“Amazing. Try one.” She held out a wrap. When he leaned forward to take it, his fingers brushed hers.
Heat shot up her arm. From the way his eyes darkened, he felt it too.
She swallowed, his gaze holding hers.
Hopefully he liked the floor because?—
Movement near the restaurant’s entrance caught her attention. Two figures being seated across the dining room—a silver-haired man in an expensive linen shirt, and a striking dark-haired woman with sharp cheekbones. The man moved with the confidence that came from wielding power.
Leonid Volkov.
“Don’t look now,” Chloe murmured. “Target acquired. Two o’clock.”
Skeet’s posture didn’t change. His eyes tracked the reflection in the window beside them. “Confirmed. With a companion.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Patience. We finish dinner like the happy honeymooners we are, then follow when he leaves.” He picked up another wrap.
Whatever.She could barely hear him over the thunder of her heart.
Their main courses arrived. They ate while keeping watch on their target. Volkov and his companion spoke in low, intense conversation. Volkov kept a hand on her chair, possessive.
Chloe and Skeet lingered over dessert and coffee, playing the part of tourists in no hurry.
When Volkov stood, Skeet paid, then pulled out her chair. Offered her his arm. “Shall we take that walk now, darling?” Skeet asked loudly enough for nearby tables to hear.
The restaurant’s terrace opened onto a different world. Live music drifted from a small stage where musicians played traditional Thai instruments. Couples swayed on a the dance floor while others sat in lounge chairs around the terrace, drinking wine and listening.
Chloe spotted Volkov and his companion heading toward the elevated walkways that led to the villa section. “There. Moving toward the tree houses.”
She and Skeet followed at a distance as their targets made their way onto the resort’s elevated walkways. Teak boardwalks lit by soft lanterns connected the villas through the treetops. The night sounds of the jungle—insects chirping, leaves rustling, the distant crash of waves—muffled the sound of their footsteps.
Volkov’s villa rose from the forest, larger than theirs. Through gaps in the foliage, lights blazed inside. Shadows moved behind curtained windows.
“Can you hear anything?” she whispered.
Skeet shook his head. “Too much ambient noise. We need to?—”
A twig snapped.
Volkov was walking back toward them, his silhouette unmistakable in the lantern light. In seconds, he would see them standing on the pathway.
She turned to Skeet just as his hand cupped her face.
Then his lips were on hers.
Soft at first, almost hesitant, because it was just an act.
But it should at least look real, right?
Maybe Skeet thought that too, because when she didn’t pull away, it deepened. His thumb traced her cheekbone while his other hand settled at the small of her back, drawing her closer, deepening his kiss. He tasted like wine and the exotic tropical night.
And she was all in, losing herself in the moment, the pretend. For the cause.
But this man—oh, he was adventure and yet safety, the perfect mix of charming and bossy. Andshoot,she liked kissing him. Really liked it. He kissed like a man who knew how to make a woman feel wanted. Not pushy, but just enough desire to spark something inside her. Trust, maybe. Or even... longing.
And just like that, Chloe forgot about the mission. Forgot about Volkov walking toward them. Forgot about everything except the warmth spreading through her chest and the way her hands fisted in his shirt and drew him closer.