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Ah, the honey pot. It was a scenario when an operative used his or her physical attractiveness to get close to a target. Sometimes it was nothing more than a flirtation to distract a target. Their dad was okay with those. Sometimes it was a full-on sexual relationship.
He was a resounding no on those. It was one of his many commandments. God had only come up with ten. Their dad had way outpaced the Almighty.
Thou shalt not fuck for information.
“Dad’s not here, and we can handle it,” Kala assured them all. “We need to look for a new target. Let’s go through Oakley’s associates. Surely there’s someone looking for companionship. We know he’s inviting several people out for the weekend. Hell, let’s take a look at Huisman. He’s pretty young, and I don’t think he’s attached. That might kill two birds with one stone. Dad wants an eval on the dude.”
“Shit.” Lou had gone pale. “Drake already sent us the new target.”
“He also offered to dump the op if we decide it’s too dangerous,” Cooper explained. “The new target might not be as easy to handle as Middleton. He belongs to a banking family known for being ruthless as hell. There are rumors about him abusing his ex-wife. I don’t know that I like this guy. I think we should huddle up and decide on a new plan.”
“We can handle whoever it is.” Kenzie was in synch with her twin. They might argue constantly about a lot of things, but when it came to a mission, they were a united front. “Besides, it might be fun to see how the fucker handles a woman who can easily kill him.”
Lou was shaking her head, and now Tristan cursed, too.
“What?” Tasha hated feeling like she was out of the loop.
Lou turned her laptop screen Tasha’s way. “It’s Darren Nash.”
There he was, his handsome face staring out from the report Drake had sent. Dare was in a suit, standing in an office and looking so serious it made her a bit sad. This was Darren Nash, businessman. This was the man who was ashamed of his needs, not the Dom who’d reveled in their play.
Kala burst into laughter, and Kenzie slapped her twin on the arm, but not before she bit back a laugh of her own.
Cooper frowned. “What am I missing?”
“You know how Tash let off some steam the other night? Meet the man she vented on,” Tristan said, waving a hand across the screen.
“What do we call a honey pot the target’s already gotten a big old taste of?” Kala said between guffaws.
Hell. That was what she would call it.
Total Hell.
* * * *
“You’re reading that?” Brian asked, sinking down into the seat across from him. “I did not take you for a pop culture guy.”
Dare put down the book he’d been perusing. Sort of. He tried to read, but his head kept going back to Tasha. He would read a sentence and then the words would kind of swim in front of him and he’d be right back to her. He’d dreamed of her the night before and woken up to ruined sheets like he was a freaking fifteen-year-old virgin having wet dreams.
He was an almost thirty-year-old man having wet dreams, and wasn’t that pathetic? Worse, he missed her. Genuinely missed her. How could he miss someone he’d spent one night with?
At least the conference started tomorrow, and he could put his mind on the business of making his asshole father even more money.
“Sort of.” Dare stared down at the cover of Dr. Emmanuel Huisman’s memoir. Recapturing My Mind was the tale of how he’d come to forgive his family for his childhood and work with the woman his father had tried to murder. Dr. Rebecca Walsh-Shaw was a renowned neurologist making massive breakthroughs in Alzheimer’s and dementia. Once she’d worked for the Huisman Foundation until Paul Huisman had tried taking her research for his own.
Emmanuel had been a child, and he’d watched as his father had been killed.
It seemed to be a tale of forgiveness and moving on. That might be why Dare couldn’t seem to get into it. He didn’t want to forgive, and he wasn’t even close to being able to move on.
Someone killing his father might be nice though. Goals…
Brian frowned at the book, a look of distaste coming over his handsome face. “I hate celebrity autobiographies. He probably didn’t even write it himself. It’s all for publicity.”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard writing can be a form of therapy.” Dare was sure he might get something out of the book if he wasn’t in such a shitty mood.
He was caught, and there wasn’t going to be any way out until his sister was… What? Through college? She didn’t have a trust fund. She and Johnny were utterly dependent on their father for money. Maybe if they both got decent jobs he would be able to walk away.
