Page 60 of Covert Temptation

“Now you’rereallyshowing off.”

He could almost hear her sexualizing him—and damn if he didn’t want to be sexualized by her. Her smile reflected the sentiment, but her eyes revealed a glint of worry in the deep brown depths.

He unlocked his phone and opened the text.

Con: Great work finding the son. Need you to dig into his past employment. File sent.

Dante: Where’s the file from?

Con: CIA dug it out of their archives.

Dante: The CIA’s archived files?

Con: Yes.

Dante: He was an agent?

Con: No. He was you. Intel. Support.

Dante rocked on his heels a little. Unsure how to feel about that, shaken by their similarities.

The son had once worked for the CIA. That made so much sense…including how he knew how to avoid detection.

Dante’s stomach churned.

He wanted to be out there, boots on the ground with his team, wanted dirt and blood and answers. Instead, he was stuck here half waiting, half hunting.

But maybe this was where he was needed most.

Movement caught his eye. Across the room, Kennedy had stretched out on the old sofa, arms behind her head, legs long and bare, crossed at the ankles like a goddamn challenge to part them.

Why hadn’t she come to him last night?

Why hadn’thegone to her?

He looked away, jaw clenched, and forced his attention back to the phone. After shooting a final text to Con, he moved to the desk and located the file sent to him.

He opened the CIA personnel archive and started his deep dive, fingers flying across the keys as he ran searches through back channels and cross-referenced digital footprints with current public records.

Daniel had wiped almost everything. But not well enough.

Ten minutes in, a smoothie appeared at Dante’s elbow.

He looked up—and Kennedy was there, handing him a shaker bottle like it was no big deal. But as he reached for it, his forearm brushed against hers, and she paused for a second too long.

Something passed between them.

Something warm. Real.

He didn’t speak—just gave her a grateful nod.

She turned away, a private smile curving her lips as she padded back to the couch.

God, he wanted to follow her.

But the file. The job. The mission.

Dante forced himself back to his work.

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