“Makes it simple, huh?” She anchored her hands on his shoulders and rose on her stilettos. Leaning close, she whispered, “I’ve got on a thong with an elastic center. Easier to move out of the way.”
He placed her hand over his crotch so she could feel his excitement. “I’m going to forget all about Internado.”
She patted his junk before removing her hand. “While I’m very impressed with your massive erection, we should make sure our surveillance equipment works.” She handed him her watch and showed him how to activate the camera. “It’s video only.”
He strapped it on.
She held up her mask and pointed to the middle of three sequins affixed over her left eye. “This is a tiny transceiver that captures video and audio.”
“Impressive.” He clasped her hand. “Ready to roll?”
“Ash, I don’t think you should say much. You’ve got a very distinct and booming voice.” She shrugged. “It’s the showman in you.”
“Should I say nothing?”
“Less is more and quiet is better than loud. I love that I can find you wherever we are, but at Greta’s, you’re someone else.”
“I’m Mr. Black.” He had lowered his voice and spoke quietly.
She smiled. “Perfect.”
On the way to Greta’s, Carly told him she never drank while working.
“Neither do I.” He glanced over at her. “You doin’ okay?”
“A few jitters, but I’ll settle down once we get there. You?”
“In some ways, this is like a mission. While waiting for you, I checked for my weapon, but this isn’t that kind of assignment.”
Their eyes met in the darkened car. “I hope it doesn’t devolve into that.”
“Me, too, babe.”
They parked a block from Greta’s end-unit townhouse, tied on their masks, and headed out. In a very affectionate move, she slipped her hand into his. Warmth flooded his chest as they walked up the brick stairs to the front door.
Presuming there were surveillance cameras located on the home’s exterior, he placed his mouth to her ear. “Show time, wife.” She turned. The air sizzled with wild excitement, the attraction undeniable.
He dropped a kiss on her mouth. “For luck.” Then, he tapped the doorbell.
A ghost of a smile curved her lips. “You’re a very doting husband.”
“You’re easy to dote over, Mrs. Black.” He kissed her again as Greta swung open the door.
“Ah, how romantic.” A petite, middle-aged woman in a modest black dress offered a gracious smile. Her jet-black hair was pulled into a tight French twist. “Can I help you?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Black, for Greta,” said Carly.
“Friends of Sinclair,” she said, eyeing them up and down. “I’m Greta.” She extended a bony hand with several black and silver bracelets lining her thin wrist.
They shook her hand.
“Please, come in.” She closed the front door and snapped the dead bolt into place before moving toward the cozy bar tucked in the corner of the room.
Sinclair had gotten them in. Now it was up to Carly to take them the rest of the way. Everything is riding on this. It had damn well better work.
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