Page 10 of Avenging Jessie
Jessie
Back in her suite,Jessie ripped off the heels first—obscene things—and dropped them like twin daggers onto the carpet. Her feet already ached from wearing them after only a few minutes. How was she going to make it for hours at the gala?
Her shoulder blades were pinched from the tension of pretending. Pretending to be calm, charming, and beautiful. How unnatural that had felt. Once, she’d never doubted her looks and what they could do for her, in the field or in her personal life. Now she didn’t see herself in the same way, and never would again.
The worst, however, had been pretending she hadn’t wanted to lean into Spence and kiss the hell out of him when he finished pinning her stupid wig.
She cursed under her breath and yanked the drawer on the nightstand open, pulling out her go-kit. Comms, listening devices, miniature trackers, a lipstick camera. She sorted them to calm her nerves and prepare for the evening ahead, each device offering a measure of control she no longer felt in her bones. She’d trained for chaos. But tonight felt personal, and that could make her sloppy.
“You let him in too far,” she muttered, shoving another tracker into her satin clutch. “Should’ve kept your guard up. Should’ve shut the damn door and bolted it before you let him touch you.”
But she hadn’t. And now they were playing dress-up together, and somehow, it mattered. Not just for the mission. Not just because of Keller or Brewer. It mattered because when Spence looked at her the way he just had, he saw the woman underneath the bruised loyalty, the fractured pieces. He didn’t flinch at the scars. He admired the fire.
A knock sounded from the connecting door.
“It’s time,” he said, voice steady.
Her fingers froze on the clasp of her clutch. She took a deep breath and counted to ten.
Another knock. “J?”
Pressing her lips together and steeling her spine, she went to the door, opened it, and froze.
He looked like he’d walked out of a billion-dollar gala advertisement—tailored tux hugging lean muscle, his dark hair slicked back just enough to highlight cheekbones that should be illegal. His eyes scanned her in return, as if memorizing the woman who now wore blush instead of blood.
Her pulse was skipping far too fast, and her breath felt stuck in her chest. She cleared her throat and yanked her emotional armor into place as she tugged the shoes from hell back on. “Well, you clean up all right.”
He smirked. That grin, so full of himself, made her knees weak. “You’re the one who’s going to turn heads. Ready to ruin some folks’ nights?”
“Hell, yeah.”
He extended his arm. It was a small gesture. Civilized. Gentlemanly.
And it felt like stepping off a cliff—without a parachute.
Jessie hesitated, kicking herself for feeling so…scared. Touching him, acting like his wife, it was too much.
And something she still had to do.
She yanked the armor closer. Layered more on. Then she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow.
The strength there was steady. Trustworthy. She hated how much she liked it. When was the last time she’d leaned on someone?Too long.
The limo waited downstairs, sleek and black. The drive to the gala passed in a blur of streetlights and nerves. Spence went over their cover stories ad nauseam, but she could barely concentrate, the feel of him next to her overwhelming. He was wearing a subtle cologne of leather and cedar that teased her senses, making it hard to focus.
The ballroom sparkled and sucked them in. Gilded chandeliers, violins humming overhead, glittering gowns, men with medals and bloodstained secrets. Women with diamonds and claws.
“Let’s mingle,” Spence said.
He scanned for Hastings, and she analyzed security, being the good little operative he wanted.
She spotted Hastings near the bar—older, leaner, but the smile was the same. Smug. Predatory. Hunting for the next fool to manipulate. He rubbed his ruby ring, checked his phone compulsively.Just like he used to.
Her skin crawled. Her stomach twisted. “He’s here.” She kept her back to the traitor. “Ten o’clock.”
Spence casually glanced toward the bar. His body stiffened. “Shit. He’s heading this way. We can’t let him see you.”
“I’ve got this?—”
