Page 18

Isabel

I take a steadying breath, glancing around the private section of Club Greed like I’m checking for exits—or maybe just a hint of sanity. The dim glow of pink-and-gold lighting bathes the couples dancing nearby, creating a sultry, dreamlike atmosphere. My pulse still thrums from sitting in Lincoln’s lap, the memory of his hand on my thigh sending a ripple of desire through me. But we haven’t found much about Morris Rolfe, and a sliver of frustration eats at me.

Get it together, Isabel , I scold myself silently, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. You can do this. You’ve come this far, pretending to be a woman who’s comfortable in a world of high-end secrets and steamy encounters. What’s a little more flirting? One step at a time.

Next to me, Lincoln’s phone vibrates. He pulls it out, glancing at the screen. “It’s Dean,” he murmurs, worry flickering in his dark eyes.

I stiffen at the mention of my brother. If he knew what we were doing, he’d blow a fuse. But Lincoln’s already stepping away toward a quieter corner, pressing the phone to his ear. He shoots me a quick, apologetic look that says he’ll be right back. I manage a tight nod, watching as he disappears into the shadowy alcove.

Great. Now I’m alone in the middle of a private swingers’ party. My heart starts pounding again, the beat matching the slow, sensual music echoing through the room. I force myself to relax my posture, adopt that poised confidence I’ve been practicing. After all, I’m supposed to be Mrs. Zane, a woman completely at ease in these surroundings.

Trey and Vera reappear from behind a group of dancers. They look every bit as polished and enticing as before—Trey in his crisp suit, Vera in her shimmery gold gown. Their eyes light up when they spot me, and they approach with easy smiles.

“Hey there,” Vera purrs, gliding closer. “Your husband get a phone call?”

I force a casual grin, ignoring the twist of anxiety in my stomach. “Yeah, just some work stuff. He won’t be long.”

Trey offers his hand, palm up. “In that case, let’s keep you entertained while he’s busy. Care to dance?”

I open my mouth to decline—I’d rather wait for Lincoln—but then I remember I’m supposed to fit in. A refusal might come off as shy or standoffish. So I nod, letting out a small laugh. “Sure, why not?”

Vera’s gaze sparkles with approval. She and Trey lead me onto the makeshift dance floor, which is more of a softly lit lounge space than a typical ballroom. A new track plays—low and rhythmic, the bass pulsing at a seductive tempo. Couples sway under the tinted lights, some pressed tight together in ways that make my cheeks warm. I swallow hard, reminding myself that I have to play the part of someone used to this kind of environment.

“Just follow our lead,” Vera says, placing a light hand on my shoulder.

Trey steps behind me, resting his hands gently at my waist. My nerves spike; I’ve never been sandwiched like this before, especially not with two near-strangers. But Vera’s smile is warm, and Trey’s hold remains polite, so I force my muscles to relax and let the music guide me.

We start swaying together, a slow, rocking motion that feels oddly intimate despite our formal clothes. Vera’s in front of me, her gold gown reflecting the lights as she moves her hips in time with the music. Trey’s solid presence at my back keeps me anchored, and I can feel the subtle press of his thighs as he matches my rhythm. It’s a careful dance, a little daring, and entirely out of my comfort zone.

But maybe that’s why I lean into it—why I let myself close my eyes for just a moment and pretend I belong here, in this hush of whispered desire. A hint of spice from Vera’s perfume mingles with Trey’s cologne, a heady mix that sets my heart fluttering. My pulse thrums in my ears, and for a split second, I forget about Morris Rolfe, about Dean’s call, about the entire mission. All I feel is the music, the soft slide of fabric, and the swirl of excitement that I’m doing something so completely new.

Vera steps closer, her lips curving in a sultry smile. “Not so bad, is it?” she murmurs over the pulsing beat.

I let out a shaky laugh. “No. Definitely… interesting.”

Behind me, Trey’s fingers shift slightly on my waist, spreading warmth through the thin material of my dress. He leans in, breath ghosting over my ear. “You’re a natural, and so fucking sexy.”

I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or just part of the play, but I try to accept it with grace. We sway a little more, the music taking on a deeper, bass-heavy undercurrent that seems to resonate in my chest. Vera’s gaze drops to my lips, and my stomach twists with a strange blend of nerves and thrill. I wonder if she’s going to kiss me—if that’s the next step in this seductive dance. Part of me is tempted to see how far I can go, to push my boundaries, but I also can’t shake the knowledge that Lincoln’s somewhere in the background, probably finishing up his call with Dean.

He’ll be looking for me, I realize.

The thought makes me open my eyes—and that’s when I spot Lincoln, leaning against a column at the edge of the dance floor. He’s off the phone, arms folded, and his gaze is locked on me like a laser. My heart kicks. Even from a distance, I can see the clench of his jaw, the set of his shoulders, the way his eyes darken as he watches me. It’s such a fierce look that a hot flush crawls up my neck.

Is he… jealous? Or maybe just worried?

Either way, I feel the weight of his stare thrumming through me, heightening my awareness of Trey’s hands on my waist and Vera’s body swaying so close to mine. A flicker of heat lights in my core, an electric surge that’s half performance, half genuine rush of adrenaline. Does he like watching me? Is he turned on seeing me like this?

I can’t deny that the thought excites me. There’s a part of me that wants to show him I can handle this world, that I can be just as daring as he’s asked me to be. So I let myself lean in a bit more. Vera slides a hand up my arm, and I feel Trey’s grip tighten slightly on my waist, pulling me back against his chest. My dress shifts, revealing a bit more thigh. The intimate press of two bodies sandwiches me in place, and my breath hitches.

Vera’s lips curve in approval, and she flicks her gaze over my shoulder to where Lincoln stands. “Your husband’s watching,” she murmurs, voice laced with amusement.

A tremor of excitement courses through me. “I know,” I whisper, resisting the urge to turn my head and look at him again. Instead, I focus on the sensation of the slow grind, the hush of silk and suit fabric, the pulse of the music that makes every movement feel almost hypnotic.

Trey’s voice is warm against my ear. “He doesn’t seem opposed.”

I laugh softly, though it comes out a bit breathless. “No, he’s not.”

The heat of their bodies is cataclysmic, the rhythmic press of hips and thighs a slow, sensual dance that has my heart thrashing in my chest. Part of me wants to break free and rush to Lincoln’s side—to bury my face in his shirt and pretend this never happened. But another part, the one that’s been exploring a daring new side of herself ever since we arrived here, finds the boldness of the moment exhilarating. I can practically taste Lincoln’s stare from across the room, and it’s like fuel to the fire licking at my edges.

Vera slips a hand down, brushing the fabric of my dress near my hip, almost like she’s testing how far she can go. My breath catches. The entire time, Trey’s body remains at my back, his hand steady on my waist, guiding the subtle shift of our movements.

I risk a glance at Lincoln. His arms remain folded, but he’s no longer leaning on the column; he’s standing straight, tension radiating from every line of his body. My gaze locks with his, and a jolt of pure electricity snaps between us. I see hunger in his eyes—raw and undisguised. And though guilt nudges at me for letting Trey and Vera get this close, a thrill I can’t deny flares in my belly. I like that Lincoln’s watching, that he’s seeing me test these waters. A question forms in my mind: Is he as turned on as I am?

Judging by the dark intensity in his stare, I’d say yes. The realization sends a shiver through me. The music slows even further, the beat throbbing like a pounding heartbeat through the speakers. Vera’s body shifts, and before I can process it, she loops her arm around my shoulders, pressing her cheek to mine in a friendly but charged gesture. It’s a move that’s both comforting and provocative, and it draws me deeper into the dance.

My entire body feels like it’s on fire. I can feel Trey’s chest rise and fall with his breathing, and Vera’s soft hair brushes my face. The lights overhead seem to swirl in my vision, or maybe that’s just the rush of blood in my head. Every muscle is taut with anticipation, half expecting one of them to take it a step further.

But I find myself leaning back slightly, letting Trey’s arm support me, all while my eyes remain locked on Lincoln. He hasn’t moved closer—hasn’t stepped in to interrupt—but I can tell he’s battling himself. His fists clench at his sides, his jaw is set, and he looks like he’s debating whether to yank me away or let this play out. The idea that he might intervene sends another spike of excitement through me. If he does, it would confirm just how possessive he can be when it comes to me.

Vera tilts her head, pressing her lips near my ear. “You okay?” she murmurs, her tone gentle despite the warmth of the moment.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly parched. “Yes,” I manage to say, my voice low. “Just… new to this.”

She gives a reassuring little smile. “You’re doing great.”

Trey’s chuckle rumbles against my back. “Definitely. Such a good girl.”

I catch my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to harness the swirl of emotions. The last thing I want is to lose my nerve in front of them—or in front of Lincoln. So I keep swaying, letting the music guide me, letting the sensation of multiple bodies press close. My heart is a drumbeat in my ears.

Finally, the song fades to a soft close, and the lull between tracks leaves my head spinning. Trey and Vera ease back a step. Vera’s grin is playful, eyes shining. “Well, that was fun,” she purrs. “We’ll have to see if your husband’s willing to share you a bit more next time.”

I bite down a shocked laugh, my cheeks ablaze. “We’ll see,” I say, trying to keep my tone flirty.

With that, they slip away, melting into the crowd in search of another couple, another dance, or maybe something more. I’m left standing there, heartbeat still pounding, sweat dewing at the nape of my neck. And then Lincoln’s there, crossing the floor in a handful of purposeful strides.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice tight with concern as he reaches me.

I nod, forcing an unsteady grin. “Yeah. Just… dancing. What did Dean say?”

His frown deepens a moment, but he takes a breath and drops his voice. “I convinced him we’re fine, that we’re just lying low. He doesn’t suspect a thing. How about you?” He glances around, spotting Trey and Vera chatting with another pair in the corner. “You looked pretty comfortable… or maybe uncomfortable?”

A wry smile tugs at my lips, my pulse still fluttering. “A little bit of both. I didn’t want to offend them, and I figured… you know, ‘play the part.’” I shrug, trying to downplay how rattled I feel. “Vera and Trey said they’re close to Morris, but I still don’t know how we’ll get more info if he’s not even here.”

Lincoln’s jaw clenches, but he slips an arm around my waist, pulling me close enough that my chest brushes his suit jacket. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, and his gaze roams over me, the dark intensity still there. “You’re shaking.”

I let out a shaky laugh, realizing he’s right—my knees feel a bit wobbly, either from the dance or from the way he’s looking at me now, with equal parts protectiveness and desire. “It was… different,” I say, swallowing hard. “Having you watch was…”

He leans in, brushing his lips near my ear in a move that mimics what Vera did. But the effect is entirely different. My body clenches, a wave of longing surging through me. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he admits, voice nearly a growl. “Didn’t know whether to break it up or let you… explore.”

I exhale, tension rippling through my core. “I liked that you saw me.”

His dark gaze collides with mine. “Oh, I saw you, all right,” he murmurs, the rawness in his tone sending a spark down my spine. There’s a beat of silence where everything else in the club seems to fade, leaving only the hammering of my heart and the memory of his earlier hunger.

Eventually, the music starts up again, a new, throbbing track. Lincoln shifts, breaking the spell. “Come on,” he says gently, taking my hand. “Let’s get a drink, maybe talk to some other people. We’ll gather whatever intel we can and see if Vera and Trey are willing to help us meet Morris.”

I nod, letting him guide me through the throng of dancers, my body still buzzing from the heated dance. I can feel the stares of other patrons—some intrigued, some envious—but I focus on Lincoln, on the steady grip of his hand, on the reassurance in his voice.

And as we head toward the bar, I can’t help replaying the scene in my mind: the swaying, the press of Trey’s chest at my back, Vera’s body in front of me, and Lincoln watching from across the room with that look that made my blood race. In the swirl of all these new experiences, one thing remains clear: I’ve never felt so alive, or so close to the edge, in my entire life.

I just hope it doesn’t all come crashing down before we get what we need. And before I figure out exactly what’s brewing between me and Lincoln beyond this dangerous game.