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Dylan didn’t think; he reacted as his training had instilled. Do everything to stay alive, and under no circumstances blow your cover. Making it look like he’d come in here like the horn dog he portrayed Hawk to be made sense. It was a great cover, actually.

Except Dylan wasn’t Hawk, and Veronica wasn’t Monique. It was pure Dylan and Veronica when their lips met.

He heard low voices down the hall, indicating Hank had arrived with others—if indeed it was Hank. Whoever it was needed to believe that Hawk and Monique couldn’t keep their hands off one another, were about to take their embrace to the top of Monique’s desk.

This was an improv moment Dylan had no problem with. Until Veronica opened her mouth, and welcomed his all too eager tongue with hers. The kiss deepened and his senses lit up like flares in a raid. Immediate, hot, total clarity on what his body wanted from hers. He didn’t allow his hands to stray from where he’d grasped her buttocks to pull her close, knowing that if he did he’d risk exposing more than a flash of Veronica’s stomach or breast, where the tips of his fingers longed to stroke. To reach under the waistband of yet another too-tight skirt and search for the center of her heat.

“That’s it, big boy. Give momma what she needs.”

It took him a full second to realize she’d pulled back from the kiss and spoken to him. Loudly. As if—

“Hey, boss, you two mind getting a room?” Hank’s false confidence boomed across the space and Dylan tore his eyes from Veronica’s swollen lips, the smear of her apple-red lipstick blurring them.

Not Veronica’s lips. Monique’s.

“You talking to me?” He forced out the snarl, fought to come up for mental air. Mental alarm bells screeched at his misstep; the reality that one second of distraction could kill either of them clawed at his conscience.

“No, no, sir! I was talking to Monique.”

“You know better than to interrupt my business dealings, Hank.” Veronica’s cool tone, the way she shoved at his chest and gave him a quick wink so that Hank would see it, helped shock him back to the task at hand. “Excuse my indiscretion. It’s still new for us, isn’t it?” She smiled at him then, but her eyes weren’t thinking of the kiss. He saw focus and intent that had everything to do with her job.

“Got that right.” He scowled at Hank. “Why are you here, again?”

“Easy, babe.” Veronica placed her hand on his chest. “It’s okay. Hank’s doing his job, aren’t you, Hank? Who did you bring in with you?”

It was Hank’s turn to scrounge for a good reason to explain why he’d brought two men into the club with him before hours. At least, Dylan didn’t recognize them. He hoped Veronica did, or this could be the red flag he’d dreaded. That they’d had their covers blown, or were close to it.

“Boss, this is Gus and Will. They’re new to the company, working directly for Rex.” Hank puffed his chest out as if he’d scored a raise. He may have, Dylan figured, but had he and Veronica just received their death warrants?

Veronica’s stomach burned with fury. At Hank for not giving her a heads-up about Rex’s sentries, at Dylan for waltzing in here when he could have texted her, burner phone to burner phone. Dylan’s smart—and awfully quick—thinking had them locking lips in just enough time to be convincing to Hank and these minions. But it had allowed her to imagine for the umpteenth time what being in a real relationship with Dylan would be like. She’d looked forward to it when they’d served together, had been able to all but taste the lips that until recently she never actually had. They’d come so close to allowing their friendship to become more, and then he’d left. No kiss, no hug goodbye. And now they’d shared two lusty embraces she’d be better never having experienced.

Liar.

Her fury at herself for allowing her body to react to the way his lips both teased and soothed, the way his tongue fought with hers while arousing her most basic needs, was something she had to shove to the back of her mind for the time being.

“While I appreciate the intention, Gus and Will, I don’t think you two are necessary for Frisky’s business. In fact, we run a very tight operation here. Too many hands…” she sniffed, raised a brow “…you get the idea. Please tell Rex I said so when you report back to him, as I’m sure you will. We’ll call if we run into any trouble, promise. Got it?” She made it a point to look each directly in the eye while she avoided Hank’s worried gaze.

“But, boss, we need more hands. Just last night we cleared more—”

“Of course we’re making a wider profit, Hank.” She threw a grin at Dylan, then to each of his guards. “This is what Rex hired me for, boys. To improve the efficiency of our business dealings, and by that I don’t mean keeping the top-shelf customers in single malt.” The latter tickled grunts and laughter from the hoodlums. Dylan remained quiet, his posture classic Hawk, but she knew better. His mind was steps ahead of Hank and the henchmen, always keeping the most effective means of escape in the forefront of his thoughts.

Hank wasn’t happy with her stance. He looked from Gus and Will to her, and back again, his hands wringing themselves, his forehead breaking out in familiar beads of perspiration.

Dylan’s hand seared its heat through her blouse’s thin fabric at the arch of her back. “You heard your boss, Hank. Best listen.” The message behind his warning was clear. Hawk and Monique were on the same page, and expected Hank to keep up.

Hank jerkily nodded. “Okay, gotcha, loud and clear like.” He turned to Gus and Will. “We’ll figure this out, come up with a plan.”

Gus stroked his scraggly beard that reminded Veronica of how athletes often let their hair or beards grow long during a sport season, as a superstitious talisman. “That’s posing me a mighty problem. You see, like you, I don’t take orders from anyone but my boss, and I only answer to one man. Rex. You’ve met Rex, right?” He feigned false curiosity. She knew the punk would kill them all without hesitation and wash his lack of regret down with a cold draft beer.

“Why didn’t Rex tell us ahead of time that you were coming?” She deliberately played it obtuse, knowing that in these circles, they didn’t take her as seriously as they would a two-hundred-plus-pound male with an automatic weapon in his hands. So far she’d been lucky; Hank hadn’t realized she definitely knew her way around a weapon, nor had he ever discovered the times she’d carried concealed.

Gus cackled. “Honey, Rex is a busy man. Do you realize what that makes you? A gnat on his ass. Your lover boy, too. I ain’t promising anything about going away. I take my orders from Rex, and he wants us here. We’ll leave this time, but don’t be surprised when we’re back. Just like Rex, we’re always around.” He glanced at Dylan before he shifted his sneer to Hank. “You need to do your job better and get the help up to speed.” He yanked his head at Veronica, his only acknowledgement of her presence once he spoke to Dylan.

Instead of becoming infuriated over the blatant display of misogyny, Veronica bit the inside of her cheeks against the celebratory grin that threatened. Let them assume she was naive about who she “worked” for. With patience, focus, and not a little bit of luck on their side, she and Dylan would ensure all of these losers were unemployed.

Chapter 13

“It’s great to hear your voice, Dylan.” Aiden’s voice rumbled over the cellular connection. “How long have you been in town?”