by W. J. May
“Your suite?” Devon repeated, trying and failing to understand.
White clapped him on the shoulder with an indulgent grin. “That’s right. Just you, me, Meg, and a couple of the girls. We’ll order up some champagne and make a night of it. What do you say?”
Rae was still completely lost, but it looked like Devon was beginning to catch on. His entire body stiffened and he stepped them both back out of reach.
“That’s…quite an offer. But Meg and I actually have other plans. Thanks.”
For the first time all night, White looked disappointed and stepped toward them. “Are you sure?” He flipped back a stray lock of Rae’s hair then squeezed Devon on the shoulder. “I’m sure I could make it worth your while.”
Rae had the fight the urge to throw a little Molly shock up this idiot’s arm, followed by a stab of her stiletto. “Yep!” she answered in a high-pitched voice. “Totally sure!” She grabbed Devon by the wrist and backed them away into the crowd. “But…uh…thanks for the dance!”
They didn’t stop moving until they were up the grand staircase and back in the elevator that led to the rooms. The second the door closed, they pulled away. When Devon turned to her with a disapproving scowl, Rae fell back against the wall in uncontrollable fits of laughter.
His glare turned to a look of utter astonishment as he watched her gasp for air. “What…the hell is wrong with you? Why are you laughing right now?”
“Devon,” she hiccupped, wiping a tear from her face, “how are you not laughing right now?”
“He just—”
“Yeah—he just invited us to have some kind of drunken orgy.” Another wave of giggles crumbled her back against the wall. “It’s freaking hilarious! You should have seen your face!”
Devon failed to see the humor. “How the hell is it hilarious?! The man wanted to have sex with you!”
“And you!” Rae added, smoothing down her dress as she straightened up. “And like you’re one to judge.” Her smile sharpened dramatically. “Isn’t that exactly what you were counting on when you swept me onto the dance floor?”
His cheeks flushed pink, and he realized he’d been caught. His dark hair spilled into his face as he bowed his head with a smile that showed that adorable dimple Rae was trying so hard to forget. “Alright, yeah. I knew he’d inevitably wander over and it’d be the perfect opportunity to place the bug. But I didn’t want you to dance with him—let alone laugh at his offer for sex,” he added quickly. “I didn’t even want you to shake that asshole’s hand…”
Rae shook her head, still grinning at the bizarre happenings of the night. Then something he said circled back to her, and she shot him an inquisitive glance. “Wait a sec. Why exactly did you think he would inevitably wander over? You saw all those girls circling around him. That seems like a pretty big chance to take, considering this is a mission and all.”
Much to her surprise, Devon’s face softened tenderly and he looked almost sympathetic.
“Come on, Kerrigan, when are you going to look in the mirror and see yourself clearly? You’re ten times lovelier than any of those pathetic groupies. Having White see you dance was one of the only things I could count on tonight.”
Rae’s heart skipped a beat, and she lowered her face. Way to keep things professional…
This was exactly what she’d been talking about to Jackman. How the hell was she supposed to know where the lines were, when they’d been so irrevocably blurred? Here, she and Devon were supposed to be treating each other like agents, but then he goes and says something perfect like that? And look at her the way he was right now. What on earth am I supposed to do with that?!
“That’s…” she cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, that’s…” There was a ding, and she jerked her head up to see that they’d stopped at the top floor. She hadn’t even seen Devon press the button, and now here they were. Saved by the bell. Go-time.
“You ready to earn your government paycheck?” he teased, looking at her with just the slightest bit of apprehension.
She turned around without the slightest hesitation. “Can you help me take off this dress?”
He froze. “Uh…what?”
“The zipper, Devon,” she gestured impatiently. “Can you help me with the zipper?”
With incredibly hesitant hands, he pulled it down a couple of inches before she took over the rest. A moment later, she’d peeled off the gown entirely to reveal a sleek black jumpsuit underneath. It was leather and tightly fitted, perfect for this sort of reconnaissance. Sure, it didn’t have sleeves like she would have preferred, but hey—fashion was pain, right?
“Alright,” she gathered her hair into a ponytail, and secured it firmly in place, “ready.’’
He still didn’t move.
“Devon,” she said after another moment, gesturing to the door, “let’s go.”
“What?” He blinked then opened it in a rush. “Yeah, let’s…let’s go.”
* *
You know how some people say that you can tell a dog just by looking at its owner? Well, after meeting Jackman White—it was clear that they were standing in his office.
There wasn’t an inch of the floor that wasn’t littered with empty champagne bottles, cigar ash, scattered bits of lingerie, and enough empty tins of caviar to feed a small army.
Rae picked through it in disgust. “Didn’t he only get in, like, two days ago?”
“The man likes to party,” Devon answered, glancing discreetly away as he moved a rhinestone bra to the side with his shoe. “Something you were given the chance to see up close and personal tonight, if you had so desired.”
“Damn,” she snapped her fingers, “just my luck.”
While Devon checked behind the paintings hanging on the wall for a mounted safe, Rae made a beeline for the desk. It was locked—big surprise—but thanks to Ethan’s conjuring ink, she had only to look at the bolt before the key appeared in her hand.
“Dev,” she called, rifling through the first few files, “I think I have something over here.”
There was a blur of color, then he was kneeling by her side.
“Mallins was right,” he said in mild surprise. “This guy has been bankrolling Xavier Knight operations for the last seven years.”
“You didn’t think he had?” Rae asked, taking out her phone and snapping a few pictures.
“Honestly…” Devon shook his head. “He didn’t seem like the type. The man’s a Texan billionaire. What does he care what a bunch of supernatural English freaks do with their time?”
Rae giggled and continued snapping pictures as he flipped through the files. “He doesn’t have a tatù. I’d have picked it up when I shook his hand.”
“According to the files, neither does anyone in his family. I’ve no idea how he could have gotten involved with something like this.”
She photographed the last page and slipped the memory card into her pocket. “Well, you know who we could ask, don’t you?”
Devon stared for a minute, before abruptly shaking his head. “No, we can’t involve Luke.”
“Why the hell not? He wouldn’t mind.” In the back of her mind, she knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask him.
“We may be his friends, but that’s his job, Rae. I’m sure he’d tell us if we were in any sort of danger, but whether he’s dating Molly or not, we’re on different sides.” He didn’t mention when Rae dated him very, very briefly, but somehow she knew he was thinking it.
Rae scoffed. “If it can help us... it wouldn’t hurt to ask. He’ll say no if it’s information he can’t share.”
Devon shook his head. “We’re not asking.” When Rae opened her mouth, he cut her off before she could speak. “Not to mention, Carter isn’t the only one who’s going to be checking our mission reports from now on. Do you want to be the one to explain to Mallins how we found out confidential Knights information? Risk Luke getting into trouble? Losing his job?”
“Uh…I’ll take a pa
ss.”
“That’s what I thought.” He grinned, locking the desk as he shut it. “Now, if we can just get to the door without disturbing White’s labyrinth of debauchery, I think we’re in the clear—”
No sooner had he spoken than a metallic beep only Rae and Devon would hear sounded from the hall. In what felt like slow motion, they both looked up in horror to see the lock on the door slowly turn.
Rae didn’t have time to think. Didn’t have time to plan. She didn’t even have time to consider how extremely awkward this next part would be.
All she had time to do was grab Devon by the arms and dive underneath the bed.
Chapter 9
“What the hell are you doing?!”
Rae clapped a hand over Devon’s mouth and froze. Together, the two of them peered out from the shadows to see one pair of heavy shoes and two pairs of stilettos stumble drunkenly into the room. There was the sound of high-pitched giggling, followed by White’s booming laugh.
This is bad…on so many levels.
Over the last few years, Rae had been in bed with Devon. She’d yet to be underneath one. It was an entirely different experience.
As the feet tripped and teetered their way towards the bar, Rae glanced down for the first time. She was lying completely on top of Devon, her body pressed tightly against his with one hand still pressed firmly over his mouth. Thank goodness for high beds and bed skirts. What if the damn hotel had just used a box and they hadn’t been able to hide under it? She removed her hand with an apologetic grimace and switched into Maria’s telepathy. Sorry—there wasn’t time for anything else. I didn’t know what else to do…
His eyes met hers and he nodded swiftly.
Then they both glanced down at their rather compromising position.
Sorry about that, too… Even her mental voice sounded embarrassed, she realized with humiliation. But hey, we’re supposed to be newlyweds, right? His eyes met hers with a wry grin and she flushed a million shades of red. I can try to move—
But at that moment, White and his ladies took their party to the bedroom. There was a loud thud and the springs above their heads creaked and strained as the three drunks fell onto the bed.
Rae paled in fear and tried to shimmy to the side, but Devon’s hands held her tight.
“Don’t move,” he mouthed, tapping his ear. “They’ll hear.”
She reluctantly obeyed, but as White rolled over on the mattress the springs caved in and the entire thing pushed into her back—pressing her even tighter into Devon. He wound his hands protectively around her so the metal wouldn’t cut, and tried to make himself as small as possible to give her all the room he could.
It still wasn’t very much.
Only in times of extreme intimacy had the two of them ever been this close. To be perfectly honest, Rae figured this was even a bit closer than that. So close it was almost painful. Not physically painful… but the other kind. The kind that needed what was going on top of the bed to fix.
They were cheek to cheek—Devon looking up, and Rae staring down—and their bodies were squeezed in so tight that they began automatically timing out their breathing. First one would breathe, then the other. There wasn’t enough room for them both to do it at the same time.
After what seemed like an eternity, and accompanied by some disgusting kissing sounds, the trio shifted slightly and Rae was able to lift her head slightly. She drew in a silent breath of relief, but when she looked down she saw Devon grinning up at her.
What?! she asked, slipping back into the telepathy. What the hell could you possibly be smiling at right now?!
His eyes somehow twinkled even in the dark.
“Keeping things professional…” he whispered.
She bowed her head with silent laughter, touching their foreheads together. Then, regardless of the squeeze, Devon somehow managed to shift his arm around and lace his fingers through hers.
Her eyes locked onto him in surprise, watching as he rubbed gentle circles on her knuckles with his thumb. He took his time, ignoring her pointed stare as he stroked up and down, re-exploring the same hand he’d held for years.
What…was this now?
A tiny shiver ran up her spine and she bit her lip and turned her head, ashamed that he’d be able to feel it. A pair of fingers caught her gently below the chin and turned her back. He shook his head thoughtfully, while his eyes silently asked her to stay.
She could hardly breathe. She could hardly think. All she could do was stare back at him, wondering what in the world was going on inside that beautiful head of his.
Then, before she could ask, there was the sound of ripping fabric followed by a dull groan.
Devon closed his eyes with a wince, while Rae buried her face in his chest.
Please, oh please. If I’ve stored up any amount of good karma, let me use it now. Let this not be happening.
She wasn’t sure if she’d projected the thoughts or not, but either way Devon shook beneath her with stifled laughter. The moaning picked up, as did the breathing, and the springs above their heads squeaked with sickening regularity.
When one of them jabbed her ferociously in the back, she looked down at him and bit back a cry. Her healing tatù quickly fixed the pain.
Worst. Mission. Ever.
He shrugged, and lowered his voice to a mischievous whisper. “It has its perks.” His fingers squeezed hers softly, and she realized he was still holding her hand.
They lay there for a while longer, enduring it as best they could. She was warm, hotter on the inside than out. It didn’t help that the bed motion above them was hitting her hips and pressing them into Devon in a consistent, rhythmic pattern. She ran her tongue over her top lip and watched Devon’s eyes drop down to her mouth. Did he want to kiss her as badly as she wanted to kiss him? She pressed her lips lightly together and saw him swallow hard. Screw it! All she had to do was move her head slightly, and their lips would touch. Chemistry would take over the rest of it. They could deal with the repercussions later. One kiss. Just one taste of his tongue in her mouth. She closed her eyes and—
“How about it, sexy ladies? Shall we continue this in the shower?” White’s voice seemed right beside Rae’s ear.
She popped her eyes open and sighed in relief as the bed shifted and bumped. A second later, three pairs of feet shuffled quickly to the bathroom. Not taking any chances, Rae stayed perfectly still until the sound of laughter and running water drowned out any noise she and Devon could possibly make. When the trio was finally in full swing, she pushed herself tentatively to the side.
Two hands stopped her.
Her eyes snapped back to Devon in a question, but he was staring at her with an expression so intense she honestly had no way to interpret it. Keeping his eyes on her all the while, he turned his head a little so their lips were even closer than before.
There wasn’t a sound between them, save for the whisper of shallow breathing. In fact, the entire world seemed to fade away as they stared into each other’s eyes.
Then he lifted his head, and kissed her.
* * *
They were able so slip out of the penthouse with relative ease, and even though they still had the room rented for the night, neither one of them seemed particularly eager to stay. It was as though just the thought was an unexpected pressure, looming over the both of them.
Would they? Wouldn’t they? Didn’t that effectively demolish the idea of agent boundaries?
The questions were all settled decisively when they began packing immediately upon returning to their room.
As Rae tossed handfuls of clothes into her bag—the bag it felt like she had just started packing a few hours before—she replayed it over and over again in her mind.
The way he’d leaned forward and slipped his hand into her hair. The ways his lips had parted hers with expert familiarity. The way the kiss had deepened like the most natural thing in the world, and the way their bodies had melded together.
But that’
s not the whole story, Rae, she told herself firmly. Play it through.
And she was right. Because while the kiss itself might have been perfection, the second they pulled apart everything started to unravel…
She recalled the look in Devon’s eyes as he’d stared up at her. It was as if he was being literally torn in two. A part of him wanted nothing more than to keep going, but another part, just as strong, pulled away. Although he had initiated the whole thing, he seemed as caught off guard by his behavior as she was, and the second they were free of the bed he couldn’t get away fast enough.
Even as she heard the frantic sounds of his packing, she wondered if he was regretting his decision. It wasn’t like the thing had been planned. And it certainly didn’t follow along with their new strategy of ‘professionalism to a fault.’
“Rae?”
She jumped a mile at the soft voice, and turned around to see him standing nervously in the doorway. “Hey…” she tucked her hair behind her ears. “Sorry; you scared me.”
He took a deep breath and glanced down at the bed, avoiding her eyes. “So I think it’s probably best we just head back tonight. Is that cool with you?”
“Well, yeah,” she glanced down at her suitcase. “I was kind of planning on it.”
His eyes snapped up sharply. “You were?”
“You certainly were,” she shot back accusingly.
It hung in the air between them for a moment, then they let it go.
“I’ll get the car and meet you downstairs,” he said, sighing.
“That’s fine,” she replied in the same soft monotone.
Then he was gone.
She stared at the door for a long while after he’d left, wondering how, in this crazy ‘professional’ mission, things had gone so far off the rails. How were they going to get back on track?
The ride back to Privy Council had never seemed so long. It was long after midnight by the time they finally pulled into Guilder, but all the lights in the Oratory were still on. Rae followed Devon inside without a word, the pictures she’d taken tucked safely into her bag. She didn’t know exactly how they were going to debrief on this one, but she was content to let him take the lead. With any luck, Mallins wouldn’t press too hard.
