Page 27 of The Truths that Deceive

“Marta Krause?” I ask.

A cool smile plays over her perfectly painted lips. “You should know Schmidt knows everyone there is to know.”

Something dark and sharp-edged spins through me. “How did you get in?”

“It was unlocked, so claws back in. I’m your escort, so dress up. Seems Schmidt doesn’t trust you.”

I’m not close enough to the knife, and the black dress she wears is so tight, there’s no way she’s packing under it.

Then again, what did Smith tell me? I’d be surprised by where a woman can hide a weapon.

And the cool smile shifts up a degree in warmth. “I do the boring work now. Desk, liaise, and learn all kinds of interesting things. You weren’t really on the radar of the BND until Schmidt met up with me. All I heard was something about a hacker named Hendrix. Did you steal the blueprints to this weapon?”

“No.”

She blows out a breath and looks at a diamond-encrusted watch on her wrist. “You wouldn’t tell me, anyway. Does the CIA do a high school program?”

I almost snap my age at her, but I hold it in. I don’t even have to look at the door as she turns her back on me and goes to the living room.

“Run, by all means, Baby CIA, but I have people on the ready, and from what I can piece together, you’re going to be safer with Schmidt. There are people with a real hard-on for that weapon and the blueprints.”

I flash her a look of dislike, then shower and do my makeup. Subtle like a grown-up with taste would wear. That’s what this is.

That is, if she’s taking me to the event at all.

I shimmy on the dress and unpack the new wig. Then Iedge to the door. Because if he let her in, but her agenda is something else entirely, then I’m screwed.

But she’s speaking German into her phone. “She’s quite the handful, Schmidt,” she says. “Not your type at all. But she’s in one piece. And you owe me.”

When I’m ready, I walk out, and I note she leaves two plane tickets under an empty glass. I don’t ask but assume they’re for me and Smith. “Let’s go,” Marta Krause says.

She also locks the door with a key, one she hands to me, and I slide it into the hidden pocket on the dress.

It’s a nice ride out to the estate where I assume the fundraiser is being held. At the front door, Marta melts away, and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m thinking of making a run for it when a hand comes around my arm and I’m pulled in tight next to the heat and intoxicating scent of Smith.

“That’s a small taste of what I can do and who I know. Eyes are everywhere. Here and in the States.”

I swallow, a bitter taste in my mouth. Henry. He means my brother.

“Leave him alone, Smith, or I’ll?—”

“What?” he says against my ear, “stomp your foot? Run? I’ll give you a safe word for when we play properly, Calista. You’re into hacking. I’m tempted to go for back door, but that might be playing with fire. How about Code?”

“I don’t want a safe word.”

“Like to live on the edge?” he asks, his hand slipping down the silk of the gown, to the low dip in the back, and I look up. His eyes are blazing blue, locked on to my nipples pushing against the fabric. “Maybe you do.”

“They always do that,” I say, lying. My nipples don’t. It’s taken the cold and a guy’s mouth sucking and tugging to make them like this.

Smith?

He just has to look, and they’re so hard, it’s ridiculous.

“Soft, wet, and hard in all the right places. And hot. Mouth and cunt, Calista.”

“You’re such a bully.”

“No, I just like to play with my food before I devour it. Safe word, no safe word, it’s up to you, but when you run and I chase, when we’re down in the dirt, I see no and yes. The only time I’ll stop is your safe word.”

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