Lela lived in a studio apartment in the heart of Whitechapel. It was eerie, driving through a town that was infamous for its mysterious 19^th-century serial killer.

“Have you been in London long?” I asked, glancing in the rearview mirror. Despite the situation, I couldn’t keep myself from admiring her beauty. Her soft caramel hair framed her face to perfection. Her hazel eyes were like two jewels planted carefully beside her button nose.

“About a week… I’m actually studying Jack the Ripper.”

“Oh, for what purpose?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Amelia looked like a cute, innocent girl. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who would be investigating a serial killer. Then again, one of the first things I’d learned as a Navy SEAL was to never judge a book by its cover. If something seems safe – it usually isn’t. If a girl seems too good to be true – she usually is.

I thought back to one of my first recon missions. I had been duped by an enemy spy. She had nearly milked me for sensitive intel. If it hadn’t been for Franklin, my missions partner, I would have died twenty-three days in.

“I’m writing a book.”

“What kind of a book?”

“A novel.”

“Are you a novelist?”

“You could say that,” she answered. Her lips twitched slightly, like she was being coy with me.

“What sort of books have you written? I’d love to read one.”

“You’ll just have to find that out for yourself.”

“Hmm… let me guess… you write mystery novels. That’s why you won’t tell me.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe I just don’t want to tell you everything about myself when I know nothing about you.”

I grinned, parking in front of Lela’s apartment. We were one of the first ones to arrive.

“By the way you drive, I might guess you were a racecar driver, but I think you’re much more than that.” She leaned forward, the neckline of her shirt dipping down slightly, teasing me with the subtle exposure of her black lace bra.

I immediately imagined her wearing a matching set. If I were lucky, she would be wearing a skimpy little thong, one that disappeared between her cheeks. My thoughts were about to venture into uncharted territory, but I snapped out of it when I felt my cock stirring in my pants. The last thing I needed was a boner in front of a five-year-old.

“Well, I’m a finance manager for VanGuard,” I lied effortlessly.

“And what do you do as a finance manager?” She leaned closer, the smell of her vanilla-scented perfume wafting up to my nose. She smelled so sweet. A part of me wanted to take her into my arms and taste her right then and there.

“Cruz is a secret agent, just like James Bond!” Hunter blurted out. “He told me last night!”

“Shoot, there goes my cover…” I chuckled nervously.

“A secret agent, huh?” Amelia questioned, obviously intrigued. “What do you do exactly?”

“Look, it’s not very important. We can talk about it later if you want – at my place.” I sweetened my tone, wondering if she would take the bait. I didn’t really expect her to say yes, especially given the circumstances, but slowly, her lips curled into a sexy little smirk.

“Hmm, inviting me to your house already? What do you take me for, Cruz? Speaking of which, what’s your first name?”

“It’s just Cruz.” I got out of the car and opened her door, helping her out. When our hands touched, I felt a surge of electricity run through my body. It jolted me, making me hyper-aware of how close we really were. Our noses nearly touched. Our hips were brushed together. Amelia’s eyes searched mine. For a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Knock, knock.

Hunter rapped his knuckles against the window, hoping we hadn’t forgotten about him.

Reluctantly, I dropped her hand, unbuckling the little boy and pulling him into my arms. “Sorry, little buddy. The first rule about being a gentleman is ladies first.”

He thought about this for a moment. “My mommy always told me that I had to hold the door for ladies.”

“Your mommy was a very smart woman.” I tapped his nose with my finger and smiled. “Do you want to hold the door for Amelia?”

He nodded. As soon as I put him on the ground, he ran up to the door and tugged on the handle. It was a heavier door, so he struggled with it a bit before I came up behind him, pulling it open. He stood in front of it and looked at her expectantly. “After you!” he said, waving his hand toward the entrance.

I chuckled. Hunter was a cute kid.

“Why, thank you.” She curtsied in front of him before kissing him on the cheek.

He blushed crimson.

“Hey, where’s my kiss?” I asked.

She just smiled before throwing her hair over her shoulder and disappearing through the doorway.

“Hehe. She likes me better,” Hunter teased, sticking out his tongue.

“I know. I’ve got my work cut out for me with you as the competition.” I chuckled, taking his hand as we navigated the hallways together and finally arrived at the right door.

Inside, there were a few people lingering around the refreshment tables. Most of them were making small talk, trying to pass the time.

Lela, holding a juice box in her hand, spotted us. “Here you go.”

Hunter thanked her politely.

I helped him with the straw.

“You seem to be handling him pretty well,” Amelia commented, handing me a plate.

I looked down at the assortment of food. There were small tea cakes, sandwiches, and vegetable platters. I noticed that Amelia had stuck with the healthier options, but in the end, she had snuck herself a few chocolate-covered strawberries, shooting me a naughty little look, her eyes full of mischief.

Was she flirting with me? Or was it all just in my head?