, as I leaned down and she leaned up, the scent of her, the feel of her against me, caused everything else to fade away. Black out our surroundings. Just fade to black.

  She tasted sweet, like the plum cocktail she’d had at dinner. But there was something else. A hint of spice that was all her. When her tongue met mine, I stopped thinking and let the tingling, snapping heat fry my synapses. Her lips were soft and yielding. Then she whimpered, and all the blood went straight to my dick.

  The hairs at the back of my neck stood at attention. And every instinct I had in me told me to take cover. Everything in me told me this was dangerous. That she was dangerous. And suddenly, we were knocked off our feet.

  Literally.

  I protected her with my body as we both toppled over.

  Tackled.

  I quickly cradled her head as I rolled over her, reaching for my ankle holster before I remembered I was out in public with a woman who didn’t know I carried a gun.

  Pulling back, I assessed her quietly. “Look at me. Are you okay?”

  Her eyes were wide, and she looked like she needed a moment to recover. “Son of a bitch. He just took my purse.”

  And before I could stop her, she jumped up and took off sprinting after the mugger in the darkened park with her stilettos in hand.

  Well, hell.

  Chapter 2

  Marcus

  Fuck me. She was fast.

  I’d never seen her running. Maybe she used the treadmill in the gym?

  I never ran into her there. Nor had I noticed her coming back from a workout.