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His eyes darkened. “I wouldn’t be in this club with you if there was.”

Good answer. “What do you do for business?”

“The kind of thing where if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Keiko burst out laughing and took delight in his answering smile. “Don’t you want to know what I do for a living?” It was a test. Everyone knew who she was. Everyone.

“I know what you do, Keiko. Unlike you, I don’t have a problem accessing the club’s database. Even if I hadn’t, I watch the news just like everyone else. But what we do isn’t who we are. Is it?”

He gently drew her into his arms, engulfing her in his size and strength.

“No,” she whispered. “It isn’t.”

Mace’s wide hand flattened on the small of her back, tucking her tight against him. “We done talking?”

That question was perfect, too. “Yeah.”

And with that, she melted into his embrace, winding her arms around his neck and resting her cheek on his chest as they swayed to the music. His heartbeat was steady under her ear as his warmth surrounded her. He curled around her, filling her senses with his touch and scent as the darkness enveloped them. The mass of bodies swaying around them somehow made it easier to touch, to explore, to lose themselves in the moment.

His hands trailed down the silk of her dress, curling over the curve of her hips, pulling her closer. Her fingers threaded into his hair at his nape, her fingernails trailing over his skin. She lost herself in the thrumming beat of the music and the pure masculinity of the man touching her. He leaned into her, nuzzling her temple. Glorious. And his scent. Heady. Heavenly. Addictive. She felt him breathe deep and imagined him taking her scent into him, letting it fill him up—exactly the way his scent filled her.

Need flowed through her in rhythm to the blues swirling in the air around them. They swayed in time to Etta James singing “At Last,” floating away to the sound of violins and soulful singing. Keiko had heard the song many times in retro clubs in New York, but this time the music seemed to wend its way into her soul. Casting a spell on her. Making it hard to think clearly. All she wanted was to feel. To let the music take them away, to let the darkness swallow them, to lose herself in him. Just this once. Just for tonight.

He tugged at her earlobe with his teeth. Keiko’s fingers tightened in his hair, and her breasts flattened against his chest as he pulled her even closer. It wasn’t close enough. His lips inched their way along her jaw. A tiny kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth made her shiver.

Mace brushed his lips back and forth across hers. “Strawberry,” he murmured against her mouth before taking the kiss she so desperately wanted to give him.

Her breath hitched before she sighed into his possession. Electric charges rushed over her skin, straight from her lips to every part of her body. Her skin was highly sensitized by her awareness of him. Even the gentlest, most fleeting of touches made her burn. She was delirious with wanting him. The taste, the feel, the power of him. His hand clasped her head, moving her where he needed her to be. And she went willingly. He tasted of long, hot summer nights spent taking all the time in the world to explore. The music faded to nothing. The people around them vanished. There was only Mace, holding her, kissing her, making her want so much more.

Chapter Three

He was losing his grip on the situation. Losing it fast. His desire for the woman in his arms was a tsunami, wiping out his reason. Making him forget why he was there and what he had to do. Making him drown in her. As their lips broke apart, gasping for air, foreheads pressed together, Mace fought for control. This was a mission. She was the target.

But, fuck, he wanted her.

Working independently of his brain, his mouth found hers again, and he willingly sank into the depths of craving she stirred within him. Soft, full lips teasing his, her tongue dancing with his, her teeth nibbling at him. He pulled her closer as every cell in his body demanded more. He wanted their clothes gone. The people gone. The mission gone.

He just wanted Keiko.

And he couldn’t have her.

Because this was a mission. And she was the job.

With a Herculean exercise of will, he broke their kiss. “We need to cool this down.” He forced out the words as his body raged at him. “We’re moving too fast.”

Her lips found the curve of his throat. “Is that bad? It doesn’t feel bad. It feels good. Really, really good.”

She was killing him. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, and you aren’t helping.”

“I don’t want to help. Or stop.” She clasped his nape and pulled his lips back down to hers.

He should have put up more of a fight. Maybe guided them off the dance floor, bought her a drink, talked to her a little. But all he wanted was to keep on touching her. Tasting her. Breathing her in. She was the last woman on the planet he should want, but there was no stopping it. Keiko Sato set him alight. And he was burning for her.

“You’re doing great,” a voice said in his ear. “Now move it back to the hotel.”

It took a second for him to register that his team leader was talking to him. That’s how far gone he was—he’d forgotten his team was listening.

Damn it.

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