Stronger. His voice even seemed deeper, harder, rougher.
When they’d driven from the house, Antony had left his glasses behind. He’d switched to contacts. Such a simple change, but it had altered his appearance. Made him look less like the sexy nerd she enjoyed so much and more like the dangerous spy he actually was. His hair was tousled because he’d been running his fingers through it, and a faint line of stubble skirted along his jaw. Antony had always been clean-shaven in the past, but now just that little bit of stubble had him looking rugged. The black jacket he wore stretched over his wide shoulders and muscled arms. His jeans were faded and ragged. All of the little changes added up. They made him seem different.
Dangerous.
I don’t know him.
“You haven’t said anything,” Antony noted as he pulled the vehicle to a stop near what looked like a rundown bar. They’d left the main streets of Atlanta. Headed out through a series of snaking turns in order to get to their destination.
“What was I supposed to say? I’m kind of in shock seeing the real you.”
“The real me? You’ve always known the real me.” He killed the engine and turned toward her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and made a vague flutter with her fingers toward him. “You’ve got this whole—I’m-bad-and-kick-ass vibe dripping from you.”
“Oh, thanks for noticing.”
“Thanks for—” Her nostrils flared as she exhaled. Heavily. Very, very heavily. “So that was your intent.”
“Of course. We’re not exactly going for a stroll at a ball tonight. So I’m being a little rougher. Different personas for different situations. By the way, love the look you’ve got. I think we match well.”
She’d changed before leaving, too. A simple change, though. Not like she’d adopted a new personality. She’d switched to jeans and a sweater. “How in the hell do we match?”
“Those jeans hug your killer ass and make your legs look like they stretch forever. Sexy as fuck. And that sweater dips over your breasts and slides tight around your waist. Your hair is sleek, and your red lips are hotter than hell. You’ll have every guy in there drooling.”
Exceedingly doubtful. “I’m not here to make anyone drool. I’m here to do my job.”
“You make me drool,” he muttered.
Or at least she thought that was what he muttered. “What did you say?”
“Our target is inside. The Corvette is right there.” He pointed toward the alley.
“What’s the game plan here?”
“We go in, find our guy, and I convince him to have a private talk with us outside. Simple enough.”
“In my experience, things are never as simple as you might expect.” A lesson she’d learned early in life. Her father had been a cop—chief of police back home in Texas. She’d grown up watching him protect and defend, and after majoring in criminal justice in college, she’d enrolled in the FBI Academy. But it hadn’t taken her long to realize that wasn’t the right fit for her.
Too many rules. Too much red tape. Too many starchy suits and people who wanted to toe the line.
She’d gotten into private security. Worked her way up fast. Then she’d landed what she thought was the job of the century. Head of security for Shark Gaming and Design. She’d thought that she’d gotten the job because she was qualified. Because Antony had been impressed with her assessment of his building. But now…
Jeez. Did he just hire me because he thought I would be the easiest candidate to fool? The youngest one, the one who was hungriest for the job? The one who—
“I couldn’t ID the driver of the van. He had on a ski mask in all the traffic cam footage. We need to be extra vigilant because he could be inside with his knife-wielding buddy,” Antony said. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel. “Hold up. Would you look at that? I think it’s our lucky night. Our target is walking to his ride right now.”
He was. The guy with the curly, dark hair had just stumbled from the ramshackle building. Music and laughter followed in his wake before the bar’s door slammed shut.
“Let’s do this.” Antony shoved open his car door. He didn’t even wait for her.
Crap. The man had serious issues with having a bodyguard.
She leapt from the SUV and rushed after him. Ella grabbed his arm. And—
Hell.
The target had just looked up. His gaze collided with hers. A flickering streetlamp shown down on them, so she could see