Drawing the secretary away from Travis’s office isn’t all that hard, although the hunger in her eyes scares me. After this mission is over, I’m not coming anywhere near this hotel ever again. In fact, I’ll ask for a transfer as far away from here as possible, far, far away…

And Rook?

Well, it’s not like he asked me out. Not like we’re dating… right?

Strange how the thought of leaving him behind makes me hurt deep inside. We haven’t talked about being together, about staying together, about the future.

Probably because there isn’t any. We’re both here, thrown together, in our separate missions. That’s all there is to it. Once we succeed—or fail—we won’t have anything in common. I’ll return to the FBI, placed on another case, and he’ll return to his glittering, diamond-studded world.

“You said you wanted to show me something?” Travis’s secretary whispers as I lead her away from the office, down the hallway lined with doors.

I know perfectly well what she thought I’d show her. My shameless flirting with her made sure of that. I heard the rumors about her working in the hotel all this time. Sadist. Dom. Loves women. It’s not the first time she’s stared at me as I passed her by in a hallway or the lobby.

A shudder goes through me as I turn the corner in the corridor and find her right behind me, way too close.

Ugh. I didn’t have time to come up with a way to ditch her. When I got Rook’s text message, I had to act fast, and did the first thing that sprang to my mind.

Think, Mia. She wants a chance with you. She’s on the clock, she has Rook in Travis’s office.

I stop and turn around, plastering a smile on my face. “Ms. April.”

“Call me Faith.”

I swallow, my mouth dry. “Faith. Sorry I disturbed you at work. I have to get back to work, too, but I wanted…” Yeah, what did you want, Mia? “To get to know you better.”

“That’s nice.” She lifts a hand to my face, and I manage not to flinch as her dry fingertips skim over my cheek. It’s so different when Rook does it, I think, and suddenly I want away from this woman right the hell now. “I’ve seen you looking at me. I knew you wanted this. I’ll show you a good time.”

Seriously? I almost gag. “Oh yes. If you’ll just give me your phone number…?”

“Tell you want. You give me your phone number. I’ll send mine to you.”

Shit. Suppressing a groan, I give it to her, and she enters it in her cell. A few seconds later, my phone dings. “Thanks.”

“Pleasure is mine,” she whispers, stepping again closer.

Um. “I don’t want to keep you.” I take a step back. Kicking her in the crotch is not a good idea, I tell myself sternly. Find another way out of this, Mia. “You have someone waiting in Mr. Travis’s office. I saw him when you opened the door.”

She puffs out a sigh. “Work. Always work.”

“I know,” I say, nodding. “Sucks.”

“I will call you.” She brandishes her phone like a gun, and I barely catch myself before ducking.

“Oh yeah, do that. Please.” I back away one more step, keep the smile firmly pasted on. “I’d love to stay longer, but I really have to go.”

I don’t breathe until she’s gone with the promise to call soon.

Yeah right. Rook really owes me for this.

Big time.

* * *

I find him in his suite. He opens the door still in his suit, his dark hair ruffled, eyes bright and brows drawn together.

“I found something,” he says without preamble and steps aside to let me in. “Thanks for the save, by the way.”

“You owe me,” I jab a finger at him in passing, “because that—”

He grabs me in his arms and presses me to the wall, crushing our mouths together. My body melts against him, my worry evaporating as his taste, his scent floods my senses. Musk and pepper and sexy man, all wrapped up with a bow.

Wrapped up in my arms.

His tongue strokes mine, his strong arms cage me, and there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.

I shove my fingers into his short hair and kiss him back with everything I’m feeling for him. Desire. Worry. My fear for him, and for everyone involved in this case.

Need. Affection.

Things I have no name for—yet—but that make my heart race whenever I’m near him.

He draws back, and we both pant for a long moment. He grins.

I grin back.

“Let me show you what I got,” he says, and starts dragging me toward the sofa. I let him, intrigued. “It was in a locked drawer of his office.”

He tosses an envelope at me. Nothing special about it, until I spot the symbol I know signifies a high member of the Organization. It came to light after Rook’s friend Troy ‘Storm’ Jordan was shot and after he turned in the evidence he found in his uncle’s mansion in Boca Raton to the police. The snake biting its tail.

I arch a brow at Rook as he sinks down beside me on the white leather sofa. “You haven’t opened it yet?”

“Nah, I just got in. Besides… we did this together. I wanted us to open it together.”

Shucks… No idea why this gesture touches me so much.

Okay scratch that, I do. It shows his trust in me, just like him opening up about what he likes in pain and in pleasure. It shows that he really sees me as his partner. That he wants to share this with me.

God, for me this is better than flowers. So frigging romantic.

I lean in and quickly kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

He frowns. “You saved my ass. It was the least I could do, after you drew that bitch away from me.”

“I thought you liked pain.”

“Not from her.” He shudders dramatically, and I laugh. “But you can bite me and scratch me any time, kitten, and I won’t say no.”

Aw man.

The envelope is large and heavy, the creamy paper thick. Feels like it contains a pack of documents. It’s sealed, and I glance up at him before I open it.

He nods, his expression somber.

The papers I pull out are yellowed. They look old. Parts of the text is hand-written, the rest typed. I stare at the top one, at the long legal title.

Then I glance up at Rook, frowning. “I don’t get it.”

He grabs the documents from my hands, his eyes tracking the words, his face pale. “What the hell?” he breathes. “What the fuck’s this?”

“What is it?” I try to read sideways what’s on the document. “It’s an agreement, right?”

“Sure is. This name…” He stabs at the document, and I try to pry it away from him. He seems about to tear the paper to shreds.

“Who is it? What is this agreement about anyway? Can’t be important, if Travis kept it in a drawer, right?”

“It’s not important to him, or to Cronin, I’ll bet.” He tears himself off the sofa, grabs his coat from the hanger by the door. “Come on, we need to go, now.”

Okay, good idea. Still… “Tell me what it is about the document, Rook.” I wave it at him even as I get up and follow him. “What name? You have to tell me.”

“My name,” he mutters as he throws the door open, grabs my arm and drags me out. “That one. My name is on there, Mia.”

Shit.

* * *

“You made a deal with Ian Cronin?” We’re hurrying down the long corridor toward the elevators. “Rook, talk to me.”

“I made no fucking deal. Ever.” His grip on my arm is bruising, but I doubt he’s realized. His face is like a storm cloud. “Never knew about the Organization until Storm was first attacked, dammit.”

“Then what? They set you up?”

He shakes his head, dark hair falling on his forehead. He comes to a halt in front of the elevator and jabs at the call button. “That’s not what the document is about.”

“What then? Stop the riddles. Tell me. We’re together in this, aren’t we?”

He pulls me against his side, closes his eyes. “It’s an agreement between Cronin Enterprises and my parents. A simple one. They’d look after me. Alma Rodriguez was sent in to keep an eye on me. Alma. Shit.”

“Who’s Alma? Why is that important, and why…?” I frown. “What’s this all about? I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t your parents take care of you?”

He’s shaking. I can hear his breathing rattle in his chest. “They aren’t my parents,” he whispers.

Holy shit.

The elevator doors open, and I try to move toward them, but he doesn’t budge. “Come on,” I tell him. “We should get out of here while we still can.”

“Mia…” He’s so pale I’m afraid he might pass out. “This means…”

It could mean so many different things, but we don’t have time for this now. “Come on, Rook. Move your ass.”

This time he moves, and I tug him into the elevator. Thank Jesus. I press the L for the lobby, then jab viciously at the button to close the doors.

Rook leans back against one of the mirrored walls of the steel cage, his face gray. I don’t like that color. “Rook, listen to me.” I put a hand over his chest, over his racing heart. “It will be okay. No matter what you read. No matter what it means. Nothing has changed.”

He laughs, then, a dry, bitter cough of a sound. “You have no idea.”

It seems I don’t. “We’ll talk the moment we’re out.” I fish my phone out and quickly take photos of the documents, then send them to Lucy and my boss as the elevator slowly takes us down. “I’ll handle this.”

My boss will know what to do. How to protect Rook. Because that’s all I can think of as I put the phone away and eye him. Whatever’s in that document hit him like a bullet, and he’s struggling to recover, but it’s bad. Whatever it is. I doubt a guy like Rook is easily shocked.

And who the hell is Alma?

Hold up… Am I jealous now? Of a woman I’ve never met, too. Jesus. It’s just that… there was warmth in Rook’s eyes when he spoke her name.

Can you blame me? I barely know him. He’s a well-known playboy. And I was thrust into his life by chance. If he has a girl waiting for him at home…

Then the sense of betrayal clinging to his words makes sense. A girl he’d trusted, and now she’s turned out to be an employee of Cronin’s.

Sucks.

Not as much as the open hole in my chest, though. Serves me right. I knew from the start this was a bad idea, and didn’t heed the warnings.

Changes nothing about this, though—this mission. I’m getting Rook out, and Cronin into prison, if it kills me.