Page 91 of Wicked Intentions (Wicked Games 3)
“Like a bulletproof vest wouldn’t be obvious,” says Connor, dismissing the idea with a shake of his head.
“I don’t need body armor. I’ll have my seamstress make me a dress.”
When everyone looks at me blankly, I smile. “She’s not a regular seamstress.”
“Nanotechnology?” Tabby asks.
I take a moment to marvel at how she seems to know something about everything, then respond. “Yes, exactly.”
“Like the Kevlar suits the troops used in Iraq?” Ryan asks.
I nod. “Only the fabric is much thinner, and far more stylish. It will look like just a regular dress, not impenetrable body armor.”
“Cool.”
I can’t help but smile at Ryan’s and Connor’s identical expressions of awe. “Just one of the perks of being an international criminal, guys.”
Something happens to Ryan’s face. His expression changes, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking until he speaks. “You gonna miss that? Your old life? Your old friends?”
“I don’t have any friends, or what you could call an actual life.” I answer more sharply than I intend because I’m still rattled by all the terrible memories that talking about Nina and Capo have evoked.
But Ryan softens all my sharp edges when he says, “You have friends, Angel. They’re right here in this room.”
My throat tightens. The hot prick of tears threatens at the back of my eyes.
“And as for a life, it sounds like you and lover boy here got all sorts of plans for that already,” Connor drawls. “Paris, Morocco, oysters…” His grin is huge. “He’s not ever gonna want to come back to work.”
“That’s right,” says Ryan, staring hard at me. “Gonna need some paid sick leave, ’cause I’ll be too chapped and dehydrated to work for a few months.”
Tabby wrinkles her nose. “Yuck. Just got a gnarly visual of your chapped junk. Thanks for that.”
“We done for now?” Ryan asks Connor. He’s still looking at me.
“Yeah, go on. I’ll call the agency and get it together. Mariana, what’s the address of this joint you call the Palace?”
I give it to him.
“They’re gonna need to meet with all of us before the op. Paperwork, briefing, the whole enchilada. Seeing as how we don’t have much time until you need to be in London, it’ll be soon. Why don’t you both go home and get some rest.” Connor chuckles as Ryan and I continue to stare at each other. “Or whatever.”
Tabby gives me a hug before we leave. Ryan and Connor hug, too, thumping each other on the back so hard, I’m sure there will be bruises.
As we walk out the door, I stop. “Wait! You haven’t shown me the diamond!”
Ryan only smiles. “I never said it was here, darlin’.”
* * *
I spend the ride back to Ryan’s in even deeper thought than I spent on the ride over. Thinking of what’s ahead of us, of all the possible things that could go wrong, my brain is scrambled eggs. I keep a calm demeanor, though, and keep my hand in Ryan’s loose and light so he doesn’t guess what I’m going through and change his mind about allowing me to take part in what’s by far the most dangerous job I’ve ever attempted.
If I fail, Reynard dies. If I fail, I die. If Capo discovers Ryan’s part in the plan, Ryan dies. So do Connor, Tabby, anyone associated with Metrix…basically everyone I’ve been in contact with, including people I haven’t been in contact with yet, but will, like the FBI agents I’ll meet before we go. Hell, the boys from the Smithsonian might even be in danger.
Basically, the plan should be called If Anything Goes Wrong, Everyone Dies.
“I promise it’s gonna work out,” Ryan says firmly.
I should’ve known he’d guess what I’m feeling. The man’s intuition is almost female. “This telepathy of yours is spooky. Have you ever considered a job in the field of psychic readings? You’d make a fortune.”
“Nah,” he says, sending me a wink from the driver’s seat. “I can’t see the future. Only what’s right in front of my face.” He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it.
