Page 3 of Sweet Little Spies

A gasp came from Aidan. “He wouldn’t.”

“He did.” She knew it because of all the secrecy surroundinghim. Her cousins would stop talking when she walked in a room. Her uncle was anexcellent liar—not a bad trait when working in espionage—but even she could seehe’d been uncomfortable talking to her when she brought up the wedding. “Didyou even have to audition or did the twins finally make all their dreams cometrue?”

Her cousins Kala and Kenzie Taggart had grown up wanting tobe like their mom and dad. Their father—Carys’s uncle—had been a CIA operative,and their mom an information broker. She loved her cousins, but they playeddangerous games. Games that were about to kill her relationship.

Tristan sat there as though he wasn’t sure what to say.

Because his life was classified now.

She felt the wall between them, the wall he’d built withouteven asking how they felt about it.

“Have you had a chance to look at the menu?” The waiterobviously hadn’t noticed the tension.

Carys put her napkin on her plate and moved to pick up herpurse. “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”

“Carys,” Tristan began and his voice had gone deep and low.

He was the Dom in the relationship. The one who neededcontrol to be fully himself. Aidan liked to drift between roles, and she wasthe sweet sub.

But even a sub knew when to walk away.

She shook her head. “You don’t get to use your Dom voice onme, Tristan.”

Aidan started to stand.

She shook her head. “Don’t. You need to make your peace withhim so we can see if we can move on. I’ll be fine because I’m going to walk oneblock down to Top and get a drink, and you can pick me up there when you’redone.”

“Carys Taggart,” Tristan began.

Aidan held out a hand. “Give her a minute, man, unless youwant her to explode.”

Tristan settled back down. “This isn’t over.”

Carys walked out. Because it sure felt like it was.

* * * *

“I think I’ll have another Scotch on the rocks. The Macallan20.” Tristan sat back and forced himself not to run after the love of his life.She didn’t understand. She couldn’t possibly understand, but if Aidan was stillsitting here, he had a chance.

“Just bring the bottle,” Aidan said, his jaw going stubborn.

Oh, this could get nasty. Aidan was punishing him via creditcard. The good news? His credit card didn’t have a limit.

The waiter’s focus went back to Tris, his eyes going wide.“Sir, the cost would be…”

Horrifically expensive. Yeah, he got it. Nothing matteredexcept placating Aidan right now. “We’ll take two glasses, and have the chefmake some chicken wings.”

“We don’t have those on the menu.”

This poor guy. “And yet he will make them. Tell him I’m inthe presidential suite.”

“Of course.” The waiter turned and walked back inside.

He should have done this in his suite. In the suite, hecould have shown her this wasn’t the end. In the suite, he could have gottenher underneath him, and there would be no question about how he felt.

“You’re a coward.”

Tristan closed his eyes and took a long breath. He’d knownthis would be a difficult conversation. “How? Because I assure you there’s nota lot cowardly about the work I’m doing. I’m putting myself in harm’s way formy country. I’m sorry I couldn’t be some office worker for you.”

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