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“Pushing me so soon to inform Ambassador Marchand of your unwillingness to cooperate?”
I raised a brow, studying him. The wanker looked bloody serious. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Helaughed. “No, but it would be worth it just to get another glimpse of your indignation.”
“I’m curious, Officer Kappas; have you found this approach to be effective with colleagues in the past?”
He laughed again. “Many times, in fact.”
“I suppose, then, it shouldn’t surprise me you were dismissed from your position with the CIA. Perhaps your methodologies weren’t as effective as you thought.”
He rested both hands on the table and leaned close enough for me to breathe in the scent of him. My eyes nearly rolled back in my head when his icy-blue ones penetrated mine. God Almighty, the man was so perfectly handsome that he appeared chiseled from stone. He was more so when he smiled and said, “And yet, Nemesis, you’re stuck with me.”
“How are the two of you getting on?” the chief asked from just outside the doorway.
“Swimmingly,” I muttered. Ares stood up straight and chuckled. Rather than react, I pulled a chair out, took a seat, and opened my laptop. “Shall we?” I said, motioning to the opposite side of the table. Ares sat beside me instead.
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Z, laughing as he walked away.
“What are you doing?” I gasped when Ares moved his chair closer to mine.
“I’d like to see if yourmodus operandiis consistent everywhere you work.”
I hated that his close proximity left me breathless. “I’d prefer you not look over my shoulder.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
I swallowed my huff and opened the brief I’d prepared in advance of his arrival. Not that I could concentrate on it, or anything else, for that matter. The man’s scent alone sent my pulse racing.
What in the bloody hell was wrong with me? I’d been down this road before. The exact same fucking road. Had I not learned my lesson? I’d told myself I’d never succumb to a workplace romance again in my life, not even for a shag. Or especially not for one.
I pushed my chair back. “Since you insist on looking over my shoulder, I’ll spare us both. Feel free to read at your leisure. I’ll be in my office, should you have any questions.” I stalked across the corridor, something I’d done too much of today, went inside, and closed the door behind me. It had taken every ounce of self-control I possessed not to slam the damn thing.
Before sitting at my desk, I turned around and locked it. Should thewar godhave any questions, he could knock.
I was reaching for my phone when it rang.
“Hello, Nem. How’s the world of UN task forces?” asked Kennedy “Wren” Whittaker, formerly Kennedy King-Alexander, and daughter of the man who was currentlynotmy boss—Z Alexander.
“Barely tolerable,” I muttered.
Wren laughed. “Fortunately, you remain an official employee of SIS. Please tell me my father isn’t making your life miserable.”
“Only in supporting who the UN’s paired me up with.”
“I heard Ares Kappas was arriving today.”
I’d ask Wren how she knew, but as one of the world’s most infamous spies—whose identity was spoken about in awed whispers by many who believed she was actually a composite of several people in international intelligence rather than a single person—I’d learned my friend kneweverything. It didn’t matter she was essentially retired. She was still privy to secrets us “mere mortals” could never imagine, let alone be made aware of.
“Nem?”
“I’m here. Just once again in awe of you.”
“You, of all people, know I am not worthy of my former reputation.”
I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Exactly.”
