Page 87 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Isaac is a very guarded man, so I wanted to give him time to process my confession in privacy. It isn’t every day the woman you’re sleeping with acknowledges being the daughter of a well-known mob boss. That type of revelation would rattle even the strongest man.
I’ll be frank, Isaac’s apprehension of my confession last night did make me wary of advising him that I’m an FBI field agent. Although legally I cannot disclose I am a field agent to anyone, morally, it’s the right thing to do. My heart wants to be truthful and tell Isaac everything, but my head is telling my heart it’s not the rational thing to do.
My heart-and-head fight continued well into the early hours of this morning. After many hours of silent debating, my head eventually overruled my heart. The reason my head won isn’t what you might think. It’s because I truly don’t believe Isaac is the man his FBI file portrays him to be. So, I’ve made it my mission to ensure Isaac’s investigation is handled fairly. Once Isaac’s investigation is closed, and he’s acquitted, I’ll make sure his file reflects the true Isaac Holt. I’m confident once he realizes I defended his integrity, he will forgive me for deceiving him.
At times, government departments can be unjust. My own childhood story reflects that. My Uncle Tobias was undercover in the Popov family for nearly five years before I was put up for auction. Once I was old enough to understand, Tobias explained that he initially tried to have the sale canceled legally, but since the FBI didn’t believe I was a valuable enough asset for him to break years of cover for, the auction went ahead as originally planned.
My memories of Tobias at the time are vague as I was so young, but the image of his huge smile and roguish face when he’d bring me and my brother groceries will always have a special place in my heart.
My mom was unfortunately addicted to meth. The urge for her next fix was greater than her desire to feed and look after her children. Since my mother graced my father with a son a year after I was born, he arranged for a family member to assist her in raising his children.
Although my Uncle Tobias isn’t related by blood, he was still addressed with the title of uncle. Any male with a close connection to thefamilywas classed as uncle, even if he weren’t blood-related. Uncle Tobias was the man my dad tasked with looking after me and my little brother, Enrique. Tobias said I was just shy of my first birthday when he came into my life. He gave me the nickname ‘Rabbit’ because I was nothing but skin and bones. That nickname stuck until the day he passed away.
Since the FBI refused to help, my Uncle Tobias went against their strict protocols. He mortgaged his family home in Tiburon and overdrew every credit card he owned to ensure he had enough cash on hand to buy me. When his bid was successful, Tobias and I left Las Vegas that very same day. Once news of Tobias’s abandonment surfaced through the FBI, he created the ruse that he was in a relationship with my mother the whole time he was undercover and that Vladimir had found out about his indiscretion, meaning he was shunned by the family. The FBI believed his story, and he was soon recruited to a new task force.
With the help of Regina, I was issued a birth certificate stating I was the daughter of Tobias’s deceased brother, Abraham, who had died three years earlier. For the past nineteen years, I was raised by Tobias and hisDedushka—grandpa in Russian—in the house Tobias mortgaged to bid for me. To this day, the FBI is none the wiser of my connection to the Popov family.
My gloomy thoughts are interrupted when a heated gaze ignites every nerve in my body. Lifting my eyes, I discover Isaac leaning in the doorjamb of the ensuite bathroom, watching me inquisitively. His enthralling eyes are raking my body.
Happily, my eyes absorb the satisfying visual of Isaac in an impeccably tailored dark blue three-piece suit. His primal gaze has my pulse quickening when he returns his eyes to my face.
I shake my head. “No, Isaac.”
Our rigorous physical activities this morning have already stretched my time thin. I’ll be late to work if I don’t leave this house within the next thirty minutes.
Isaac chuckles while strolling into the bathroom. Rolling my eyes, I turn back to face the mirror to continue my fruitless attempt to hide the dark circles plaguing my eyes with the compact foundation I carry in my clutch purse. It appears to be a shade too light since my skin is blessed with the hue of ecstasy, but it’s the only makeup I have available, so it will have to do.
My heart flips when Isaac leans over to place a quick peck on my freshly shampooed hair before snagging his toothbrush from the ceramic holder on the countertop.
Every hair on my body bristles to attention because of his close proximity. His erect cock scorches my curvy backside when he leans over my shoulder to dampen his toothbrush under the running tap, and a tiny shudder flows through me. Even being sexually sated numerous times the past forty-eight hours, I can’t stop my body from reacting to Isaac. The more I have him, the more I want him.
Swallowing hard, I stash my compact back into my purse and grab the spare toothbrush from its holder. Isaac remains quiet, but my awareness of his closeness is paramount. I don’t need to look at him to know he’s watching me. The heat of his eyes is an obvious sign.
Intimacy fires in the air as we brush our teeth side by side. Although there’s a double sink, Isaac spits his toothpaste into the one in front of me. Every brush of his body against my arm heightens my senses, and every time my body responds to his touch, his smirk enlarges.
I nearly choke on the mouthwash I’m gargling when he tugs open the knot on the towel curled around my body two seconds later. After drawing in a sharp breath, his eyes assess my body. From the bulge his dark blue trousers are straining to contain, I’d say he appreciates the visual of me standing before him naked.
I spit my mouthwash into the sink before turning around. “You have twenty minutes,” I warn him with my brow cocked in the air.
His lips crimp into a mouth-watering smile that makes my body quiver and my heart beat in my throat.
Returning his smile, I throw myself into his arms and seal my mouth over his minty lips.
Over thirty minutes late, I scamper into the office as fast as my quivering legs will take me. I should have known a man with impressive stamina like Isaac wouldn’t have known the definition of a quickie. Even with Hugo driving like a maniac and taking every shortcut he could find, there was no way I could gain back the hour I lost in the bathroom earlier.
My nervous eyes shoot to Alex’s office as I scramble toward my desk. I sigh in relief when I spot Alex sitting on his desk with his gaze planted out the window. Plopping into my chair, I fire up my computer before throwing my purse into the top drawer of my desk.
A girlie squeal erupts from my lips when I raise my gaze. Brandon has sneakily moved to my desk, undetected.
“Holy crap, you scared me.” I clutch my breathless chest.
He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows. “Sorry, Izzy. I just thought these might stop you from getting another one of Alex’s famously long tirades for being late this morning.” He gestures his head to the eight cups of steaming hot coffee he’s holding.
My eyes bulge. “Oh my God, Brandon. I love you. I love you. I love you.” Leaping out of my chair, I plant a huge, sloppy kiss on his cheek.
His face turns the brightest shade of red. “That’s okay, Izzy. I’d do anything for you.”
Just as he hands me the two crates of coffee, Alex pivots around. Our eyes lock and hold for several terrifying seconds. Seconds feel like hours anytime Alex’s stern blue eyes reprimand me. His gaze is so troubling, a sweat mustache forms on my top lip. My breathing returns when Alex’s eyes snap down to the coffees in my hand, and his lips curve into a smile.
