Page 64 of Over the Edge

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right.”

That easy acquiescence surprised me. I narrowed my eyes, suspicious.

“What? I can be reasonable,” he said, adjusting himself with a grimace. “Sometimes.”

I snorted and moved to the closet where my bag had been placed. “We need to be careful. Moreau’s watching us too closely.” I pulled out a sleek dress the color of blood that hugged every curve—the kind of thing Elisa would wear to an auction of illegal weapons. “He’s looking for weaknesses.”

“And he found one,” Flynn said quietly.

Our eyes met in the mirror as I slipped the cover-up off my shoulders. “Me?”

“No.” His expression was a complicated mix of frustration and hunger. “Me.”

I stared at him. Flynn Shepherd, the lone wolf who never needed anyone, had just identified himself as the weak link in our operation. Because of how he felt about me.

“Flynn—” I started, but he cut me off with a shake of his head.

“I know what you’re going to say. My feelings are a liability. I’m compromising the mission.” He crossed to the window, staring out at the darkening sea. “But the problem is I don’t give a damn about the mission when he puts his hands on you.”

“We can’t afford that mindset. Not now. Not with Sentinel in play.”

“I know,” he said, his voice rough. “But I’m not sure I can stop it.”

I stepped behind the dressing screen, stripping off my swimsuit and sliding into the dress. The silk fit like liquid, the neckline plunging dangerously low, the double slits all the way to my hips allowing me easy movement.

“You have to,” I said, stepping out from behind the screen. “For both our sakes.”

Flynn turned, and the naked hunger in his eyes as he took in my appearance made my breath catch. “Christ, Lyric.”

“Like what you see?” I couldn’t help the teasing smile that played across my lips, even as I knew I was playing with fire.

“You know I do.” His voice was rough gravel. “Every man on that deck is going to want you.”

“But only one of them is going to get what he wants.” I stepped closer, adjusting his tie that had come loose during our moment of indiscretion. “Moreau. Because he has what we need.”

Flynn’s jaw tightened and he caught my wrist, his thumb brushing over my pulse point. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t need you to like it. I need you to keep it together tonight. No matter what happens, no matter what I have to do?—”

“What you have to do?” His voice was dangerously quiet. “What exactly are you planning to do, Lyric?”

I met his gaze unflinchingly. “Whatever it takes to secure Sentinel.”

“Including sleeping with him?” The words were barely more than a growl.

“If that’s what it takes to maintain cover and complete the mission, then yes.” I kept my voice steady, though the thought made my skin crawl. “That’s the job, Flynn. Sometimes it’s ugly.”

“No. That is not happening.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

His grip tightened. “The hell I don’t.”

“Stop it.” I yanked my wrist from him and shoved both hands against his hard chest. He didn’t move. “I don’t need your permission. I’ve been doing this long before you crashed into my operation, and I’ll be doing it long after you’re gone.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes and he backed up a step. “I told you I’m not going anywhere. I never thought of myself as a one-woman man. I thought I liked my freedom, but I was wrong. You’re it for me.”

I stared at him in complete shock. Who says something like that after less than a week? It was insane. Impossible.

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