Page 39 of Operation Heartbeat

“You make that sound so often, I’m beginning to think you need to see a doctor.”

“I don’t need a doctor.” His eyes flashed like black steel. “What do you need code words for? You’ll never be far enough away from me to need a code word. Especially in that dress.”

She blinked, any words she was about to say flying from her mind at his mention of her dress. “Is that your way of giving a woman a compliment, Con?”

She swore she saw his eyelid twitch. The man was never going to pull off this newlywed farce if he was acting so stiff. She was only trying to loosen him up a bit.

“How about this for a code? Newlyweds often have discussions about money. Our code for the bank is ‘I need that money, honey.’”

“I’m sure no one will ever figure that out.”

“A restaurant is nom-nom time.”

He snorted. “Cute. But I’m never saying that.”

Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

“But I meant it about the dress. You look gorgeous.”

Nowshemade a noise inherthroat. A soft, feminine mewl that wasn’t like herat all.

Sophie Edwards was levelheaded, especially around men. She dealt with male colleagues, and over the years, she had to shut more than a couple of them down. But knowing that Con thought she looked good made her want to take off all her clothes.

He broke the moment by waving a hand toward the door. “Shall we go?”

She nodded. “We’re catching a lift?”

“We have a car waiting.”

“How did you manage that?”

He shoved the glasses back on his face, and she was pretty sure her ovaries exploded right there and then. If Con wanted, he could read the book of her body in Braille.

She couldn’t be thinking about her temporary partner this way. Or maybe she should—it would definitely make things easier in this pretend role of his wife.

No one would be quizzing her about how her “husband” tasted, but ohhh, she could describe that in detail.

When he guided her out of the hotel, she was completely aware of how tense he was because the fingers he stretched along her spine felt like five iron daggers. They passed swiftly through the lobby where people milled around checking in to their rooms or passing through to the fine dining restaurant.

Outside, Sophie was stunned to see the sun sitting low in the sky. She’d lost all track of time here in Turkey.

A sleek black car was parked in front of the glass double doors, and without even checking to see who was behind the wheel, Con led her to the back and held open the door for her to slip inside.

She immediately looked at the driver. He didn’t speak to her but simply gave Con a nod of greeting.

Suddenly, her joke of being a spy didn’t seem so funny anymore. Nom-nom time? What was she thinking? She wasreallyplaying this dark, frightening game.

At her side, Con sat at ease, his arm resting along the back of the seat behind her. She fiddled with her small handbag that held her fake ID and a tube of lipstick. If she was actually a trained spy, she’d have a little gun stowed in her bag too.

A shiver rolled through her.

Con turned his head to look at her, and she gave him a small smile to show that nothing was off. Nothing amiss at all as they headed to a party filled with strangers who would see straight through her and Con’s act if they made one mistake.

Was this even a job for a SEAL? She thought only the CIA performed tasks like this.

The city streaked past her window, and she barely had time to take anything in before they pulled up in front of a huge estate. Three other couples were getting out of cars too, each more luxurious than the last.

Without a word to the driver, Con climbed out, one long leg clad in excellent Italian lightweight wool extending to the ground. He reached out a hand for Sophie, and she took it.

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