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I take a deep breath and try to center myself, but I only succeed in getting a big lungful of Alessa’s heady perfume.
I need to get into that casino tonight. If that means a visit to a private room first, I’ll do that. But I can’t bear the idea of broadcasting our intimate moments to the world.
Or the team, at least.
“I’ll tell you what,” I say, trying to sound casual, “why don’t you give me a minute to freshen up first? Then I’ll meet you in the private room.”
“Of course, darling.” Alessa squeezes my arm gently before releasing me. “The restroom is just down the hall, and I’ll be waiting for you in the Scarlet room again. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
I nod, unable to trust my voice, and head toward the bathroom. The moment the cubicle door closes behind me, I lean against it, struggling to slow down my panic.
If I go into that private room, there’s every chance in the world that she’ll discover that I’m wired.
I strip off my blouse, carefully peeling off the wire and the tape that secured it to me.
If Alessa inspects me and finds it, I’m finished. I can’t even keep it in my clutch. But if I can come back here afterward…
There’s a small trashcan in the powder room under each sink. I’ll just have to pray like hell they don’t get emptied before I can get back here to retrieve the wire. That’s my only chance to still complete the mission.
I wash my hands and lean down to throw the wire away, balled up in the paper towel I used to dry my hands.
And I stare at myself in the mirror, wondering again…
Who am I?
Who is it that Alessa is so attracted to?
Because this woman staring back at me is a stranger.
But none of that really matters right now. When I leave this room, Agent Miller stays behind. Tonight I need to be Natalie Moreau, wealthy socialite ensnared by the charms of Alessa de Luca.
For better or worse, I’ve made my choices.
I take a final steadying breath and reapply my lipstick—a splash of color, armor for the role I must play.
Showtime.
I push open the door and step out to find her.
* * *
I knock on the door of Scarlet and it opens at once.
“Come in,” Alessa says, grabbing me and yanking me in with a wicked smile.
The private room’s ambiance tonight is a blend of luxury and intimacy—low lighting warms the polished wood surfaces, and there is a huge floral arrangement in front of the mirror. Romantic, yet tasteful.
Alessa guides me to the chaise, handing me a glass of Syrah that she’s already poured. The tastes of oak and blackberry coat my tongue.
“I want to play a little game,” she tells me, her eyes glinting with mischief.
My thoughts flash hopefully to the casino. “What kind of game?” I ask.
“Oh, just a silly bit of fun between us girls.”
She removes her scarlet stilettos and curls up cat-like on the chaise, beckoning me over. When I sit, she slides behind me, gathering my hair and beginning to twist it into an elaborate braid. Her fingers work deftly, occasionally grazing my neck. I relax into her touch, allowing myself to simply savor her closeness.
“Truth or dare?” she asks playfully.
