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Blood rushing in her ears and desire slowing her thinking, it took a second to realize that he’d released her hand and stepped away. Once she did, her survival instinct kicked in, and she flew out the door, hurrying up the staircase to her room where she could regroup and come up with a plan not to sabotage herself by falling into bed with her blackmailer.
Chapter Three
Rainbow on the move.
Sitting at the dining room table, Lucas read the text message from Gustav and then glanced back down at the schematics of Rolf Macintosh’s stronghold disguised as a sprawling country house spread out before him. Though he looked at the architectural plan, he couldn’t help but picture the rainbow-haired woman who’d stormed into his office spitting mad this afternoon.
His cock stirred at the memory of being so close to her that he’d nearly given in to the temptation of nibbling a path up the narrow column of her neck. The way her nipples had tented under the thin material of her dress as he’d leaned in close to warn her not to do anything stupid had almost pushed him over the edge. Of course, that was exactly the reaction she’d been going for. It was the one men always seemed to have around her, and one she used to her advantage, according to her file.
Not that his cock was listening to the warnings his brain was sending out.
If he didn’t watch it, Lucas would become one more chump on the long list of sad saps who’d fallen for Ruby’s femme fatale charms. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen.
The sound of high heels on the marble floor drifted in from the hall outside the dining room’s open double doors. Rolling up the blueprints, he settled his features into a neutral mask that gave away nothing and rounded the long, formal table to the end where two place settings had been arranged around a trio of beeswax candles. Obviously, someone on staff thought they had a sense of humor—too bad he didn’t. First Operation Family Jewels and now an ironic romantic setting. He was going to have to have a talk with the team. He wet his fingers and pinched out the candles’ flames.
“Are we celebrating our engagement with a romantic dinner?” Ruby asked from the doorway, one hand on her hip and a smirk curling her full, pink lips.
Mads must have returned from a necessary trip to her apartment because she’d changed. Gone was the virginal white dress. Now she wore a loose white shirt casually tucked into the narrow waist of a pair of strategically ripped jeans. A bright cluster of necklaces crossed the deep V neckline of her shirt, coming to rest in the deep valley between her tits. By the time his gaze made it up from her black heels to her face, she’d paired her knowing grin with an arched eyebrow for an overall smug, caught-you-peeking look.
If he were the type to get embarrassed, he would be. However, he’d given up that useless emotion years ago, along with anything else that could get in the way of him accomplishing his goals.
“More of a working dinner,” he said, pulling out his chair and sitting down.
Following his lead, she sat down next to him. “And what is on the agenda?” she asked, her tart tone betraying the blasé expression she wore like a shield.
“Your life story.” He needed to find out the things she may not think mattered that could make the difference in whether or not Rolf Macintosh fell for the ruse or saw right through to the truth.
Her expression hardened, irritation flashing in her gray eyes. “I figured you already had a black folder filled with all of my secrets already.”
“Most of them.”
Three inches thick and detailed, his file on her held every piece of fact, rumor, and innuendo his team had dug up on her. But he needed more. As much as he discounted any kind of emotion, it was the key to creating a believable cover.
“Is this really necessary?” She sawed off a hunk of pork covered in a creamy parsley sauce, wielding the knife with more force than required.
“This operation hinges on your stepfather believing we’re an actual couple about to be married so that I can gain access to his base of operations and uncover the time and date of the arms deal.” He sliced off a bite of pork with precision. “If we can’t manage that, then we’re both in deep shit.”
“I suppose that means you’ll be spilling your guts to me?”
He almost choked, revulsion sticking in his throat at the idea. “No. I’ve used a certain cover for years now. It’s established and without even a hint of illegitimacy—at least of the kind that would make your father pause.” He nodded toward the black folder next to her salad fork. “Everything you need to know is in there. You have tonight to memorize it. We leave in the morning.”
She picked up the thick folder and flipped through it. “A little light reading, huh?”
“If you expected life to be easy, you should have stayed at Fare Island.”
“Is that what you think my life was like with my dear old stepdad? Easy?” She snorted and shook her head.
“Are you trying to tell me that living life in the lap of luxury surrounded by celebrities, servants, and guards wasn’t?”
He knew all about the Macintosh fiefdom on Fare Island. Models, the Hollywood elite, and world leaders of questionable morals coveted invitations there to indulge in all the illicit offerings the most notorious crime boss in Europe could offer. In exchange, he and his family wallowed in luxury goods from the chocolates their maids left on their pillows as if they lived in a hotel to the designer clothes Ruby wore tonight. She’d never had her stomach so empty it practically folded in on itself or learned the power of a solid, hard punch when the other kid in foster care had a good twenty pounds and three years on you.
“Do you know who the Sparrow is?” She laid her fork and knife down in an X across her half-eaten dinner with a hard clank.
“Of course.” Thin and wiry with a beak of a nose and a disturbing, nearly unblinking stare, Hamish Hansen had come by his nickname honestly.
“Let me tell you what you may not know about the most feared knife in Europe. He didn’t just lay down the law with anyone who crossed my stepfather, but with Jasper and me too.” She flipped her left hand over and shoved her palm toward him. “This was my punishment after I took one of my father’s sailboats in an attempt to get to Elskov.”
The scar had faded to pale white lines that formed a fancy capital M and I with decorative swoops and bends. According to the rumors in her file, she’d carved it herself as a show of loyalty and commitment to the family business.
