Page 51 of Spies Don’t Fall for Their Best Friend

“His personality is exhausting.”

Anton yanks me backward. I trap his wrist, twist free, and slam it against the side of the boat until his gun falls into the water.

The speedboat lurches as its damaged engine sputters again. Ledger comes alongside.

Celeste looks at me. “Go.”

“You first.”

“I am not jumping between moving boats in this dress.”

Fair enough. Ledger swings closer, so I grab Celeste’s hand, brace myself against the railing, and help her across when the boats knock together. Ledger catches her other arm and hauls her aboard.

Anton lunges for me before I can follow. I duck his punch.

The remote is still in my hand.

Behind us, the timer reaches zero, and a muted explosion punches through the rear of the Aurelia. Flame blooms above the stern, quickly swallowed by suppressant and black smoke.

The yacht lists slightly, then steadies. No secondary explosion follows. The fuel isolation held. Good. One problem down.

But Anton is still trying to kill me. Less good.

I drive my shoulder into his middle, and we hit the deck together. His damaged engine coughs, and the boat swings hard to port.

Anton reaches for the remote, so I shove it inside my jacket beside the chip. “You really need to learn to accept rejection.”

He hits me. Hard.

I hit him back.

By the time Ledger brings our boat alongside again, Anton is on one knee, one of his men is unconscious, and the driver has both hands raised because flashing patrol lights are coming toward us from three directions.

I step across the narrowing gap, and Ledger grabs the front of my jacket, pulling me the rest of the way aboard.

Patrol vessels close in around Anton’s damaged boat. Another response vessel pulls alongside us.

Celeste’s attention goes to the inside of my jacket again. “The referral still stands,” she says quietly.

I glance at her. “After all this?”

“Especially after all this.” Then her eyes narrow slightly. “You knew more about that token than you pretended to.”

Dangerous woman. I give her Maxwell Shaw’s easiest smile. “I know enough people.”

For a second, she simply studies me. Then her mouth curves. “But not everyone you need to know.”

“Not yet.”

I give her a little smile. This is good. Very good.

She turns back to the paramedic, and two responders help her aboard.

“I’m fine,” she tells them.

Blood is still running down the side of her face, so the paramedic looks unconvinced.

Celeste gives me one last glance before disappearing toward the rear of the boat with him.