Page 38 of Locked and Loaded

Just like that? We go get her. Like it was simple. Like he'd already decided it was going to happen and the only thing left to work out was the details.

Lennox stopped at the corner of the desk, close enough that she could see the tiredness around his eyes. He'd been up for as long as she had. Longer, probably. And he was still working.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked.

His jaw flexed once, and he looked at the laptop screen for several seconds before answering, "I told you."

"No, you told me someone tried to kill me. That's not the same thing. Why do you care?"

Dragan was quiet for a moment. Then he closed the laptop. The room fell into deeper shadow, lit only by the wall sconce behind him.

"Your sister got mixed up with some people who are causing my boss trouble. I want them. She's the best way in. You're the best way to her." He said it without apology, without trying to dress it up. "That's the truth. It's not noble. But it's honest."

Lennox looked at him for a long moment. "I don't need noble. I need effective."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Then we're a good match. I’ve never been accused of being noble."

The words hung in the air between them.

Completely still, he watched her. That was the thing. He was watching her the way he'd watched her at the hotel, at the table by the pool, as if he was reading something in her face that she hadn't decided to show him yet. It made her feel exposed.

It made her feel seen.

She took a breath. It was a terrible plan. It was manipulative. It was unfair.

It was also the only one she had.

She moved before she could talk herself out of it.

One step brought her around the side of the desk. Another brought her into his space, close enough that her knee brushed his thigh. She saw his eyes flicker, a slight tightening at the corners, but he didn't pull back. He didn't move at all. He just watched her.

"You've been working too hard," she said, and her voice came out lower than she'd intended. "You should take a break."

"Should I?"

He didn't say it like a question. He said it like he was curious to see what kind of break she intended. What she'd do next.

She leaned down, one hand bracing on the arm of his chair. Her face was inches from his. The clean sweat, something woody, the faint remnants of the spices from the kitchen wafted into her senses, rendering him that much more appealing. Up close, she noticed a scar on his forearm was one of several. There was another at his hairline, thin and pale, and a small crescent near the corner of his mouth that she hadn't noticed before.

Her pulse raced. She'd expected to have to fake the attraction, to have to talk herself into the next step. Annoyingly, her body seemed well and truly on board without her help.

"You saved my life tonight," she said. "I never thanked you."

"You don't have to,” he said, still watching her.

"I want to."

She leaned down and hesitated just the tiniest fraction before her lips met his.

It started soft. The plan was soft. A gentle brush of her mouth against his, enough to make him close his eyes, enough to make him reach for her. And he did reach for her. His hand came up and settled on her hip, soft pressure through the fabric of her dress, and she felt the heat of it like a brand.

Her left hand rested on his shoulder. Her right hand was moving, slow and careful, down the side of her own body toward his lap. Toward the pocket. Toward the key.

She deepened the kiss. Her mouth opened under his, and he responded, and for a split second she forgot about the key entirely. Forgot about the plan. Forgot about everything except the way his hand tightened on her hip and the way his mouth moved against hers like he'd been waiting for this.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

Her fingers brushed the edge of his pocket. The denim was warm from his body. She could feel the shape of the key beneath it, hard and promising. Another inch and she'd have it.