Page 20 of Only the Wicked (The Sinful State #1)

Wrapping up means telling Rhodes I have a job interview and I’ll see him the next time we’re in the same city. Easy to do, but the idea of that plan delivers a sinking sensation.

The sound of knocking, no pounding, on a door comes through the speaker.

“What do you want?” Quinn barks.

“What’s the ETA? Do we have time for another round of Call to Action or are we hopping soon?” I recognize the voice as the one who placed a bet, and from the clearness of the audio, I assume he entered Quinn’s room.

“Cleared for another round,” she says.

The door clicks again.

“Who is that?”

“Jake.”

“Are they seriously gaming right now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How many guys are on the team now?”

“For your backup? It’s just Jake and Noah. By the way, they swept Rhodes’ villa while you were hiking.”

“Did they find anything?”

“Nope. Not even a laptop, but they didn’t open the safe. Cleaning service came by and they had to jet.”

“Surveillance in place?”

“No. Interrupted by cleaning service. And a wedding party with an outdoor celebration took over the courtyard.”

The villas open into a courtyard but you’d think they could find a way inside.

“What do you think of them? Jake and Noah?”

“Impressive backgrounds. Hudson’s recruits.

Based on their records, they’re skills extend beyond a joystick.

But they are used to working on bigger teams.” She clears her throat.

“So, Rhodes’ phone—as expected, it’s secure.

I’m not getting anything. And to be honest, if I did, it’d be too easy.

There are way too many interested in ARGUS right now.

Our West Coast operative is having trouble on her end, too.

She hasn’t called it quits yet, but the network she’s on as a consultant isn’t connected to the mainframe. Servers aren’t in the building.”

“Where are they?”

“Multiple countries. I’m working on mapping their data flow patterns between server locations. If I can figure out which clients access which servers, that might tell us who they’re really working with. Plus, I’m prepping surveillance tech for your D.C. trip. What’s your next step?”

“Rhodes said he needs a little time to catch up on work and then I’m going over to his villa for the afternoon.”

“Nice.”

I glare at the phone. “Why do I feel like you loaded that word with judgement?”

“Maybe because you’re busy judging yourself?”

My mouth is open and the words “fuck off” are on my tongue.

“Check your messages.”

Unknown Number: #whoremembers

“What the hell—Quinn, are you calling me a whore?” I’m getting louder, but I don’t care . “Because if this is some kind of?—”

Laughter peels through the speaker.

“Oh, you think this is funny?”

I’d like to see her computer geek ass enter the field.

Although, truth be told, Quinn’s pretty fucking hot in a PhD candidate, grad student kind of way with her thick blonde curly hair pulled back and giant blue eyes.

She’d probably be better at this than me because she’s got trustworthy down and she’s brilliant.

“I had to see if we could be friends. If you’d read it as who remembers, I wouldn’t say anything.” A snort sounds through the phone. Did she just blow her nose?

I lean over the screen and reread her text. Ah, I see what she did.

“So now that we can be friends…I’m going to tell you a secret.”

“Okay.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this. But I need to tell someone, and also, you need to get the chip off your shoulder if we’re going to work through this together. Especially if I’m talking you through a trip to D.C.”

“There’s no chip.”

“Right.”

I open my mouth to argue.

“I slept with Hudson.”

Silence .

“Sydney? You there?”

“I’m sorry, what? You—with Hudson? Our Hudson? Boss Hudson?”

“Yeah, that Hudson.”

“Jesus, Quinn. When?”

“Before I knew who he was. I got into town a night earlier than everyone. So did Hudson.”

“And you stayed at the same hotel?” I ask, putting the pieces together.

“Met at the airport bar before our flight. I missed my connection?—”

“Wait, back up. You met Hudson at an airport bar?”

“Yeah and ended up getting booked on his flight when mine got delayed.”

“And so, like now, what… Are you two?”

“Absolutely not. When I discovered he’s my boss, we had all the appropriate conversations and agreed, you know, I mean, it was never supposed to be anything. It’s just?—”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “You didn’t think a guy headed to the Highlands might be on the same project you’re on? Given we hadn’t met any team members?”

“Hey, we both lied about why we were going there.”

“Of course you did.”

“So, now that you know my dirty little secret, you can stop thinking I’m judging you at every turn. If you fall for him?—”

“Whoa, hold up. I’m not falling for anyone. This is work, Quinn.”

“I didn’t say you were. I said if .”

I release a long, pointed sigh.

“You don’t need to feel guilty. If it was Jake or Noah, you think they’d be feeling guilty? It wouldn’t even be mentioned.”

“You’re right about that.” If there’s any field that’s filled with sexist BS, it’s intelligence work.

“Do you like him? I mean, you’re not repulsed by him, right?”

“I genuinely like him.” That’s what I told Caroline earlier and now here I am telling Quinn, a colleague I barely know.

“If you didn’t, he’d pick up on that and you wouldn’t have done more than dinner last night.

It’s spycraft basics. It’s the secret of every undercover agent.

The good news here is you won’t need to lead him away in handcuffs.

Even if we discover he’s breaking ten thousand laws, we aren’t the law.

We’ll hand evidence over and a different crew will take charge.

He’ll never suspect you played a role in his getting caught. ”

“I don’t think he’s breaking any laws.”

“Really?”

I narrow my eyes at the speaker, not that she can see me, but her response was way too high pitched.

“Just keep us in the loop,” she says. “We’re nearby if needed. Send me deets on D.C.”

“Quinn?”

“Yeah?”

“That thing with Hudson? Mum’s the word. And don’t worry about it. This little group of ours—KOAN—it’s not like we follow a corporate structure?—”

“I don’t date colleagues. Especially bosses.”

“Got it.”

“And Hudson doesn’t date people who work for him. He’s got that military background. And honestly, our personalities don’t mesh. He’s closed off. Arrogant.”

“Well, all I’m saying?—”

“Be careful out there. Touch base.”

“How are things with Hudson now? Is it weird?”

“Not at all.”

There’s a loud rap on my door.

“Hang on, someone’s?—”

The rap returns, more insistent.

“Syd? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but I gotta go. Talk later.”

“Wait—”

I hit the red button and end the call.

The weight of uncertainty hampers my movement. Three days ago, I was certain of my mission, my target, and my purpose. Now I’m questioning everything—except my attraction to a man who might be completely innocent and undeserving of an investigation.

With slow steps, I approach the door. I’m barefoot and indentations from the tight socks over damp skin post-skinny-dipping mar my calves. I’m still in my shorts and tee.

“Hello?” I say to the door.

“Syd?” Adrenaline-inducing endorphins whoosh through me, all from the deep voice resonating through the door.

“Couldn’t wait?” I ask, swinging the door open, somewhat incredulous he’s here.

He’s in a fresh T-shirt that clings to his biceps and shoulders. My gaze falls to the flip-flops on bright white feet and I can’t stop smiling because right now I’m getting a Rhodes that few see. He grins, and it’s boyish and endearing.

“I’ve got an addiction.” He leans against the doorframe and the way he’s smiling, his tease is obvious.

Me?

“Work,” he clarifies quickly, but his smile falters slightly. “And apparently, I’m worse at this vacation thing than I thought.”

I deflate slightly, but…

“Seriously. My partner bet me I couldn’t go a week without working.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking slightly sheepish. “Miles has been on my case for months about never taking time off. Says I’m going to burn out before I’m forty-five.”

“Didn’t you go back to your villa to check in?”

“Well, yeah. I had a call scheduled with my grandmother. She wanted to make sure I was still on vacation.” His boyish grin has me grinning.

“And I called my partner. But he’s a friend.

So, not just work.” He pauses, looking almost embarrassed.

“And he reminded me of our bet. Also mentioned that if I was really serious about this vacation thing, I’d stop making excuses and just.. .be present. With you.”

“And you don’t lose bets?”

His lips purse, and he shakes his head. “I don’t lose.

Period.” He shifts against the doorframe, his grin shifting into a devious smirk.

“Though Miles pointed out that coming here instead of working might actually be me losing the bet in a different way. Said I’m substituting one obsession for another.

” His eyes meet mine . “Not sure he’s wrong. ”

The arrogance playing across those refined lips should not turn me on, and yet…

“Kept thinking about what I could do to distract myself—answer emails, catch up on reading. But the thing is…” He steps closer, and I catch something almost uncertain in his expression.

“There’s only one thing I actually want to do.

And it has nothing to do with work or any of the shit that usually consumes my brain. ”

He steps into the room and kicks the door closed. His dark eyes shift from humor to downright predatory as his gaze rakes over me, but there’s something almost...surprised in his expression. Like he’s caught off guard by his own reaction.

For a moment, he just looks at me, and I see something flicker across his face—like he’s processing something unexpected. “You know what’s weird?”

“What?”

“I haven’t thought about work—really thought about it—since this morning. That hasn’t happened in…” He trails off, shaking his head . “Years. Maybe ever.”

He steps closer, and my breath quickens.

“You haven’t showered.”

“Nope.”

“What were you doing?”

“Called a friend.”

“Huh.” He scratches his jaw, but the smirk is softer now, almost self-deprecating. “Well, since I’m apparently terrible at both working and not working…” His voice drops lower . “Care for assistance in the shower? Might be the one thing I can actually focus on properly today.”