Page 69 of Steel Vengeance

Heat rose in her chest as she thought about Matthew.

He’d seduced her, convinced her to join his shady CIA unit, and then sent her off to die. Had he known all along she wasn’t coming back? Was the whole no-contact rule just a way for him to remain unaccountable?

Asshole.

“If you don’t want to, we’ll figure something else out,” Stitch said. “I get it if you’re nervous. You did just get shot.”

Anger coursed through her veins. No way. Jeremy and Matthew were going down, and if this was going to help it happen, she was in.

“I’ll do it,” she said firmly.

He narrowed his gaze. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Blade slapped his thigh. “Great, we’re on!”

Stitch grinned, and she saw something like pride in his eyes. “I knew you’d say yes.”

Her heart did a teeny-tiny flip. Would she ever stop wanting him?

CHAPTER 25

Stitch stared at Sloane, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

When he’d told her to buy a dress for tonight, he hadn’t expected her to come back with that.

The dusky pink dress hugged her like a silk scarf, showing off every damn curve. It highlighted the swell of her breasts, cinched at her waist, then flared gently over her hips and cute ass, draping around her knees in a soft swirl.

The color was perfect for her pale complexion and dark hair. She’d even found a pair of matching stilettos that made her legs look impossibly long. He couldn’t stop staring at them.

The flowing, three-quarter sleeves hid the bandage on her arm, and her hair was blow-dried into soft waves that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. On top of it all, she smelled incredible.

“Do I look the part?” She cringed at his stunned expression. “Is it too much?”

“No,” he said, quickly. Fuck. Too obvious. “It’s perfect,” he added, and watched as her cheeks turned pink. If he’d thought she was sexy before, he’d been way off. She was off-the-scale exquisite.

As they walked through the lobby of the luxurious Serena Hotel, he wasn’t the only one noticing. Men—young, old, didn’t matter—sent her appreciative looks.

Feeling a surge of possessiveness, he took her arm. She shot him a surprised glance but didn’t say anything.

There was something else, too. She’d lined her eyes, making them stand out even more. Mascara darkened her lashes, and when she blinked at him, his stomach did flips.

He wasn’t used to that. Nerves weren’t usually something he suffered with.

“Blade’s waiting for us in the basement bar,” he said, nodding toward an ornate staircase that curved down from the foyer.

Blade had gone ahead in a separate taxi to case the bar and make sure their target was there. Never walk into a situation unprepared. As they headed toward the stairs, a liveried bellhop stepped in front of them. “Sorry, this area is reserved for a private function.”

Stitch pulled out his American passport.

Sloane, without any ID on her, leaned forward to give the bellhop an eyeful of her cleavage. The guy turned red and quickly lifted the gold rope, letting them through without another word. No local woman would ever pull a move like that.

“Nice one,” Stitch whispered as they descended the marble stairs into the stylishly lit basement lobby. Pot plants flanked the corners, and recessed lighting gave the place a romantic vibe.

“It’s all I could think of,” she whispered back.

Once again, she’d read the situation perfectly.

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