Page 9 of Stripe for the Picking (Paranormal Dating Agency #92)

SEVEN

WREN

A s the soft strains of music began floating through the grand ballroom, Wren watched couples drift toward the polished dance floor beneath the shifting holographic lights.

The romantic atmosphere should have captivated her attention completely, but instead, her gaze kept drifting to a man at the head table who'd been watching her and Rylan with unnerving intensity throughout the entire evening.

What's his deal?

The stranger's ice-blue eyes tracked every gesture between them, cataloging their interactions with the calculating precision of a predator studying prey. Something about his artificially perfect posture and the way his mouth curved in a smile that never quite reached his eyes made her skin crawl.

"Rylan," she murmured, leaning closer to breathe in his intoxicating scent of cedar and something distinctly masculine. "Who's that man at the head table? The one who's been staring at us all night like we're specimens under a microscope?"

Rylan's jaw tightened as he followed her gaze. "Prime Minister Arvox. He essentially runs Nexus—think mayor but with significantly more power and political influence."

As if sensing their scrutiny, Arvox's eyes locked with Wren's.

His smile widened, displaying perfect white teeth, but the calculated gleam in his gaze made her stomach churn.

Every instinct honed through years of dealing with corrupt tech executives and manipulative government officials during her college internships screamed danger.

Predator. Manipulator. Potential threat.

"Something about that man seems off," she said quietly, her fingers unconsciously moving closer to Rylan's on the white linen tablecloth. "His whole demeanor radiates manipulation."

Rylan's hand shifted to cover hers, the contact sending electricity shooting through her.

"Arvox presents himself as harmless to the Council and Nova Aurora's elite, but you're right to be suspicious.

Over the years, he's caused delays that always seem to trip up Defense Nexus operations.

I could never prove it was deliberate, but the timing was always too convenient. "

The protective edge in Rylan's voice made her heart race. There was something incredibly attractive about his controlled fury, and the way his muscles tensed beneath his perfectly tailored black suit as he discussed threats to his command.

"You think he wants you to fail?" she asked, studying the subtle interplay of power and tension radiating from Rylan's tall frame.

"Sometimes I wonder if he feels threatened by my position. He's definitely expressed concerns about my leadership capabilities to the Council." Rylan's blue eyes darkened with frustration. "I'm especially worried he might try something at the upcoming Protocol Trials so that I don't win again."

"The Protocol Trials?" Wren's pulse quickened with interest. "Gerri mentioned those—said I might be able to help you win this year. But I have no idea what they actually entail or why winning matters so much."

Rylan's expression grew intense, his alpha presence commanding her complete attention.

"They take place annually to determine the most effective leader in Nexus.

It's essentially our version of proving worthiness through combat and strategy.

I haven't won since I first became Commander ten years ago—always end up in second place, usually losing by one or two points on some technicality. "

Ten years of second place? That has to sting for someone as driven as Rylan.

"Tell me more," she urged, genuinely fascinated by the competitive fire blazing in his eyes.

"Picture the Hunger Games, but real-life interactive simulation," he said, his voice dropping to that authoritative rumble that made her toes curl in her black heels.

"The arena responds to commands, creating obstacles and challenges across three rounds on different days.

Participants earn points by saving virtual civilians and completing objectives.

Most years I competed alone, but when I did have partners controlling the arena.

.." His jaw clenched. "Either we didn't mesh strategically, or it felt like deliberate sabotage. "

Pure excitement bubbled through Wren's veins like champagne. "That sounds absolutely incredible! I've always loved that concept from the books—the strategy, the quick thinking, the high stakes."

"It requires split-second decision-making and perfect synchronization between the competitor in the arena and their partner controlling the simulation parameters," Rylan explained, his gaze growing heated as he studied her face.

"The partner acts as mission control, manipulating the environment and providing tactical support. "

Perfect. This is exactly the kind of high-level challenge I've been desperately craving.

"I want to be your partner this year," she declared, her voice brimming with confidence.

"I know I can help you demolish the competition.

Interactive games are my specialty—no one can match my quick thinking and adaptability.

Your strength and control combined with my strategic mind?

We'd be absolutely unstoppable." Her eyes locked with his. "So, when do they start?"

Rylan's eyes widened with surprise and something that looked suspiciously like desire. "Five days," he said, his voice thick with an emotion she couldn't quite identify. "Not much time to prepare while we're simultaneously dealing with these cyber attacks."

Wren laughed, the sound light and confident in the romantic atmosphere of the ballroom. "You clearly don't know me well yet, Commander. Handling multiple complex tasks simultaneously is pretty much my forte. I thrive under pressure."

A slow, devastating smile spread across Rylan's face—the first truly unguarded expression she'd seen from him all evening. The transformation was breathtaking, turning him from intimidating military commander into the most gorgeous man she'd ever laid eyes on.

God, when he smiles like that, I can barely remember my own name.

"If you think you're up for the challenge," he said, his voice dropping to an intimate rumble that made heat race through her bloodstream, "I would love to have you as my partner."

The promise in his tone suggested he meant far more than just the competition, and Wren felt her pulse spike with anticipation for what was to come.

Suddenly, feeling exhilarated by their shared excitement about the Protocol Trials and emboldened by the romantic atmosphere, Wren pushed back from the dinner table and stood gracefully.

The black cocktail dress hugged her curves perfectly as she moved, and her long dark hair cascaded over one shoulder as she reached for Rylan's arm.

"Come on, Commander," she said, tugging playfully at his sleeve. "Dance with me."

Rylan's blue eyes widened with surprise, and he shook his head firmly. "I'm not a good dancer, Wren."

"Neither am I," she laughed, her green eyes sparkling. "We can both make complete fools of ourselves together. You said you wanted me to make tonight fun and entertaining, so let's have some actual fun."

She watched as internal conflict played across his handsome features—duty warring with desire, control battling against the magnetic pull between them. Finally, something in her expression must have convinced him because he stood reluctantly, his tall frame unfolding with predatory grace.

Victory.

Wren led him toward the dance floor where other couples swayed beneath the shifting holographic lights, her heart hammering with anticipation.

When they reached the polished surface, Rylan hesitated for just a moment before stepping closer and taking her hand in his much larger one.

His other hand settled on her waist with careful precision, and she placed her free hand on his broad shoulder, feeling the solid muscle beneath the black fabric of his suit.

Sweet heaven, he's built like a warrior.

Being this close to him was absolutely intoxicating.

His commanding presence seemed to envelope her completely, making her knees weak and her breath catch in her throat.

She could smell his masculine scent—cedar and something distinctly him that made her want to bury her face against his neck and just breathe him in.

As they began moving to the soft music, she felt his muscles coiling with tension, his protective energy radiating through his careful movements.

"Loosen up," she murmured, looking up into his face. "Just enjoy the moment."

When their eyes locked, Wren literally forgot how to breathe. Those piercing blue eyes held such intensity, such barely controlled hunger, that her entire world narrowed to just this man and this moment.

What am I doing? I'm supposed to be here for a job, not getting lost in a pair of gorgeous eyes.

But she couldn't deny the way her entire body came alive in his presence, every nerve ending singing with awareness.

"I'm trying to have fun tonight," Rylan said softly. "I've really enjoyed your company so far. But I can feel everyone's eyes on us—especially the Council and Arvox."

Wren glanced around briefly, noting the subtle stares and whispered conversations happening at nearby tables. Prime Minister Arvox's ice-blue gaze was particularly intense now.

"Who cares?" she said boldly, focusing back on Rylan. "Let them watch and be jealous of two people who are actually having a good time instead of pretending for appearances."

That devastating smile spread across his face again. Her heart stuttered at the sight. He's absolutely perfect when he smiles like that.

"The Council expects me to be calm and disciplined," he said, though his grip on her waist tightened slightly.

"Well, you're not at work right now," Wren pointed out, moving fractionally closer. "They shouldn't expect you to act like this is some military operation. It's supposed to be enjoyable, and you're allowed to let your guard down occasionally."

As the music continued, she felt emboldened enough to slide both hands up to wrap around his neck, her fingers threading through the short hair at his nape.

Rylan's breath hitched audibly, and both his hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his powerful body.

This is dangerous territory, but I can't bring myself to care.

The sexual energy crackling between them was so intense she was surprised the air around them wasn't actually sparking. She could hear the whispered comments growing louder now, catching fragments of conversations that made her stomach clench with worry.

"—human presence is risky?—"

"—questionable judgment bringing her here?—"

"—distraction from his duties?—"

Guilt crashed through her enjoyment like a bucket of ice water. Her presence was becoming a liability to Rylan's leadership, creating political drama she'd never intended. She'd come here to help him protect Nova Aurora, not undermine his position with the Council.

Rylan must have sensed her sudden tension because he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Ignore the comments. Just focus on me."

Easier said than done when people are questioning your judgment because of me.

But she tried to push the worry aside, losing herself in the feel of his strong arms around her and the way he moved with surprising grace for someone who claimed to be a terrible dancer.

"You're my secret weapon, remember?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Your brilliant mind is my advantage, not a liability."

The music ended, but neither of them stepped apart immediately. They stood frozen in each other's arms, staring into each other's eyes while the romantic tension stretched taut between them.

"Let's leave this place," Rylan said suddenly, his voice commanding and decisive. "Go somewhere quieter and less stuffy."

Yes, please. Anywhere but here where every move we make is being analyzed and judged.