Page 14 of Lone Spy (Starstruck Thrillers #2)

Chapter Twelve

I'm alone in an elevator with Ash. We are in our customary position, him in front of me and slightly to the right. I can see the door, while he shields me from anything that might come through it.

My hair, still sticky from the product used in today's shoot, is stuffed under a Violet Glamour ball cap. I'm back in my jeans and white shirt. And I'm exhausted.

The day went by in a blur. And now we are returning to my suite so that I can get ready for my date. Pain throbs from my feet and brews behind my eyes. I just want to crawl under the covers and watch TV, convince Zade to join me.

Ash smells like himself, and it's overpowering the scent of my new fragrance, which seems impossible.

The way he promised to protect me…the memory of that tight space invades this one. The set of his jaw, the determination in his gaze. I almost believe him. My exhaustion makes me vulnerable to wanting to trust him.

The elevator slows at a lower floor. That's not supposed to happen. We are supposed to be going straight to mine—no stops. My body tenses for a fight.

"It's okay," Ash says as the golden doors part.

"What is this?"

"Temperance's replacement."

A woman stands on the other side. She's shorter than me with a helmet of blonde hair, wearing a red pantsuit with an American flag pin on her lapel. Subtle.

She steps in with us and smiles, reminding me of the snake I worked with today. There is something reptilian and creepy about her. I get the sense she wants to wrap around me and squeeze until all the breath leaves my body.

"Angela," she says. "I'm so happy we could meet." Her voice is high and scratchy, like she's been yelling at people and it's worn out her vocal cords.

The doors close and we begin to climb again.

"You have me at a disadvantage, I don't know who you are." My voice is even as if I meet new handlers daily.

"I'm Linda Whitmore, and I'll be your contact moving forward." It’s like she’s reading the news.

"Contact?" I ask, playing dumb.

Linda's eyes flick to Ash who hasn't moved. In the mirror I see his gaze drop to her, it's that cold one he uses so well. Linda’s lips slip into a smile that is first cousins with a sneer.

I don't think they like each other much.

Linda's focus returns to me and her mouth straightens. "Where is the package? Did you deliver it to the princess?"

Every instinct I have wants to lie to this woman. I also want to smack the back of Ash's head and ask him why in the actual fuck he didn't warn me this was going to happen.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

Linda’s upper lip twitches. She's not good at her job. The thought strikes fast and hard. This woman could get me killed with her ineptitude. Fuck.

"Give it to me." She takes a step forward as if to intimidate me. But I am too tired for this shit.

“I. Don’t. Know. You." I bite out each word, anger rising, taking away the pain in my feet and head, granting me new energy. This is such utter bullshit.

"Temperance is gone." Her smile turns smug.

I cross my arms and let out a half-amused, half-annoyed huff. “That doesn’t mean I know you.” I leave off the bitch . “I don’t even know what you're doing in this elevator with me. As far as I'm concerned, you’re an obsessed fan." I tilt my head and shrug. Who knows what ’ s true these days?

Anger sparks hot in her gaze, and she steps toward me again—this time Ash shifts, blocking her. My heart surges at the subtle movement, which speaks volumes. Maybe he is on my team.

"You will give me the compass," Linda announces.

"You're giving major first day vibes," I say. Linda’s nostrils flare and her cheekbones flush pink. "I'm not giving you jack shit. Now get the fuck off this elevator." I step around Ash to push the next floor button.

Linda pivots to follow my movements, brow drawn into a frown. Ash’s bulk between us is reassuring, but I think if we fought, I’d win. She's an amateur. How the hell did she get Temperance's job?

The doors open behind Linda. I hold the stop button.

She tries again. “You need to give me that package."

“Get off.” I jerk my chin at the empty hallway behind her.

"We're not done," Linda promises.

I raise my brows and look pointedly behind her. Step the fuck back .

Linda huffs a laugh. Another head shake like I'm the idiot on this elevator and then she flicks her gaze to Ash. "Get her under control." Condescension drips off each word.

Her eyes return to me, and Linda walks backward off the elevator wearing an arrogant smirk.

As the doors slide back into place she says, "I'm looking forward to hearing about your contact with the prince." Her smirk glides into a grin as the doors fit into place.

I take a deep breath: cedar, warmth, roses, and her. Linda’s putrid floral perfume. Sweetness gone rotten.

I raise a ferocious glare up to Ash.

His eyes wait for me. Deep sea under cloud-darkened sky. Something I can’t read written behind them. "I'm sorry.” His voice rumbles low and sincere. It makes me swallow. "We need to talk."

I choke on a laugh, surprised to find the edge of my rage dulled by his apology. “Captain Obvious.”

Ash’s eyes flash with amusement before his focus shifts to the opening doors. Chris waits for us on the other side.

They escort me to my suite where Chris stays outside and Ash follows me in, closing the door behind us.

A glance at my watch tells me I only have a little more than an hour to get ready for my date. Shit. Fuck.

"She's not experienced," Ash says as I cross to the couch, dropping my purse and kicking off my heels, anger and confusion and the pressure of time messing with me.

"I picked up on that." I turn to him, crossing my arms, sore toes cushioned by the thick carpet. Ash waits by the threshold. “Why didn't you give me more of a heads-up?"

"Habit."

"You're joking."

He's not.

The light in the room is low—just one lamp by the overstuffed chair between us. The drapes are all pulled, the shadows long and dark.

I pace toward a window.

"Don't open the curtains," Ash says, his tone flat.

I stop, turn back to him, all the electric energy buzzing inside of me freezing. “Why?"

“We're not on US soil, and you just told your handler to go fuck herself." A chill rolls over my skin. "It's illegal for the CIA to kill US citizens on US soil. The rules become murkier when abroad."

I take in a shallow breath. “You're saying they are going to try to kill me?" My voice sounds as suffocated as my body feels.

"I'm saying it's easier to kill someone outside of the United States." Ash's voice remains even. This is just a simple fact. I'm easier to murder in London than in L.A. No need to get dramatic.

"Jesus, Ash. What the fuck is going on? You need to tell me something." He's still standing close to the door; there are shadows at both our backs, the only lamp between us.

"You are aware of the personnel changes the Grand administration has made in the civil services?" Ash asks.

"I mean.” My mind races around trying to gather information. It’s hard to keep track of all that has happened. “I know that Grand fired tens of thousands of federal employees at the beginning of the administration.”

That was scary, my body remembers with a shiver, all the articles about the mass layoffs, the logic they used to defend it, acting as though it was all so reasonable.

“They replaced the employees with ideologues—people who had to pass a loyalty test,” I say.

Just common sense , they claimed. The President can ’ t work with people who aren’t loyal to him, no one would do that.

As if running a government is the same as running a middle school girl’s clique.

All hail the queen bee or sit alone at lunch.

"Yes,” Ash says. “This is the second wave. Temperance didn't pass the loyalty test."

"Jesus, Ash." My heart has climbed into my throat. "She's going to get me killed." He doesn't respond. Just stands there in the half darkness staring at me. "Did you pass the loyalty test?" it occurs to me to ask.

"I'm not an employee. I own my security company. They can't fire me."

“So why do you work with these people?”

As the silence stretches, time presses in on me. I can’t stand still.

Starting toward Ash, I stop next to the chair, under the ring of lamp light. My fingers find the arm, and I lean on it, suddenly needing the support. "You said you would keep me safe,” I say, my voice strange—sad. Sad that I need him to keep me safe. Sad that I can’t trust that he will. Just. Sad.

"I meant it.” Ash nods, his eyes fierce.

I chew on my bottom lip. His eyes drop to it. Then flick away. I nod. What choice do I have?

The words Linda spoke as the elevator doors closed flash into my mind. "What did she mean about my 'contact' with the prince?"

Ash’s jaw flexes. "Angela,” he pauses. “You must realize that building a relationship with such an important member of a foreign government is an excellent opportunity."

"He's not going to tell me state secrets on a date, Ash." My voice is incredulous even though I know that’s not what he means. If the last few years working with Temperance have taught me anything, it’s that secrets are never buried as deep as you think.

"No,” Ash confirms. “But he might come to trust you.” I don’t respond. Ash takes a breath. “He might leave you unattended in the same hotel room as papers that could be useful to us. You might overhear something. Angela.” He says my name like he knows I know this.

"Isn't Jordan an ally?" I keep arguing, trying to cover up how stupid I was for not noticing what a glaring shitstorm this was going to be.

“There is a long history of cooperation between Jordan and the United States,” Ash says in that super annoying way he has of saying obvious shit. “But even friends have secrets worth knowing.”

I sigh and rest my hip on the arm of the chair, my exhaustion from earlier returning with a vengeance. "I didn't even want to go,” I say. “Zade convinced me."

"Zade was only thinking in romantic terms."

"Do you think I should cancel?" I look up at him.

"I think it's too late for that."

"Ash, if you could try, for just a hot second, not to be such a cryptic fuckhead that would be awesome for me."

He frowns.

I'm guessing it's the first time anyone has called Ash a cryptic fuckhead to his face, but I guarantee I'm not the first person to think it.

"Angela," he clears his throat. "I understand this is difficult for you." I resist the urge to slap him. "The fact is that you are an important asset, and if you do not perform or become recalcitrant, you will be a liability." My chest goes tight again.

"Is that a threat?"

His brow furrows. “It's a fact." Simple math. Assets that don’t perform are purged from the portfolio.

"So I have to go on this date? And spy on him?"

“You don’t have to do anything,” Ash says, looking almost affronted.

“But you think I should. ” Why is he like this?

“Are you asking for advice?” Ash holds my gaze.

“Jesus, yes.” I throw up my hands. “What do you think I should do?”

"Tonight should just be for relationship building."

"My plan was to get laid again, and possibly have the kind of relationship with the prince where when we were in the same country we'd hook up." I laugh, surprised I just said that out loud.

Ash swallows. "That sounds advantageous to you both."

I laugh again and have an urge to mess up Ash's hair. To tug on his collar. Wrinkle his tie. Shake some of the propriety out of him. "What do you think is going to happen?" I ask.

He blinks a few times. "I believe he will agree?—"

I cut him off with a barked laugh. "Not with the prince. Jesus, Ash." I laugh again—sounding almost hysterical. Almost.

I shake my head, the humor quickly fleeing. This isn’t actually funny at all. "I'm not worried about what he will agree to. I mean, with this Linda woman. With this," I wave my hand around the suite. "This whole thing. What is going to happen?"

"Nothing good."

"You're so comforting."

"I assumed you didn't want me to lie."

"I don't." And that reminds me. "But I do want more of a heads-up when shit like that is going to happen."

"I apologize." His lips twitch and for a second I think he's going to smile.

"What?" I ask, my eyes riveting to his mouth.

"Nothing."

"No," I argue. "You almost smiled." His lips part. They're full and lush and surrounded by a dark shadow of stubble.

"You're mistaken," he says.

I shake my head. "No, I'm not. You almost smiled, and I want to know why."

Amusement dances behind his cold facade. I point at his face. "There again, you think something about this is funny." He presses his mouth into a frown but there is still a playful light in his eyes. "Ash! Tell me!"

He swallows, lips quirked. "I was just thinking about when you threatened to kill me." Ash clears his throat.

Heat explodes in my chest. "And that's funny to you?"

"Not funny but…"

Anger forces my feet to move, I get an arm’s length away from him. "But what?" I ask, my tone deadly.

"Charming."

I blink rapidly, trying to understand what he's saying. "You think it's charming I threatened to kill you?"

He takes in a breath, lets it out slowly. Seems to come to some kind of conclusion. "Yes."

"So you decided to keep things from me so I'd threaten you again so that what? You could be charmed by me?"

He does not like that assessment. "No."

"You think I'm charming when I'm so pissed off I've gone homicidal."

"Yes." His answer is quick and simple. His voice deep and true.

"That's fucked up, Ash. This is all fucked up."

"Life is fucked up, Angela. But I didn't keep Linda's arrival a secret to anger you, I did it out of habit. Out of protocol. I wasn't authorized to tell you."

That gives me pause. "But you will next time? Even if you're not authorized?"

He nods, something new coming into his gaze. Not amusement or anger. Something burning hot that isn't rage. "Yes."

"Why?" My voice is low, just above a whisper almost like I'm scared of the answer.

"Zade, Lloyd, and the hair stylist are here," he says, turning to the door as if he's going to answer it and not my question.

I take a few steps toward him, which causes him to turn back to me. I keep coming, grabbing his arm, staring up at him, making my eyes big and wide and desperate. "Why?"

He frowns down at me. "Because I don't want you to kill me."

"Is that, was that…a joke?"

He grins at me, and I almost fall over. I've barely seen the man smile, and now he's flashing me this.

Ash's eyes are bright with humor, he's got fucking dimples high up on his cheeks.

It feels like I've been in a dark room and just yanked open the drapes onto a dazzling day.

The grin is gone as quickly as it came and Ash is turning toward the door. I'm still gripping his forearm.

He looks down at where I'm holding him. His attention brings awareness back into my body and I let go quickly, as if the touch was burning me. He winks. He fucking winks.