Valeria sat back in the leather seat as she flew somewhere over Arizona. Sebastian Abel took the bottle of wine from the flight attendant and dismissed her to some hidden area on the private jet. Valeria watched as he poured two glasses of wine she was sure cost more than she made in a month.

So far Sebastian has been subtly trying to throw her off guard. He’s asked questions that went from safe getting-to-know-you questions to immensely private ones. Valeria didn’t mind. If Sebastian thought he could rattle her, he was wrong. Valeria had dealt with the worst of the worst drug lords. While she saw many similarities in Sebastian, he didn’t have their survival instincts that made their actions cold-blooded. Right now, she could see Sebastian trying to throw her off as he prodded her for information on the shadow group. Who they were after, what leads they had, and wanting to hear about each member of the group.

Sebastian turned from pouring the wine with a seductive smile on his face. He stepped across the plane and took a seat next to her. His muscled leg pressed firmly against her thigh as he leaned in to hand her the wine.

“Here. It’s the finest white wine in the world. Only the best for such an intriguing woman,” Sebastian said, laying it on thick.

Valeria took a sip. “Mmm, tastes just like my favorite wine I have at home.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “Really? What kind?”

Valeria took another sip of the most amazing wine she’d ever tasted. “Oh, I don’t remember the name of it. It comes in this pretty box that fits perfectly in the refrigerator.”

Sebastian choked on his wine, and Valeria hid her smile behind her glass.

“So,” Sebastian said, clearing his throat, “when we get to L.A., where do you want me to drop you off? Of course, you can stay with me.” Sebastian let his hand fall to her thigh as his thumb softly rubbed a patch of her bare leg.

“Sorry, you’re not my type.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“You’re not enough of a badass for me. You’re a little too—” Valeria’s fingers wiggled as she waved at his expensive suit and clean shave “—neat. And boring.”

Sebastian leaned closer and placed a kiss on the soft spot below her ear. “Trust me, I can be your worst nightmare.”

“Really?” Valeria asked, tilting her head to allow Sebastian access. “How? Let’s see, Bertie Geofferies is your rival, right? What have you done to Geofferies to give him nightmares?

Valeria closed her eyes as Sebastian’s hot lips trailed slowly down the curve of her neck. Damn, he was good.

“I don’t need to do anything to Bertie. Everyone around him does it for him. I pay Trip to tell me what Bertie’s wife tells him during sex. His own employees come to me when I announce a job opening. And I always beat him to market with new products,” Sebastian said between kisses that even Valeria had to admit where causing her eyes to cross.

“Right. But sorry, corporate espionage, poaching employees, and probably some patent trolling is still pretty boring. Talk to me after you’ve gone skydiving, lived through a shootout, and kept your cool undercover across from a man known for skinning people alive who cross him. Then I’ll let your lips travel further down my neck. And as for being bad, your white-collar crimes are nothing compared to someone like Manuel Hernandez, even if you two look similar.”

Sebastian pulled away enough to look into her face. “You’re comparing me with the head of the Hermanos de Sangre drug cartel when I’ve never admitted to actually committing a crime?”

“Interesting that you know who he is. Manuel likes to keep a low profile,” Valeria said as she felt the plane begin its descent into L.A.

“Of course, I know who he is. And he’s nothing like me. He’s a good five inches shorter than I am,” Sebastian sat back and downed his wine as Valeria sipped hers thoughtfully.

How did Sebastian know about Manuel—the drug lord, who it turned out, owned the bank in Mexico where the money to Phylicia Claymore originated? The drug lord who Valeria had proof was paying off DEA agents, including her former boss, and the reason for her termination at the DEA. And the same drug lord whose name, or whose bank, kept showing up in in various people’s bank records, like Senator Epps, President Mitchell, Sandra Cummings, and even Sebastian Abel.

It had been an accident finding one of SA Tech’s account numbers in a wire transfer from the bank in Sinaloa, Mexico, owned by Manuel Hernandez. That was why Valeria wanted Sebastian on the plane with her. She needed to know if Sebastian was with them or against them.

“Hang out with him regularly?” Valeria asked sarcastically.

“Anyone who does business in Mexico has to deal with Manuel. He has his hand in more American pockets than the IRS.” Valeria watched Sebastian regain his composure. His sexy smile slid back into place as the plane landed. The door opened and Sebastian held out his hand to her.

Valeria stood up, but Sebastian pulled her close. “Now, where can I take you? Or should we go back to my place?”

Valeria stepped closer and wove her fingers through his hair. Sebastian grinned, and Valeria yanked his head to hers. She kissed him hard, fast, and with lots of tongue. She was halfway down the steps before Sebastian realized what had hit him.

“Thanks for the lift!” she yelled with a wave of her hand as she got into the car she had ordered. She looked through the window and saw Sebastian outlined by the plane’s door watching as she left. She’d told him he wasn’t her type, and he wasn’t. Especially if he was in league with Manuel Hernandez. Now she just needed to prove Manuel Hernandez was helping fund members of Mollia Domini. And for that, Valeria was going to disappear for a while. If she got caught . . . well, if she got caught then no one would ever hear from her again. Manuel would guarantee it.

Lizzy waited quietly in the dark parking lot of the abandoned warehouse outside of DC. It was close to eleven when two headlights pierced the night air. Even though there was little chance of this being anyone other than Humphrey, Lizzy didn’t take a chance. She turned off the safety on her gun and held it in her lap. Just in case.

The car stopped next to her, and the window rolled down, exposing the bald little man in round wire-rimmed glasses. “Hi, Humphrey. What’s cooking at the White House?”

“You haven’t seen it? Oh dear, it’s not good. I thought Birch was going to kill someone,” Humphrey said as he wrung the steering wheel nervously.

“Seen what?” Lizzy asked, wishing Humphrey would get to the point.

“Oh dear. Poor Tate.”

“Humphrey!”

The man jumped in his seat. “Right. Tinselgossip.com. There’s this—” Humphrey turned red. “You should just look.”

Lizzy pulled out her phone and logged onto the gossip site. “Holy shit, that’s goody-two-shoes Tate Carlisle? You go, girl.” Then it hit her. “Oh no,” Lizzy groaned.

“What?” Humphrey asked with concern all over his face.

“Birch likes Tate, doesn’t he?”

“I think it’s wonderful. Birch needs something good in his life,” Humphrey blustered as he puffed himself up as if ready to fight for Birch and Tate.

“But it compromises the mission by putting every decision Birch makes into question.”

“How is it any different from you and Dalton?” Humphrey asked, suddenly sounding every inch the schoolteacher he had been.

“I don’t love Dalton. We just have sex,” Lizzy defended.

“And if you think that, then you’re even more naïve than Tate.” Humphrey turned from an open-mouthed Lizzy before turning back with a large briefcase. He angled it through the window. “Here are all the folders from the meeting today. Names are on stickers on the outside of each folder. Let me know what you hear. Tomorrow is the Fourth of July celebration, and Monday is Birch’s interview with Claudia. The more we know by then, the better.”

Lizzy thought about what Humphrey said all the way back to the bar. Valeria and Dalton were working tonight, so she and Alex could work on the folders. It was going to be hard enough to find the right partial print without her mind thinking about love and Dalton in the same sentence. But what was there really to think about? Humphrey had called her out, and he had been right. She loved him. Now that was done, and she was going to get back to work. Lizzy didn’t have time to love someone who would be leaving as soon as this assignment was over. And it was going so well as it was. She wasn’t going to rock the boat by bringing up the L word. Unlike the president, she knew how to put her personal feelings aside for the benefit of the mission.

Lizzy parked behind the bar. When she opened the back door, the noise was deafening. It was a large crowd that night since many were off work for the holiday. Lizzy put the folders in an old vodka crate in the storage room and headed to see how Valeria and Dalton were doing.

Instead of finding them behind the bar, she found Dalton, Buzz, and Snip behind the bar and Alex delivering drinks as fast as he could. What the hell was going on?

“Dude!” Alex said with panic in his eyes and sweat dripping from his brow as he rushed past her to deliver a round of shots to a table.

Lizzy hurried to the bar. “Where’s Valeria?”

Dalton didn’t have to stop to talk. “Never showed,” he called out over his shoulder as he poured more drinks. “We’ve tried calling but her phone’s off. Luckily Buzz and Snip are helping in exchange for free drinks.”

Lizzy smiled at the old men. “Thank you. Go sit down. I’ll get you a beer.”

“Thank goodness. I mean, I know I have new hips, but geez Louise, it’s a doozie of a night,” Buzz said, patting her hand as he and Snip shuffled past her to take their seats.

“Alex,” Lizzy called over. “Find her. It’s not like her to drop off the map like this.”

“But—” Alex looked frantically around the packed bar.

“But nothing. Our team comes first. Dalton and I can handle this.”

Lizzy watched Alex head for the clean room and she felt her stomach knot. Something was seriously wrong.