Page 11 of Deadly Holiday Kiss

"No one's home?" I ask.

"Most of them are at the gala or out of the country."

"Why?"

"Christmas is one of the most active times for contracted killings."

"Really?"

"Everyone's so busy with the holidays, they don't pay it much attention."

"That makes sense." I hum and lean back in my seat.

Eventually, Ethan turns off the headlights and makes a left turn, driving down the street until the car comes to a stop and he shuts off the engine. I turn my head to look at the modest two-story house just beyond the windshield; all the lights in thehouse are off, and there is no sign that the man has gone home. "Are you sure he's here?"

"Yes," he says, and my attention lands on Ethan holding out his phone, which shows a map with our location as a blue dot and the target as a red dot right next to each other.

He opens the driver's door with a muted click and is out before I can react, circling to my side in a few long strides, reaching down to open my door, and offering me his hand with a smug smile. I roll my eyes. "Back to being a gentleman," I say, letting my gaze linger a little longer on his face. Even though the mask didn't hide all of his features, he's even more handsome than I expected.

I slip my fingers into his palm. His hand is warm, strong and rough, while my skin is soft against his. He assists me out of the car, his grip lasting a little longer before he lets go.

"So." I cross my arms and lean slightly toward him. "What's the plan, exactly? Just walk in and say hello?"

The corner of his mouth lifts, an annoying, confident smirk. "Something like that."

I tilt my head, feigning innocence. "Something like that? I'm curious how you're going to make a grand entrance with, I assume, security present."

He chuckles, a low, dangerous sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "That is taken care of," he says, "His security is... let's just say they've been reassigned."

"Reassigned, huh?"

"Reassigned," he replies, his gaze shifting to the house, his tone flat. The way he says it—quiet and matter-of-fact—makes my skin tingle. A small smile spreads across my face as I keep my eyes on him.

"I didn't think you were the type to play it that safe, Ethan." He is still looking at the house, studying it with the ease of someone who's been here before, who knows every window,every door, every flaw in the lock. It’s annoying how calm he is—how he seems to glide through each move, prepared for every possibility.

He lets out a breath, barely a laugh, and leans in close, his face just a whisper away from mine. "And I didn't think you were the type to ask so many questions, sweetheart."

The way he sayssweetheartscrapes at my heart in a way that's far too pleasurable. Heat creeps up my neck and spreads across my cheeks. I turn my attention back to the house, concentrating on the task at hand. If he's already cleared the place out, that means we have a clean shot. A thrill dances through me as I imagine it. No barriers, no guards, just the two of us closing in on Richmond.

"Well, I suppose I should thank you for making things so convenient," I say, raising my voice to a sweetly sarcastic tone. I then brush past him, just close enough for him to feel the soft sweep of my shoulder against his arm. "Let's not keep the poor man waiting too long, shall we?"

His long fingers wrap around my arm, this time separated by the layer of my coat and the leather gloves on his hands, pulling me back just a step. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I told you, we work together. Unless you have a problem with that?" I can feel the tension in his body through his fingers flexing around my arm. For a second, we're both silent, just the two of us under the hazy glow of the front yard's decorative lights.

I turn and meet his gaze, catching the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The way he looks at me—dark, serious, yet somehow amused—makes my heart leap in my chest.

"Oh, I don't have a problem with that," I say, bringing my free hand up to his face, cupping his cheek in my palm, and running my thumb over his scruff. "But I still like to think of this as a friendly competition."

Ethan doesn't move, doesn't blink. Then he steps back, just enough to gesture toward the house with a mock bow, one eyebrow raised. "Ladies first."

It's my turn to roll my eyes, but I take the lead anyway, feeling his gaze linger on me, watching my every move. I'm going to make him regret inviting me into this.

The porch creaks under our weight as we approach the door, the sound echoing in the silence around us. I glance back at Ethan, who hovers just a step behind me, his presence a dark shadow at my back. His expression is unreadable. With each step closer to the actual task, his demeanor changes to a different man than the one I met at the gala.

"What if it's locked?"

"That's never stopped me before. But I’m pretty sure it isn’t," he replies, cool and collected.

"How can you be so sure that it isn't?" I ask, raising an eyebrow as I let the words roll off my tongue.

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