Page 4 of The Twilight Theft

He latched an arm around me, keeping me upright.

Look flustered. Slide a hand up his lapel.

His arm tightened.

I gave a weak laugh and averted my eyes, dragging the spotlight of attention to the bottle he held next to him.

He looked with me.

Reach for the bottle with left hand. Hook under his breast pocket with right-hand thumb.

Slide.

Slide.

I tilted my head closer to his neck as I eased my grip on the bottle, brushing his fingers and breathing hard. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”

“Are you all right?” He didn’t let go of me or the cleaning fluid. Just held me, staring at our hands.

Final slide with the hand. Hand to my pocket. Back away. Look at the floor. Be embarrassed.I tucked my hair behind my ear, a futile effort as it fell back down to cover part of my face. “Can I have the bottle back? I need to at least pretend I’m still the cleaner, right?”

He released the bottle. As he scanned the length of me, I straightened my shirt and pants, surprisingly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Fine.” I headed for the door. “No funny business? I get to walk out?”

“You swear you weren’t here for Gideon?”

“Cross my heart.” I traced an ex over my left breast, drawing his gaze.

Did he think I fell into him as a come-on?

You’ve been out of the CIA too long, Drew.

That muscle ticked in his jaw again.

A taunt bubbled up inside me, but I tamped it down and hurried out of the bathroom.

Gideon Tremaine stood at the bank of windows, surveying the city. He was a tall man of average build with dark brown skin and tightly cropped gray hair.

“Monsieur Tremaine, I am so sorry!” I kept my eyes off him, hurrying toward the cleaner’s cart by the door. Face down so my hair obscured my features.

I’d used this cover before and the ultra-rich usually looked right through me. But as someone who’d built his empire from the ground up, our team’s research determined he wouldn’t be so oblivious. He’d pay attention and possibly engage me in conversation. If I was stressed, he was as likely to sit me down and ensure everything was all right as he was to kick me out.

But throw in the fifteen minutes I’d been in his private ensuite with his fixer? Hopefully, he’d be more interested in talking with Drew than slowing me down.

“I did not think you would be back so soon.” My hands landed on the cart. “I’ll return later.”

“One moment—” Gideon began, his deep voice soft.

Footfalls sounded behind me, and Drew said, “It’s all right, Gideon.”

I pushed the cart toward the door at double-time.

Drew continued, “We need to discuss business.”

“Of course.”

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