Page 88 of Danger Close

Her eyes flashed with anger and, if I wasn’t mistaken, hurt.

“I need a change of scenery,” was all she said when she closed herself off. “And I don’t do this for the money, Guerro.”

Then she threw her head back and laughed. It was a wretched, joyless sound.

“Considering your reaction,” she chuckled, her brow lifted. “Maybe I should change my opening position. I think I could fleece your wallet, based on the fucking look on your eyes. Lay out your cards, Guerro.”

The Agent she was talking to pursed his lips, took two steps away like Homer backing into the hedge, his eyebrows halfway up his hairline, then stepped away from our conversation.

“Cut the shit, and tell me what you know.”

“That’syouropening position?” she tsked, shaking her head. “You’d think you’d be a better negotiator.”

“Give me information that helps me find this fucker, and kill him.”

Plausible deniability and all that noise…

“You’ll have your job offer within 72 hours of his disposal.”

“How do I know you won’t keep him alive?” She lifted a single brow, though the expression never reached her willow-leaf eyes.

“I’m not a fairy, or a lawyer, Norkus. I won’t get lost in the semantics of our deal.”

“Humor me.”

“Fine!” God damn spooks. “When he’s no longer a threat to my wife, then I’ll get your job offer–”

“Too vague. Try again.”

I have never wanted to strangle the life out of someone more than this, right now.

“Once the man threatening my wife is in my custody–”

“This man you call Ray.” Her white teeth pressed on her bottom lip as she bit down on it. A sensual gesture that irked me.

If someone was watching us, they’d think that she was putting the moves on me, and I wasn’t punching her in the throat.

“I’m going to need you to specifically state his name. What if the bag boy at the market threatens your wife tomorrow? Does that restart the clock on those seventy-two hours.”

Homicide. I was going to commit cold-blooded homicide.

“Once I have my wife’s abuser in my custody and control, you will get a Paradigm job offer in 72 hours!”

“A job… as afieldagent.”

“After you complete our training program, yes.”

“You’ll try to wash me out in training?” There went that brow again. Her left eyebrow arched like she was issuingmea challenge. “Good luck.”

“Then I don’t see a problem with that part of the stipulation.” She’s nuts if she thinks I’d just let her onto the field without beating all the bad CIA-habits out of her.

“Fine,” she smirked, as if shelikeda challenge.

I fucking hated her. It wasn’t her looks, or the rumors, or the way drama seemed to follow her like a foul stench. There wassomethingabout her I hated that was soul-deep.

“I give you all the actionable intelligence you need on her boogeyman. When he’s dead, or in your positive control, I get an offer to be a field agent.” She struck out her slender hand, a large red ruby glinting on her ring finger, and I stared at it like it was radioactive.

She arched her brow, not at all annoyed that I was reluctant to makeanycontact with her.