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I have to hand it to him, the foodisgood, but right now, I have more pressing concerns to deal with. Like who the hell this guy is, and if he poses an immediate threat to my safety or may possibly compromise my operation. I’m starting to wonder if I should have just taken up Luka’s offer to go back to his place.
It’s a jarring tennis match inside my head. On one hand, letting Luka take me home would have given me the perfect opportunity to not only discover where he lives, but gain access to his hard drives. But on the other, wouldn’t that be a little suspicious on my part? This character I’ve created for myself—Willa—doesn't strike me as someone who’d sleep with a guy she knows hardly anything about.
And therein lies an additional problem: Ireallywant to sleep with Luka.
It’s the furthest thing from professional and probably violates the ethics code of the FBI, but I can’t help the way my body breaks out into delightful little shivers when he touches me or how the sound of his voice against my ear makes my core burn. I can see my desire reflected in his eyes, so I know I’m not the only one who wants it, but it doesn’t feel right. I’m lying to him. I know it’s my job and for the greater good, but the thought of sleeping with him for information leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Could I not be cut out for field work?
I try to convince myself that isn’t the case. I’m just trying to string him along, keep his interest. Wouldn’t it raise more red flags if I’m overly eager? For all I know, this could be a month-long surveillance op. I can’t afford to show my hand too early. Surely, it’ll be easier for him to believe the good girl act.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks me, wearing an amused smirk.
“Oh, uh… I was just wondering how you know about this place.”
“I’m a bit of a foodie,” he confesses. “I run a blog and everything.”
I’m pretty sure he’s lying, but the image of Luka at his desk in the dark, tearing apart a local restaurant with a series of harsh comments and a one-star review is hilarious. I can’t help but laugh.
“You don’t believe me?” he asks lightly.
“No, no, I didn’t say that. You just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who runs a blog ab out food.”
“I’m allowed to have hobbies, aren’t I?”
I giggle. “Of course you are, it’s just—”
“Sis?”
My blood freezes. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to whip around when I hear my Tabitha’s voice. She’s with her friends, Dolly and Rachel, the latter of whom is pushing Tabitha’s wheelchair. My sister beams up at me, then promptly glances at Luka, grinning like the cat who got the cream.
“Oh, who’s your friend?” she asks me innocently.
I can’t ignore my sister; I can’t blow my cover, either. But if I tell her to leave, wouldn’t it make me look even more suspicious? I can’t exactly reveal to Tabitha what’s going on, but if she doesn’t leave soon, Luka’s going to ask more questions. What the hell am I supposed to do? I’m caught between a rock and a hard place.
Before I have a chance to think, Luka offers his hand to shake. He smiles charmingly. “Luka Antonov,” he says. “And who might you be?”
“Hi, I’m Tabitha, Da—”
I clear my throat. “My sister. This is my sister.”
My heart is racing.Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t get a read on Luka’s face. Is he surprised? Especially considering I told him I didn’t have any siblings yesterday. Oh, dearGod, I’m going to have to abort this operation, aren’t I?
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Luka replies, seemingly unfazed.
“So you’re the Prince Charming who’s swept my sister off her feet, hm?”
Luka chuckles. “Did she call me that?”
“No, but I know that’s what she’s thinking.”
“Are you girls headed home?” I ask, just a touch too loud. “You really shouldn’t be out this late. It’s dangerous.”
Tabitha rolls her eyes. “It’s notthatdangerous. Besides, we’re only a couple of blocks away—”
“Either way, you should get going,” I interrupt.
My guts tie themselves into impossible knots. Dammit, did she seriously just give away that our apartment is in this neighborhood? I can only pray Luka is only half listening, but I know better. Judging by the way he tilts his head and watches me with intrigue, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s starting to doubt my identity.
