Page 15 of Over the Edge

My fists clenched, but before I could say a word, the waiter returned with my black coffee and Flynn’s sugar-laden monstrosity. I watched, slightly horrified, as he took a long sip, leaving a faint trace of whipped cream on his upper lip.

He caught me staring and deliberately licked it away. “Something on your mind, princess?”

“You enjoy being annoying, don’t you?”

“I’m not annoying. I’m a delightful ray of sunshine.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching those long legs under the table. His foot brushed mine.

Accidentally? I couldn’t tell.

I shifted away, ignoring the warmth that rippled through me at the brief contact. “Our covers have a strictly professional relationship only.”

Flynn’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You think Moreau will buy that? A man like him watches people, studies them. He’ll see right through us if there’s any...” He paused, searching for the word. “Chemistry.”

“There’s no chemistry.”

“No chemistry? Sweetheart, the periodic table’s jealous of us.” Flynn leaned forward, dropping his voice to a rumble that vibrated straight through me. “Every person in this room can feel it. Moreau will, too.”

I set my cup down with a sharp clink. “I am not pretending to be your lover.”

“Who said anything about pretending?”

“God. You are so?—”

“Charming? Funny? Irresistibly sexy?—”

I cut him off with a slicing gesture through the air. “Insufferable. I was going to say insufferable.”

He grinned. “Admit it, the other stuff crossed your mind first.”

I took a long sip of coffee to ground myself. The bitter heat burned down my throat. When I set the cup down again, I’d wrangled my emotions and expression back in check. “Look, we need to focus. Moreau is dangerous. If we slip up, we’re both dead.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” Flynn said, and the teasing note vanished from his voice. “He doesn’t just bring random people into his inner circle. He’s paranoid. Calculating. If he’s reaching out to Elisa Deveraux, it’s because he wants something specific. My guess? He wants more than a business partnership, if you get my meaning.”

“I know what I’m doing. If he wants sex, and it gets me closer to accomplishing the mission, he can have it. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Flynn went still. The light in his amber eyes extinguished. One second, they were dancing with mischief; the next, they were cold.

“Not happening.” His voice was flat, devoid of inflection.

“Never said it was, Siren. But Moreau’s known for testing his business partners in creative ways. I told you what happened to the MI6 agent in Singapore.”

A chill slid down my spine. This wasn’t playful Flynn. This was the operative behind the charming mask. The dangerous man who’d earned his place inEdge Ops, however temporary it was.

I exhaled slowly. “Okay, and?” I asked, as if he’d just given me a weather report.

Flynn’s jaw tightened. “And Moreau doesn’t like competition. Think about it. You show up alone? He holds all the cards. But if you have someone? If you walk in with a man who already has his hands on you?—”

His gaze flicked downward, and I realized he’d reached for my hand. And I’d let him.

I pulled it away. His gaze lifted to meet mine again.

“If he sees Elisa with a man who very obviously loves her and would take a bullet to protect her, he’s going to take it as a challenge.”

My stomach tightened. “You’re saying this makes me a prize?”

Flynn’s gaze didn’t waver from mine. “Yes.”

My throat felt dry. I took a slow sip of coffee to ease the tightness. I didn’t know what kind of answer I expected—something cocky, maybe. Teasing.

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