Page 3 of Covert Temptation

Shaw was dead before he hit the ground. One shot right between the eyes.

The sniper was a pro.

Dante looked around, glasses recording everything, but it was too late to save Shaw. He shoved a marshal toward cover, even though he didn’t expect more shots to come.

He touched his ear, opening the link between him and his commanding officer. “Shaw is down!”

“Fuck! How?”

“Headshot. A sniper.”

“Dammit.We expected street-level muscle, not a sniper.”

Anger rushed up from the pit of Dante’s stomach. “If I was lead on this op, I would have put more security in place. I could have stopped it!” Dante still crouched low, out of range, scanning every rooftop and window so the glasses could pick up what they’d missed.

The other guards were hovering over Shaw, but they knew there was no hope for the man. They’d failed.

They’d all failed.

“I’m fucking tired of being in the background.” Dante’s words were clipped. “There was a leak. Someone knew every move we were going to make.”

A beat of silence followed his statement. Then Con’s tone came out sharp, edged with purpose. “And you’re just the guy to find out who.”

Dante’s pulse kicked like a high-powered rifle. He might hate being stuck in the shadows, but he did enjoy a good hunt.

Game on.

* * * * *

Safe.

The word echoed inside Kennedy’s head like a cruel joke. This place—the bare-bones apartment the special ops team had stashed her in—might technically qualify as safe but there was nothing that held up the “house” part with any meaning.

Sure, no one knew she was here. The reinforced steel door couldn’t be breached. The buzzer outside was unmarked, and the blinds were always drawn. But she had nothing but shadows and concrete walls for neighbors.

Safety had never felt so much like a prison.

She sat on the stiff couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in the spartan apartment besides a bed with an equally stiff mattress she barely slept on and a tiny dining table with a single chair.

The heater clanked like it was kicking for every breath of its life, but it never stopped running no matter what temperature she set the thermostat on. It was always so hot in the place that she’d given up on wearing anything but tank tops and yoga pants. Not that she had anybody to impress.

She was okay with just having the essentials. She could adapt. She knew how to paste on a polished smile even when her life was unraveling.

But this time…

She was cut off. Under suspicion.

The special ops team didn’t trust her. When Dante dropped her off here, he had been polite but distant—barely a step up from the irritating jerk he’d been to her all the other times.

The spyware discovered on her phone had been as much of a surprise to her as anyone else.

It ruined her life.

Everything she worked for was gone. Her position as the assistant to Ambassador Alyssa Vargas was no longer hers now that she was accused of leaking Alyssa’s schedule and nearly getting her killed.

That hurt the worst. She considered Alyssa her closest friend—or she had, up until a few weeks ago.

She kept reminding herself that at least Alyssa was safe, guarded by the SEAL team. And Kennedy?

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