Page 38 of Taking What's Mine

I brush a strand of hair off her cheek, trying not to think too hard about the fact that my feelings for her have blurred far beyond any act. “We’ve got this,” I murmur, voice gentle. “We’ll see what else we can learn. Then we’ll get out of here.”

Her lips curve in a weary smile. “Right. Together.”

For a moment, I forget about the mission, about Morris, about the entire reason we’re here. All I can think about is how her body molds against mine, how her breath feathers against my jaw. But the mission’s always in the back of my mind, reminding me we have bigger goals than just enjoying each other’s closeness. Still, I can’t deny the fierce surge of protectiveness that wells up, urging me to shield her from this world of secrets and seduction.

“Come on,” I say finally, pressing a soft kiss to her temple for show—and maybe for real. “Let’s mingle a bit more, see if anyone else has scraps of information. If we’re lucky, Vera and Trey might introduce us to someone else in Morris’s circle before the night’s over.”

She nods, shifting off my lap with graceful ease. Her dress skims her thighs as she stands, and for a split second, my gaze lingerson that exposed skin, warmth flaring in my chest. Then I push aside the distraction and rise beside her. I extend my hand, and she takes it without hesitation, her touch sending a faint jolt through my system.

As we step back into the main room, the low lights glint off the polished floor. The soft strains of music continue, punctuated by hushed laughter and the occasional murmur of conversations I can’t quite catch. In the distance, I see Trey and Vera dancing close, their bodies swaying in unison. They glance our way, exchanging a knowing smile that suggests they’ll be watching to see if we fit in.

My grip tightens on Isabel’s hand. We may be a million miles out of our comfort zone, but we’re not giving up. If there’s even a sliver of a chance that these connections lead to Morris Rolfe, we’ll take it. Because come what may, I’m not letting her face this alone. And I’m not walking away from this mission until we have the answers we came for.

Chapter 18

Isabel

I take a steadying breath, glancing around the private section of Club Greed like I’m checking for exits—or maybe just a hint of sanity. The dim glow of pink-and-gold lighting bathes the couples dancing nearby, creating a sultry, dreamlike atmosphere. My pulse still thrums from sitting in Lincoln’s lap, the memory of his hand on my thigh sending a ripple of desire through me. But we haven’t found much about Morris Rolfe, and a sliver of frustration eats at me.

Get it together, Isabel, I scold myself silently, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. You can do this. You’ve come this far, pretending to be a woman who’s comfortable in a world of high-end secrets and steamy encounters. What’s a little more flirting? One step at a time.

Next to me, Lincoln’s phone vibrates. He pulls it out, glancing at the screen. “It’s Dean,” he murmurs, worry flickering in his dark eyes.

I stiffen at the mention of my brother. If he knew what we were doing, he’d blow a fuse. But Lincoln’s already stepping away toward a quieter corner, pressing the phone to his ear. He shoots me a quick, apologetic look that says he’ll be right back. I manage a tight nod, watching as he disappears into the shadowy alcove.

Great. Now I’m alone in the middle of a private swingers’ party. My heart starts pounding again, the beat matching the slow, sensual music echoing through the room. I force myself to relax my posture, adopt that poised confidence I’ve been practicing. After all, I’m supposed to be Mrs. Zane, a woman completely at ease in these surroundings.

Trey and Vera reappear from behind a group of dancers. They look every bit as polished and enticing as before—Trey in his crisp suit, Vera in her shimmery gold gown. Their eyes light up when they spot me, and they approach with easy smiles.

“Hey there,” Vera purrs, gliding closer. “Your husband get a phone call?”

I force a casual grin, ignoring the twist of anxiety in my stomach. “Yeah, just some work stuff. He won’t be long.”

Trey offers his hand, palm up. “In that case, let’s keep you entertained while he’s busy. Care to dance?”

I open my mouth to decline—I’d rather wait for Lincoln—but then I remember I’m supposed to fit in. A refusal might come off as shy or standoffish. So I nod, letting out a small laugh. “Sure, why not?”

Vera’s gaze sparkles with approval. She and Trey lead me onto the makeshift dance floor, which is more of a softly lit lounge space than a typical ballroom. A new track plays—low and rhythmic, the bass pulsing at a seductive tempo. Couples sway under the tinted lights, some pressed tight together in ways that make my cheeks warm. I swallow hard, reminding myself that I have to play the part of someone used to this kind of environment.

“Just follow our lead,” Vera says, placing a light hand on my shoulder.

Trey steps behind me, resting his hands gently at my waist. My nerves spike; I’ve never been sandwiched like this before, especially not with two near-strangers. But Vera’s smile is warm, and Trey’s hold remains polite, so I force my muscles to relax and let the music guide me.

We start swaying together, a slow, rocking motion that feels oddly intimate despite our formal clothes. Vera’s in front of me, her gold gown reflecting the lights as she moves her hips in time with the music. Trey’s solid presence at my back keeps me anchored, and I can feel the subtle press of his thighs as he matches my rhythm. It’s a careful dance, a little daring, and entirely out of my comfort zone.

But maybe that’s why I lean into it—why I let myself close my eyes for just a moment and pretend I belong here, in this hush of whispered desire. A hint of spice from Vera’s perfume mingles with Trey’s cologne, a heady mix that sets my heart fluttering. My pulse thrums in my ears, and for a split second, I forget about Morris Rolfe, about Dean’s call, about the entire mission. All I feel is the music, the soft slide of fabric, and the swirl of excitement that I’m doing something so completely new.

Vera steps closer, her lips curving in a sultry smile. “Not so bad, is it?” she murmurs over the pulsing beat.

I let out a shaky laugh. “No. Definitely… interesting.”

Behind me, Trey’s fingers shift slightly on my waist, spreading warmth through the thin material of my dress. He leans in, breath ghosting over my ear. “You’re a natural, and so fucking sexy.”

I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or just part of the play, but I try to accept it with grace. We sway a little more, the music taking on a deeper, bass-heavy undercurrent that seems to resonate in my chest. Vera’s gaze drops to my lips, and my stomach twists with a strange blend of nerves and thrill. I wonder if she’s going to kiss me—if that’s the next step in this seductive dance. Part of me is tempted to see how far I can go, to push my boundaries, but I also can’t shake the knowledge that Lincoln’s somewhere in the background, probably finishing up his call with Dean.

He’ll be looking for me, I realize.

The thought makes me open my eyes—and that’s when I spot Lincoln, leaning against a column at the edge of the dance floor. He’s off the phone, arms folded, and his gaze is locked on me like a laser. My heart kicks. Even from a distance, I can see the clench of his jaw, the set of his shoulders, the way his eyes darken as he watches me. It’s such a fierce look that a hot flush crawls up my neck.

---