Page 33 of The Echelon (Spy Girl 7)
“Who are you texting?” Lorenzo asks, pulling himself out of the pool and looking completely delicious as the water beads down his tanned torso.
“It’s William Gallagher.”
“Intrepid?” he says, immediately looking concerned as we both hear a helicopter off in the distance.
I glance up in the sky in the direction of the sound. “It’s getting closer.”
“Is he coming for you?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” I grin at him. “But I do remember the time when you came to pick me up from the royal yacht in your helicopter. It was quite the impressive display of jealousy.”
“You weren’t fooled?” he asks, pulling me into his arms.
“Nope.”
“Yet you ignored my advances,” he whispers as his lips graze my neck. “I won’t ignore them now.”
He sits in a chaise, pulls me onto his lap, and kisses me.
“I’d say you have about ninety seconds.”
“You are quite demanding, Huntley, my love. You’re already acting like a queen.”
“Maybe we should consummate our marriage before they get here.”
He lets out a hearty laugh. “I believe we have fulfilled our duties in that regard.”
Moments later, one of the crew is on the deck. “Sir, a William Gallagher is requesting permission to land on the helipad.”
“Permission granted,” Lorenzo replies. When I start to get up, he holds me tight. “You, on the other hand, have not been given permission to go anywhere.”
I arch an eyebrow at him, causing him to roll his eyes.
“I think we should have a duel,” he says.
“So you can try to prove you’re stronger than me?”
“I already know that I’m stronger.”
“Yes, of course,” I say, “but you don’t have my killer instinct.”
“Is that a threat?” he says with a laugh.
I reply with a shrug, but then I kiss him again.
“You’re trying to distract me with your lips.”
“Yes, I am.”
“It’s not going to work,” he says, sliding his hand across my backside and finding my lips again, proving just the opposite.
But, when the helicopter lands, I stop kissing him. “Let’s go see what can’t wait.”
We get up, but Intrepid is out on the sun deck before we get a chance to go meet him.
“The Danish prince needs our help,” he says by way of greeting, looking quite serious.
“We’d better go then,” Lorenzo says.
“We?” I ask.
Lorenzo gives me a shrug.
“Why not?” I say. “You are good for my cover.”
