It was nearly two nights later when Synek finally came to her and told her to get ready.

Iris wasn’t sure what the wait was for exactly, but she hadn’t questioned his disappearing for a few hours at a time, only to return and disappear into his room again. She’d thought he had every intention of just leaving her there while he went off and hunted the Wraiths.

And strangest of all, she found herself waiting for the moments when he came back, when she heard the door open and close before the sound of his boots on the stairs had her blowing out a breath in relief.

She wasn’t supposed to feel relief that he was back.

She didn’t need to be thinking about him period, but that didn’t stop her from waiting. It didn’t stop her from thinking about him when she should have been working.

Even when he’d come in her room to tell her they were going after Ricky, she’d been thinking about him. And maybe, if she had been working, the sight of him in war gear might not have surprised her as much as it did.

He hadn’t made a sound when he came in. Not even the door had squeaked before the sight of him greeted her. Instead of the grunge Wraith he usually dressed like, now he looked more like a mercenary in his bulletproof vest and gear.

What was it about him that commanded so much attention—her attention. She’d easily ignored the opposite sex for years, yet he had managed to get under her skin without trying.

It didn’t make sense.

Iris dressed in a blur before joining him downstairs, coming up short as his expression went from relaxed to intense in a matter of seconds.

“What do you think?” she asked, worried what his answer might be considering the way he was looking at her. She didn’t have much with her, limited by what little wardrobe she’d brought with her from her apartment, but a little black dress never failed, nor the black lace beneath it.

“Is this what you do? Dress up like a man’s wet dream to lower his guard.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of the question, simply because she wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say.

“That was my job, yes,” she answered, figuring the truth couldn’t hurt her now. “It was a role I had to play.”

He came closer, slipping on a pair of leather gloves. “None of it’s real then?”

“Not always.”

She hadn’t meant to slip and tell him as much.

“Mmm.”

That sound.

That delicious little sound that wasn’t supposed to be sexual in any way but immediately dragged her back to that night. She wasn’t supposed to drink with him, or engage with him any more than it took for her to get him to the extraction point, and she definitely should have never let him pin her to a wall and kiss her.

She remembered everything about that night with stark clarity.

“Just a job,” she said in a tiny voice, wishing she could inject some strength into those words.

His smile was equal parts warm and challenging. “We’ll see.”

* * *

Contrary to what she’d thought before, there wouldn’t be another mercenary joining them.

Instead, after she was ready and they had left the brownstone, Synek had stopped by a loft in Brooklyn where he picked up a number of gadgets he tucked away inside a backpack.

One she recognized as a mini camera, then comms, and finally, what looked like a portable scanner, but not in a common sense. It could have easily been mistaken for just a card holder had he not shown her how it worked.

“When you get the chance, scan his card, and I’ll be able to make a key to his room remotely.”

The corner of her lips turned up in surprise. “Where do I get one of those?”

“Celt’s your guy. He loves all this shit.”

Maybe once this thing with the Wraiths was over, she’d see if she could procure one for when she went after Spader.

“Take it easy, yeah?” he said once she readied to exit the car, passing her one of the earpieces to wear. “And if you need me, don’t try to handle it all on your own.”

“Don’t worry yourself, Syn. This isn’t my first time.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat that made her smile as she stepped out of the car, adjusting the long coat she wore that did very little to hide her black dress.

Men, both young and old, responded to red for reasons she never cared to know—so long as it worked in her favor, she didn’t need to know the specifics. Even Synek, who’d reacted just as strongly when she’d worn tight jeans, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her as she walked toward the entrance of the hotel.

By the time she was nodding at the doorman, he was only just pulling away from the curb and around the building.

The lobby was warmly lit, yellow light reflecting off the beige tiled floors and antique wallpaper. Iris had never been in this particular hotel, though she had always longed to visit when she was a little girl. It was as beautiful now as it had been then, reminding her of the opulence of a palace within the four walls of a staccato building in the city.

She was surprised any of the Wraiths would be holed away inside this place—especially with what she knew about them—but she understood why when she got her first look at Ricky sitting at the bar, entertaining a young girl standing to his right in towering heels and a barely there dress.

There was no leather on any part of his body. He wore an expensive looking suit that was about a size too big for his frame, reminding her more of the gangsters of old rather than a modern criminal. Thinning dark hair was combed back extremely, only highlighting the sheen of his forehead.

She could see the hints of the Wraiths beneath the careful veneer—his stare was a little too pointed, a few scars decorating the underside of his jaw whenever he jerked his head up.

He was also several years older than Synek was, and if she’d had to choose who she would rather send on a job, it would have definitely been Synek.

Looking away from him, she focused on the chair opposite him, casually removing her coat as she went, knowing the moment his eyes came to her. She could practically feel his stare as she crossed the room, sliding onto a stool two down from his own. From the moment she sat down, she never took her gaze off the bartender polishing a glass behind the bar who stared unabashedly down the front of her dress.

“You’d think he’d never seen a pair of tits before,” an annoyed voice barked in her ear.

It was almost disconcerting having Synek in her ear—the way it almost felt as if he was right there, whispering in her ear. “Club soda,” she ordered with a smile, waiting until he was busy making her drink to respond to Synek softly, “I don’t see how that’s remotely helpful. And if I recall, you were just as captivated.”

Beyond his annoying commentary, she was thankful that the camera he’d carefully placed on her was working if he could see the bartender staring at her breasts.

“Never said it wasn’t a good rack, dove,” he said wryly.

She was sure he was the only one who could manage to make that sound like a compliment rather than a smarmy remark.

But she didn’t have time to entertain his words, not when Ricky had sent away the girl he was sitting with and moved closer to her. He didn’t ask if he could join her, nor did he attempt to hide that the only interest he had in her was the body she had covered in black silk.

Already, she was resisting the urge to frown and smack that look off his face, but she pressed her thumbnail into the palm of her hand—a reminder that she had a job to do and couldn’t afford to fail it.

She could do this.

Think of Synek.

The thought struck her out of nowhere, making her vastly more aware that she still wore the earpiece and the very man she was thinking about was sitting somewhere not too far away. He couldn’t very well hear her thoughts, but that didn’t stop her from picturing the smug look he’d give her if he knew.

Worse, picturing him in front of her instead of Ricky was better than the reality. She could almost imagine his profile—the sharp cut of his jaw, dark hair she’d shamelessly imagined touching, and even the cigarette he always had tucked behind his ear.

The visual made her feel warm all over, her stomach twisty from fluttering butterflies.

Shit.

She was attracted to him, and not just in the casual way she found most people who were nice to look at.

It was him.

The way his features were just a little too rough and a little too menacing to be considered classically handsome. Or how his eyes came alive when he was furious, and that muscle would jump in his jaw when he was grinding his teeth.

No, what she felt had transformed from simple appreciation to a burning awareness that was getting out of control.

Shit.

“What brings a girl like you here?” Ricky asked, drawing her from her tumultuous thoughts and back to him.

Synek had asked her something similar the first night they met—a meeting that should have knocked some sense into her. “I could use the company.”

She couldn’t be sure he’d actually heard a word she said with the way he was nodding absently down the front of her dress. While he was distracted, she noticed the key to his room on the bar next to his drink. Now would be the perfect chance …

“I was thinking,” she murmured, leaning farther into him, brushing her arm along his shoulder as she reached just past him for the key. His gaze flickered briefly to her face, maybe seeing her for the first time, before he licked his lips and dropped his eyes back down. “Why don’t we go back to your room to finish this?”

Deftly, she slid the card into the scanner, keeping him occupied long enough for a green light to briefly flash and Synek’s voice to sound in her ear. “Heading up now.”

Absolutely,” Ricky said as she slipped his key back where it had sat before.

He downed the last of his drink, then grabbed her hand before she could change her mind and practically dragged her off the stool.

“We’re going up now?” she asked, more for Synek’s benefit than her own.

Ricky frowned at her, shaking his head as if he thought she just wasn’t that bright. “Yeah, and you’re going to show me what’s up under that skirt.”

“Fucking hell, is this what they’re all like?” Synek asked, sounding reproachful. “Had you given me another minute, I’d’ve had your knickers around your knees without having to utter a word.”

Now, more than ever, she desperately wished Synek couldn’t hear what was being said. Not only because he was incredibly distracting, but because what he said was true. Even as she’d only considered him a job then, something about him had called to the part of herself she’d long thought nonexistent.

Luckily, Ricky didn’t seem to notice her inner dilemma as he stabbed his finger against the button for the elevator, practically shoving her inside once the doors opened.

“He keeps his hands to himself, clear?”

Iris narrowed her eyes at the mirrored wall of the elevator, knowing he could see her. He knew she couldn’t respond or else he’d never have said it.

“I’m the jealous sort,” he replied a moment later, and despite herself, her lips twitched in a semblance of a smile.

As the doors opened on the 17th floor, Ricky stepped out first, the predatory smile on his face growing as they neared his room. She was surprised to find him without guards of some kind. If he was as high up as Synek proclaimed him to be, then why didn’t he have people?

But when he gave a brief pause, making her wonder how much truth there was to that thought, he seemed to think better of it and opened the door, leading her inside.

A bathroom to her left and a sitting room to her right was all she could see of her surroundings before he was shoving her back hard against the wall, his mouth coming down hard on hers. She could taste the whiskey he’d been drinking, making her cringe even as she tried to lurch away with her back against the wall.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he uttered roughly, bringing his hand up to curl around her chin, forcing her to turn back to him.

“Get off.” She hadn’t known she would say that until the words were out of her mouth, but the thought of his hands on her made her physically ill.

Ricky slapped his hand against the wall next to her head, jostling her with the one he still had on her face.

“What the fu—”

He cut off with a scream so loud, Iris’s ears hurt. As his grip loosened on her, she pulled away, slipping to the side before looking back at him to see what had happened.

His hand was still up against the wall, but not because he held it there.

One of Synek’s knives stuck it to the wall.

Her gaze darted to him, seeing the unmistakable rage there.

“No means no, doesn’t it, mate?”

It might have been amusing to see the mixture of fear and anxiety that lit up the man’s face once Synek was there, but Iris’s heart was racing so fast, she needed a moment.

“Syn, buddy, I didn’t know she was yours. I swear I—”

“Well, now that you’re all caught up,” Synek said a moment before he palmed the back of the man’s head and slammed him face first into the wall, “let’s get reacquainted.”

He yanked the knife free and dragged the semi-conscious man farther into the hotel room where Iris got an answer to her earlier question. Ricky did have security. There was just nothing they could do against Synek.

Once he had the man tied up, he started his interrogation.

Iris watched from the other side of the room, listening as Synek coaxed the truth from the man with very little effort. There was something rather intoxicating about watching him, knowing the only danger in the room was him.

Yet he wasn’t a danger to her.

She would never be able to spark this kind of fear in Spader, but Synek could. He could force the man to see his worst nightmares played out right in front of him.

Maybe … maybe she could make him another deal—one that would benefit her in the end.

Iris just needed the opportunity.