Page 17 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold (The Blonde Identity #2)
Alex
“Baby, come look at this one.” Alex beckoned to King from across the jewelry store. “What do you think?”
She pointed through the glass to an emerald that was deep green and perfectly clear and the color of the little rings that
circled the blue of King’s eyes. Alex hated it instantly. She also wanted it desperately.
“Not big enough.” It was the size of a postage stamp and easily worth six figures, but Michael Kingsley III managed to look
at it like it was a pebble in his shoe.
“But, sir...” the clerk started.
“Have you seen her?” King pointed at Alex. He let his hand linger on her back, then dip to the curve of her butt and tug her
closer. He was still staring when he said, “Something bigger.”
“This is our largest stone on the floor at the moment, senor.”
“So it’s not the largest stone you have in the store?” King challenged, and the man blanched. He was young, and his suit was
cheap and he had the nervous eyes of a dog that’s been kicked—hard and often.
“Well, we do have one larger stone in our office safe, but I’m afraid...”
“We’ll take it,” King said.
“But you have not seen—”
“Then show it to us.” King sounded impatient—maybe it was the role. Or maybe it was just him.
“It is not insured for the floor, senor. If you can come back in a few days...”
“Oh no!” Alex put a little extra whine in her voice. “We’re leaving tomorrow. Can’t we go to the office and look at it there?”
The door to the back opened and an older man emerged. Dark suit. Dark eyes. Slicked-back hair and perfect posture. Lozano.
The salesman bristled just enough to show exactly who had been doing the kicking as Lozano headed their way.
“I’m afraid it’s now or never, my man,” King said. “Take us to the office if you have to, but if you can’t find a stone worthy
of us, we’ll have to look elsewhere.” When King looked at Alex that time, there was something like hunger in his eyes. “My
wife does not wear baubles.”
Maybe it was sound of hearing his inventory labeled as baubles—or maybe it was good old-fashioned greed—but Miguel Lozano
stopped halfway to the door and asked, “Is there a problem?”
Sometimes covers were shelters, and sometimes covers were keys. Used properly, they could get you in anywhere (even the most
exclusive jewelry store in South America). They could unlock anything (even that store’s state-of-the-art safe). But, most
of all, covers were reality—at least for a little while—so Alex couldn’t help but feel grateful that King’s cover was “American
Asshole” and they didn’t have to work too hard to make it stick.
“I told my wife she could pick out a present, but none of these are worthy of her.”
“I’ve been a very good girl,” Alex said, and King coughed but Lozano was looking at her, almost leering.
“Is that so?” The man’s gaze traveled the length of Alex’s body and she leaned a little closer to King.
She didn’t need Merritt’s dossier to know this man liked his women like he liked his cars—fast and sleek and meant for far
younger men with better reflexes. Alex could tell from the way he watched her. King was unnecessary then. Just a prop—a crutch.
She wasn’t afraid of Lozano, but she was glad not to be alone in his presence. Because her cover wouldn’t want that.
Her cover wanted Michael Kingsley.
So Alex let herself gaze up at him. His hand was warm through the thin fabric of her dress. It felt good against the chill of the air conditioner. She rested her hand on the linen of his shirt. Toyed with the buttons.
“What kind of stone would the lady prefer?” Lozano asked, but Alex didn’t face him. There was a loose thread on King’s shirt
and it was, suddenly, the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Tell him.” King’s voice was raw and low and so close, she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“Oh. Well, I want a big stone on a long chain. But not too long. Just long enough to dangle...” She blushed and looked
away, too embarrassed to say it.
“Tell him.” King wasn’t coughing anymore. His eyes were dark and his lips were parted and it was like this whole moment was
a punishment—or a dare. She’d made her bed, his look said. He was going to make her lie in it.
“Here.” Alex brought her fingertip to the neckline of her sundress and brushed against her cleavage. She watched King’s gaze
go dark.
“Here?” King’s finger dipped in beside hers, rubbed against her soft skin, and so help her, it was all she could do not to
whimper. The air was getting sucked out of the room, and for a moment, their eyes locked. Alex felt herself sway. She was
actually grateful for the way his arm wrapped around her, anchoring her and keeping her close.
“Like I said...” King never took his eye off Alex and his finger stayed tucked inside her neckline, but it was the look
that had them entangled. “We’re going to need that bigger stone.” One more brush of his finger. Deeper. Slower. “She’s been
a very good girl.”
Alex was going to kill him for that. Later. But right then his gaze was like a tether and she couldn’t bring herself to break
it.
Because of the cover. And the mission. And the lie that even Alex was tempted to believe.
“I see.” Lozano spoke to his employee in rapid Spanish, something about a call from a customer and a timeline being moved
up. Lozano needed to lock up the store because whoever was coming was in a hurry and they didn’t like company.
She could see on King’s face that he’d heard it too. That he knew what it meant. And a silent conversation took place between the two of them.
Our buyer is on the way, isn’t he?
Yes.
We’re not going to have the option of breaking in tonight, are we?
No.
We have to do something now, don’t we?
You are going to do nothing. I will do something.
I could do something.
Do not—
“Tell me what you’re interested in, senor.” Lozano was talking to King because King was The Man, and The Man had the money
and the power. And, besides, King’s finger was still tucked into the front of Alex’s dress, which meant no one was paying
attention to Alex’s eyes—which was exactly how Alex liked it.
King was talking about carats and cut and clarity, but Alex was aware of the puppy clerk going to flip the sign to closed . She could see the sky getting dark outside, but, mostly, she was aware of the way Lozano kept glancing at the door, nervous
and distracted, even if he didn’t want to show it. He was subtly shifting side to side, and his left hand kept brushing over
his jacket pocket, as if to make sure something was still in there.
Something the size of a small pouch.
Something heavy.
Something he might have already taken out of the safe.
When Alex pushed away from King, he flinched, like he hadn’t realized he was still holding her. Like he’d forgotten she was
there. But she was. She was there and she was just as good as King. Just as covert and twice as sneaky, and in the next moment
Alex was teetering, swaying...
“I don’t feel so...” She slumped in Lozano’s direction. Instantly, the man’s arms went around her, and Alex didn’t even
try to move away. “I’m so sorry. The room’s spinning...”
“What’s wrong?” There was fire in King’s eyes.
“I need...” She was practically clinging to Lozano. “I don’t know. The room just sort of...” She swayed again for good measure, but King was already pulling her away from Lozano and sweeping her up into his arms.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes were soft, but his voice was hard.
“It’s nothing.” She cupped his face. “I just got a little lightheaded.” She glanced at Lozano. “It happens sometimes now.
Because of the baby.”