can afford to take a little break,” she said. “I was hoping we could take this baby down to the track.” She turned the full intensity of her jade eyes and rosy smile on him. “I could give you a few lessons.”
His eyebrows rose. “Well, as much as I’d love to take that offer,” he replied, “I had something else in mind,” he said. “Something a little more exciting.”
“Exciting is good.”
“You’re going to need a special outfit, though.”
She raised her eyebrows to meet his. “Is that so?”
* * * *
“Let me see,” Scott coaxed.
“I look ridiculous,” she said.
“You look in-freaking-credible.”
Lily was wearing a full wingsuit, which resembled a jumpsuit with webbing between the legs and arms so that, with limbs extended, she looked more than a little like a flying squirrel. A ram-air parachute container nestled at the back of the suit against her spine. They were on a rocky promontory overlooking a cliff miles outside the city, the sun low in the sky over the Pacific Ocean. A brisk wind was blowing from inland, and wisps of her crimson hair sticking out of her helmet beat against her face.
She inched toward the edge of the cliff and looked down. The sheer height made her stomach jump.
“Chicken?” Scott said, a teasing smile playing on his face.
Not about to let that stand, Lily pulled her goggles over her eyes and jumped off.
She fell through nothingness. She screamed in fear and glee as the wind rushed her face and through her hair, in the exhilaration of the free fall.
As instructed, she opened her arms, and the flaps caught the wind. And then she was flying.
They glided together, down, under the California sun.
* * * *
“I’ll admit you arrange the best dates.” She was speeding down the highway in the little Alfa Romeo, squinting against the sun setting over the ocean. “I’m wired,” she said. “That was such a rush.”
“I can think of a way to work off that energy.” He laid his hand on her thigh, pulling her dress just a few inches up with his fingers.
Lily unthinkingly stepped harder on the accelerator—her unconscious mind’s way, she supposed, of saying, oh, yes please.
She bit her lip and moderated the speed. She turned on the car stereo, and the Turtles’ “Happy Together” came on.
“Is this the radio?” Scott asked.
“No, that’s my phone hooked up to the sound system.”
“You’re kidding me?” He looked like he was holding back laughter.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“This is the sappiest, cheeriest song in the whole world. It’s, like, for the closing credits of cheesiest rom-coms.”
“Is there a problem with that?”
“It’s just that you’re this badass international spy. I figured you’d like music with a little more edge to it, that’s all.” He chuckled and sang along. “So happy togetherrrrr.”
“Shut up! Tosser.”
He ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it back, and stopped. “What’s that on your temple?”
Crap. She hadn’t concealed it with makeup as well as she had hoped. “Nothing.”
“Was it from the base jumping? Did you hit something when you landed?”
“You know I didn’t. I had it already. Minor work injury.” She turned her high beams on him. “I’m a badass international spy, remember?”
“That looks pretty nasty. What happened?”
“Scott, you know the deal. Don’t ask, don’t tell. That’s the only way this is going to work.”
“Well, I hate the deal. The deal sucks. I can’t believe I let you go off into danger on your own—”
“Let me? What, now you’re going to pull out the apron and housecoat?” she teased. “Is Scott Renard going to go toe to toe with a bunch of hardened mercenaries to protect his lady’s honor?”
“You could stand to say that in a slightly less emasculating way,” he mockingly pouted.
“If you weren’t being so ‘masculated,’ I wouldn’t have to emasculate you now, would I?”
The multimillionaire turned to look out of the windshield. Lily could see that behind the slick veneer and cocky self-assurance wealth and success brought was still an insecure nerd. It made her like him even more.
“Let’s not dabble in shop talk, all right?” she suggested with a grin. “I came here to see you to get away from all that.”
He chuckled with appreciation and relief. “Fine. Let’s get back to my place. We’ll see what we can turn up on your golden ticket.”
Chapter Seven
Morgan arrived at his house, a two-story ranch in the Boston suburb of Andover, Massachusetts.
Alex had her own apartment now that she was drawing a paycheck. It felt strange not having her around anymore, but it was also great that he and Jenny had the house to themselves. No matter how often his work took him away from home, he always craved being back in Jenny’s arms. With Alex off doing her thing, he wouldn’t have to wait.
Morgan opened the front door and walked right into the middle of a ladies’ book club. Eleven pairs of eyes turned to face him.
“Dan!” said Jenny, standing. “I didn’t know you were coming!” She hugged him tight. Her warmth was cruel, mocking his desire. He felt the urge to order everyone to leave.
“We were just discussing When the Horses Wild Ran. Keri was just about to talk about the symbolism in—”
“I’m going to go take a shower,” he interrupted. Then, with the best smile he could muster, he said, “Please make yourselves at home.”
He wasn’t lying—at least about half of it. He took a quick shower, pulled on a pair of jeans, buttoned up a shirt, and went back downstairs. The club, thankfully, was on a break. He wasn’t sure how much Horse symbolism he could take. Jenny was having an involved conversation with two other guests, one of whom he knew to be their next-door neighbor, Cynthia. So he went to the kitchen to raid the refrigerator instead.
He heard the clicking of heels, and a woman he didn’t know came in after him. Her skin was tanning-bed orange—looking like a warning poster for melanoma. Her lips were plumped with Botox, and he wondered whether she didn’t
