else about your target. She appears to be a, um, very good dancer. She’s limber. Flexible. Look at how she can undulate her hips and—”
“Fuck off, Antony.”
“Yes, consider me fucking off.”
Dex’s gaze narrowed on the security feed. Lacey’s dark hair was loose and tumbling over her shoulders. Her jeans fit her legs like a second skin, and the sexy, white top she wore slid off one shoulder. The dick dancing with her had his hands way too close to Lacey’s pert ass.
I will be breaking those hands.
He forced his back teeth to unclench. “In an hour, I expect you to have intel I can use.”
“Uh…if you could be more specific—”
“I already have been specific.” There was no audio with the feed, just a visual but the music in the club had obviously changed. The couple started gliding together slowly. Unacceptable. “I want to know everything about her. Good, bad, and all the secret parts in between.” He turned on his heel. “Now excuse me, but I have to make sure that bastard gets his hands off my fiancée.”
“Oh, sweet hell.” Antony’s shocked voice followed behind him. “That poor woman is engaged to you?”
He paused at the door and looked back. Antony’s horrified stare was on him. Dex tossed the guy a grin. “Not yet, but before the night is over, she will be.”
***
“Another dance?”
Lacey Amari forced a smile to her lips. She loved dancing. It was the perfect way to let off steam after a long day, and her day had been killer. Emphasis on the killer part. She’d ended her protection detail for a Broadway actress by stopping the stalker who wanted to attack the woman. The takedown had been textbook, but facing off with someone who had a gun aimed at her had left Lacey battling the aftereffects of a vicious adrenaline rush.
Dancing usually helped her with the rush.
But the fellow before her—Aidan something—was getting a little too close. She could tell by the look in his eyes—and the expression on his face—that he thought the night was going to end with more than just dancing.
He was wrong. She didn’t pick up strangers in bars. With her line of work, she knew exactly how dangerous the world could be. No, when it came to lovers, she was very, very selective.
And that was probably why she was in the middle of a dry streak.
Aidan’s fingers trailed over her side. “The band is about to play something slow and romantic. I’d sure love to have you in my arms again while we—”
“First, stop touching her.” The voice was low, hard, and coming from right behind Aidan.
Lacey couldn’t help but gasp because that voice—oh, no. It was familiar to her. And not in a good way. More in the please-God-let-me-be-wrong kind of way.
“Second, you’re wasting your time. She’s not sleeping with you. You’re playing a million miles out of your league, and you just need to be grateful for the time that she spent with you. Call that a win and drag your ass over to someone else.”
Lacey knew she wasn’t wrong about the voice. It was definitely familiar. The kind of voice that would haunt your nightmares.
Aidan had stiffened. His gaze was on her face as the speaker delivered his flat announcement. Aidan’s hold tightened on her.
“So, you’re still touching her, and I did warn you about that. It was my first point—”
Aidan spun to face the other man. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m the guy telling you to get lost.” A shrug. “And you’re the guy who needs to listen.”
Aidan puffed up his chest in that annoying way men could do as he headed—with his chest out—forward. “Like I need to listen to anything you say!”
“Um, Aidan,” she began. This wouldn’t end well. Aidan was completely outmatched, and he didn’t even realize it.
Because he was facing off against Dexter Ryan. She’d been right about the unforgettable voice, and now that she could see his face…
Hello, Dex.
Tall, broad shouldered. Carrying a relaxed air of power. With kind of a…screw-the-world attitude clinging to him. He wore battered jeans and a faded t-shirt. He didn’t look at all like the type of man who managed one of the world’s biggest spy operations.
But he was.
“Your hair is darker,” she blurted. It was. She was sure it had been a bit blonder the last time—
“You know me, sweetheart,” Dex murmured without looking her way. His focus was on Aidan. “I am a chameleon.”
Yes, because the super spy looked just like all the other guys