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T he Presidential Suite.

Henner issued a low whistle as they stepped inside the sprawling space. “Now this is what I’m talkin’ about—plush carpet, crystal chandeliers…” He broke off as he wandered up to the tall windows on the far wall and surveyed the stunning view of the DC skyline.

The dusky sky and fading sunlight enhanced the lights popping out all over the city. He’d stayed in a lot of places all around the world, but this one oozed polished wealth, power and exclusivity.

May, however, seemed unimpressed.

She let her bag slip to the floor and folded her arms over her chest. “One bed.”

He smirked. “Yeah, I noticed that too.”

“I’ll take the bed. You get the couch.” The look she gave him was surely meant to intimidate. She must be used to bossing people around.

“Fine.”

“Good.” He bent to untie his boots and then kicked them off.

The air seemed to crackle with unspoken tension. It wasn’t the first mission for either of them. Though it was the first he’d gotten that required him to share a room with a member of the opposite sex. It was quite possible that May hadn’t done that either.

He’d be lying to himself if he said that didn’t make him feel he was standing on uneven ground.

Or enemy territory.

She picked up her bag again and stalked to the bedroom. When she paused in the doorway, she swung around to face him.

“I’ll get ready out here,” he told her.

“Good.”

“Fine.”

He picked up the twitch of her lips, as if she enjoyed their small standoff.

He set his boots aside and grabbed his duffel. After setting it on the sofa—that doubled as his bed—he unzipped the bag. His tux was right on the top, ready for him to slip into.

Christ, he hated the restrictive attire almost as much as a military gala. He’d attended a few of these things. Each was as dull as the last, so all of them blurred together into one bad memory.

He threw a look at the closed bedroom door.

He’d never taken a date to one of these shindigs.

The mission was simple—or was it? Blending in with high-ranking military men with the goal of gathering intel wouldn’t be that easy when he could be recognized from his time before Blackout.

He shucked off his jeans and reached for the tux pants. He was counting on the unfamiliar formal wear to confuse anyone who might try to place him. If he wore Navy whites, the op would be all over because someone was sure to know him.

After casting off his shirt, he paused in only his pants, the fly undone, staring at the closed door. Not twenty feet away was a woman in a similar state of undress.

His cock stirred at the thought. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d taken anyone to bed, but it would not be May. The woman was so stiff, she would be like lying with a plank of wood.

His mind touched on her features, small and delicate. Her lips like a tiny rosebud, full and pouty.

She was also a pain in his ass.

“Cold and bitchy,” he muttered.

Quickly, he buttoned his white shirt, keeping the stiff collar up so he could add the bowtie.

A mirror just beside the entrance provided a place he could tie the damn thing. Real men didn’t wear clip-ons but now he wondered why the hell not. When he finished, it was lopsided, and he had to torture it into a new shape so it looked halfway decent.

As he shrugged the coat on, he issued a mental groan. His tailor claimed that the jacket fit him perfectly, but he always felt ready to bust out the seams the minute he shrugged his shoulders.

Across the modern space, the bedroom door opened and May stepped out.

Bright pink.

Henner blinked.

May’s gown was bright fucking pink.

It hugged her body, clinging to her small breasts and nipping in at the narrowest part of her waist before flaring across her narrow hips.

His gaze snagged on her smooth, bare shoulders and collarbones. Below that, her dress plunged, exposing the tops of her rounded breasts and a line of tantalizing cleavage.

His mouth dried out.

She looked gorgeous…but all he could think about was how they were going to stand out in a sea of navy and black.

“You do realize we’re undercover, right?”

“Your point?” She moved toward him, walking confidently in high heels. When she swept past him, he gaped at her back. The gown plummeted clear to her ass.

He marveled at the engineering of such a garment. How the hell was it even staying on her body?

“Undercover should mean understated.”

She fiddled with one earring dangling from her lobe. “Are you a fashion guru now?”

“No, but I know what blending in means, and that’s not it.” He jabbed a finger at her dress.

Her rosebud lips twisted. “I’m blending in by sticking out.”

“That’s not how this works.”

She shrugged one lovely shoulder and looked pleased with herself.

Henner slowly approached and circled behind her. The dress was held up by…nothing.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out the engineering of this dress.” He waved a hand at the bright pink satin. “How do you know this thing isn’t going to fall off and cause a… slip ?”

She rolled her eyes at his obvious lack of knowledge of women’s attire. “Double-sided tape.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Ugh.”

“Okay, I’ll give you this much. But let’s make a code word in case you start showing too much…” He waved his hands in front of his own chest.

May narrowed her eyes. “What do you suggest?”

“Titties.”

“Absolutely not!”

“C’mon. It gets straight to the point. And you’re a straight shooter.”

He was going to shoot something if he didn’t tear himself away from the sexy swells of her breasts.

“How about something more subtle?”

“What about…” he racked his brain for a code that would work for her. “Do you know where the ladies’ room is?”

“Fine.”

“Good. It’s still a shame. Titties would be way funnier.”

“No, Henner.” She looked him up and down as if noticing him for the first time.

He already knew he looked good, but the way her eyes froze on his chest for a long beat was all the compliment he needed.

He returned to his bag and fished around an inside pocket, coming out with a handful of IDs. May watched him sift through the collection. He finally selected one that would work for the night and tucked the rest back into the bag.

He slipped the ID into his jacket pocket and offered May his arm. He wasn’t happy with the color she was wearing, but it was too late now. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

They left the room and headed to the lobby. Outside, a sleek black car waited to drive them to the gala.

Henner held the door for her, and she slipped in. When he followed, he threw a glance at her chest, expecting the maneuver to expose her completely. But that double-sided tape seemed to be doing the trick.

As the driver pulled away, Henner angled another glance at May. Whatever happened after this, one thing was certain.

It was going to be one hell of a night.

* * * * *

Titties. Dammit, ever since Henner said that word, it was all May could think about. Each small move she made, she was aware of how one wrong gesture could make her stand out in the crowd in the worst possible way.

The dress made her feel strong and confident…but she was drawing a lot of attention. She straightened her spine.

The gala was a spectacle of wealth and power, the sort of thing that soured May’s stomach. And she should know—she’d grown up in this world.

Champagne flowed freely, and everywhere she looked, people clustered together, heads close as if they shared secrets. Which they probably did.

The grand chandelier shed golden light over the gala, highlighting the elegant attire. Most were dressed in military regalia, and Henner was right, damn him. The other women wore shades of blue and black.

As she and Henner wove through the crowd, a string quartet in the corner struck up a minuet. The low music seemed to hum at the same frequency of the tension vibrating through the whole party.

Gliding along at Henner’s side, she reached for his arm—

And felt the tape holding up her dress slip.

She tightened her grip on his arm, pulling him to a stop. He drew his eagle-sharp focus from the crowd he’d been scanning since the minute they walked through the door, and settled on her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Do you see the ladies’ room?”

His line of sight dipped to her chest and snapped back to her face. His pupils widened. “You’d never make it there. Get behind me.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her from sight so she could adjust.

Okay…that was cute…in a gentlemanly way.

With his solid body inches away, she grasped the top of her bodice and yanked it up a little, then pressed her fingertips into the fabric, hoping it would stick to the tape.

God, his back was gorgeous in that tux.

Feeling more secure, she stepped out from behind him. “Let’s get a drink.”

He darted a look at her chest and she saw his own inflate as if a groan was gathering in his lungs, but he didn’t let it out.

They continued to move through the crowd, mingling by way of smiles and nods. All eyes turned to her as she passed. When she got a flute of champagne in hand, she turned to Henner. “See? Blending in by standing out.”

“Right.” He didn’t take any champagne, though he could definitely use a drink to take the edge off. The man was on constant alert.

Suddenly, it hit her.

He was supposed to be dead.

Anyone in this crowd could recognize him.

That drew a target on his gorgeous, muscled back.

From the corner of her eye, she studied her partner. On the surface, Henner appeared to be calm, but a tendon in the crease of his angular jaw revealed a strain humming just beneath the surface.

The champagne flute in her hand posed as a prop more than a drink, and she used it to disguise how shaken she was too. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of what Henner’s commanding officer had ordered him to do.

Lifting the glass to her lips, she spoke to him. “If we keep moving, we’ll draw less attention.”

That tendon fluttered in response.

She set off through the chatty guests, navigating the ballroom with ease. Henner stuck close to her, his presence a calming anchor in this mission. They were in this together. When one lacked in skills, the other could fill in the gap.

Parties she could do. How many of these things had she attended in her life? Dozens. With her father, two uncles and an older brother working in the family business dealing with explosives, May had tagged along with them to everything from war zones to secret parties. Even if some people didn’t appreciate her family, the government did. They got all the contracts, went to all the clandestine places and were sworn to secrecy on everything they did.

And she learned everything she knew at the knee of the best in the business—her father.

They stopped between groups of people. She focused on their talk, but none of it seemed important to what she and Henner were here to accomplish.

Then his posture changed—an unmistakable stiffening of his solid spine.

“Goddammit, I’m gonna kill Con.”

Before she could ask the question poised on her lips, he vanished in the crowd.

Did he just ditch me?

With a gulp of panic, she brought the champagne to her lips to cover her discomposure. When she looked up and saw a man walking toward her, her stomach tightened.

He wasn’t looking at her, but where AJ had disappeared.

With a neutral—and even serene—expression, she casually turned, taking a sip of champagne as she did. AJ was nowhere to be seen, but she couldn’t just stand here.

Moving with purpose, she passed clusters of guests. Half a dozen men surrounded a general, all vying for his attention and pretending to hang on his every word. One man’s eyes traveled over her body.

She gave him a small nod of acknowledgement before moving on. “I’m going to kill Henner,” she murmured under her breath.

He had to bail on the situation, and that was understandable. But he could have at least taken her with him.

About ten minutes later, after combing the entire ballroom for him, she found him with his back to a wall in a corner away from the bar. His easy stance didn’t give away that he was upset in the least—or that he’d just left her to fend for herself.

He laid eyes on her. The grim clamp of his lips passed for a smile.

“Thanks for abandoning me,” she breezed out, stepping up beside him.

“I had no choice.” He gripped his drink and brought it to his lips.

She shifted to face him, forcing him to meet her head-on. “You knew that man?”

“Went to boot camp with him.” He sipped again.

“Should you be drinking on duty?”

Long ago, she’d finished her champagne and ditched the glass. So when he held out his glass to her, she took it.

“Taste it.”

She sniffed the contents before bringing it to her mouth. What appeared to be Crown and Coke was really just Coke.

“Did the guy from boot camp recognize you?”

“Maybe.” He turned his head to the right, staring out over the crowd. “I wasn’t about to find out. I told Con this could happen.”

“Did you call him?”

He grumbled something under his breath, but she didn’t get a chance to ask what he said because a presence entered their space.

A man.

And this time, it was May who knew him.

The champagne she’d drunk iced over in her stomach, but she slapped a smile on her face and turned to greet the newcomer.

“Major General.”

Henner stood close enough that his arm brushed against hers, and she felt how stiff it was. She was sure if she looked down, she’d see his fingers curled into a fist. She darted a look at his face, trying to gauge whether or not the general knew him .

She waved a hand toward the general. “Honey, this is Major General Simpson.”

The man gave AJ a nod. “Nice to meet you.”

She extended a hand, which the general took. “Shaw,” she called the general by his first name. “So good to see you.”

He squeezed her fingers and released her hand. She let herself drift an inch closer to Henner.

Simpson and Henner stared at each other for an uncomfortable beat.

If he knew Henner, their cover wasn’t just completely blown—Blackout’s was.

Simpson delivered a crisp nod to Henner. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Alfonso.”

It took a lot of self-control not to react to the name. She hadn’t even thought to look at the ID he selected from the stack he carried in his bag.

“Would you have been at Fort Knox, maybe three or four years ago?” Simpson asked him.

Henner gave her a private smile as if he read her thoughts. “Actually, yes. I’m surprised you’d remember me.”

May had to get them out of this. She glanced around. “Where is your lovely wife?”

Simpson toyed with the top button of his dress attire. “Uh…I’m divorced.”

She blinked. When she’d met Simpson and his wife, their relationship had seemed so solid. But one never could assume what rumbled under the surface of any marriage.

“I’m sorry.”

Henner raised his glass to his lips, and Simpson raised his like they were drinking buddies.

“Military life must be hard on a marriage. Then again, isn’t all life hard on a marriage?” Henner’s statement almost made her choke, and she didn’t even have a drink.

“He’s joking! We’re married.” Apparently, they’d skipped right over the girlfriend plan and went straight to the altar.

She leaned against his side and latched on to his arm. The muscle was solid steel under her touch.

He smelled good—no, great. The scent made it easy to get even closer, to pretend that this was real.

Simpson’s scrutiny moved over them both. “Well, congratulations to you both.”

She craned her neck as if seeking out someone in the crowd. “Oh! There’s Tom and Anna! We must go speak to them before we lose them in the crowd.”

Henner slipped his hand around her back and settled it on her spine. The brush of his fingertips over her bare flesh made it break out in goose bumps.

Oh god. Her nipples pebbled too. Why had she worn this dress? With her luck, her nipples would push outward so hard they’d dislodge the tape holding up the bodice.

“Excuse us.” Henner guided her forward, stretching his fingers lower on her spine, closer to her ass.

After only a few steps, they were engulfed by the crowd.

She twisted her head toward Henner. “I hope Simpson drank enough to forget that entire encounter.”

His blue eyes pierced into hers. “He wasn’t drinking.”