I Spy a Dark Obsession

his former partners, Augustine Kosta and Ralph Meyer. While the pair had been arrested and a few of the accounts seized, thankfully not all of the money had been traced.

Tio was unperturbed, as usual. “What now?”

He thought for a few moments, reaching for calm, and then slowly straightened. “Continue to have our other contact monitor Chevalier’s movements and wait for an opportunity. Then he’s to strike immediately, make it look like something it isn’t.”

“Like a bashing?”

“Exactly. But tell them to leave a special calling card, one Ross won’t fail to identify as my work. Understand?”

“Yeah.” Tio grinned.

“And, Tio? I want Chevalier dead,” he said coldly. “If it isn’t done, I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands. And that will get very messy for everyone.”

Even Tio would’ve paled, had he been capable. Robert never dirtied his own hands if he could help it.

To chip away at Michael’s soul until he begged Robert to end him? He’d make an exception.

“Bastian, wait!”

Bastian stopped and turned at the sound of a familiar, welcome voice and smiled at Katrina, who jogged to catch up with him. “Hey, Red. What can I do for you?” He had a few thoughts on the matter of what to do for her, none of which were appropriate for a boss to entertain about his beautiful employee.

Catching up, she gave him the Death Glare. “A couple of things. First, don’t call me Red. The last guy who did that had to get his nose reset.”

He wasn’t fooled — the touch of humor in her voice betrayed that she wasn’t really angry, and he couldn’t imagine her striking anyone. But he played along. “Ouch. Wouldn’t want to ruin my pretty profile. What’s the second thing?”

She grinned, and it transformed her face into a vision that awakened his cock. “Have lunch with me?”

A little burst of happiness lit his previously crappy day, and he warned himself not to get too excited. She was probably already headed in his direction and asked him as an afterthought. “What a coincidence. I was on my way to the cafeteria.”

“I know. I stopped by your office to ask if you wanted to grab a bite, and your secretary said you’d just left. I’m glad I caught you.”

“Me, too.” So she had sought him out. Okay, so his entire week was suddenly looking up, and not a moment too soon. “Anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about? Or is the invite purely social?”

“Mostly social, though I did want to tell you that the new shipment of microchips came in to replace the faulty ones in the cameras.”

“That’s good.”

She nodded, then cut him an assessing look. “I also wanted to see how you’re doing. You don’t seem nearly as stiff as you did four days ago.”

“Worried about me?” The idea warmed him all over.

“Of course. If anything happens to you, who’ll buy me cheap, fatty lunches at the compound’s roach buffet?”

He laughed. “There’s an image I needed before I bite into my burger.”

“Assuming it is, in fact, all beef. How do you really know?”

“Gross. I think I’ll get a salad. Nobody can fake lettuce.”

“True.” They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments. “How are you doing?” she asked, more serious now.

“I’m good. The soreness is almost gone, and I’m ready for our night out whenever it works for everyone else.” Truth was, he couldn’t wait. Michael had been right to badger him into putting it off, though.

“Tomorrow night?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll check with Michael.”

“Great! I’ll get with Emma, but I’m almost positive it’ll be fine as long as Blaze isn’t working.”

Bastian thought for a second. “I don’t believe he’s scheduled for an assignment.” And if he was, Bastian would pull him. Selfish but true. He wanted, needed, to get out with his friends for a while, and forget all his worries and disappointments.

Forget that he and Michael were on Dietz’s hit list — and on the lists of about a dozen more criminals besides. Cheerful thought.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

Shaking off the dismal mood threatening to encroach on his break with Katrina, he ushered her into the lunch line. “Somewhere a lot more fun than this building,” he said wryly, covering his lapse. “I can’t remember the last time I went for drinks and dancing with friends.”

“No wonder, considering how you’ve been taking care of Michael for weeks while he was on the mend, on top of running this place.” She selected a large salad and a drink from the offerings and set it on her tray.

Following suit, he gave her a sharp look. “I hadn’t realized that was common knowledge among the agents and other staff. About my playing nurse to Michael, I mean.”

Turning her head, she raised a brow. “Really? Even though you employ a few hundred spies who are trained to find out stuff they shouldn’t know and are the best at what they do?”

He sighed. “Well, hell.” No telling what else was general knowledge when it came to his feelings for his best friend.

They reached the cashier. He paid for both lunches in spite of her protest, then followed her into the dining area. Of their own accord, his eyes dipped to the sight of her shapely ass gently swinging, hugged by a pair of crisp, tan dress pants as she walked in front of him. God, what a view. And he was too damned starved for hot, willing flesh to drive himself—

Abruptly, she stopped and turned. “It’s too loud and crowded in here. Want to go somewhere else?”

He barely kept from running over her. “Let’s eat in my office,” he said hoarsely. Then cleared his throat. And let’s ditch the food.

“Okay.”

During the brief walk, he wondered whether he was so pent up, sexually frustrated, and starved for attention that any beautiful body would do to help him unwind. The sad answer to that was probably yes, but… Katrina was more than a pretty face.

She was intelligent, possessed a sharp wit, and was poised and confident. For the past few weeks he’d noticed she had a way of looking at him, as though she’d like to learn his every secret, that made his balls tighten and his breathing hitch. And he realized he wanted to answer all the questions in those sultry eyes, and do some learning of his own.

This was not a woman to be fucked and forgotten. And why did the idea of any man treating her like an object make him want to punch someone?

Striding past his curious secretary, he led her into his office and closed the door behind them. The large conference table was clear, so he headed for the nearest spot at the end, set down his tray, and took a seat. Katrina settled beside him, at the head of the table, making it easy for them to talk. Cozy.

“Your office is bigger than Michael’s,” she observed, sticking her straw in a plastic glass of lemonade. “How’d you get so lucky?”

“When Michael gave me the promotion, we ordered the conference table for closed-door meetings, but he didn’t want the table in his office. He doesn’t like having meetings there.”

“And you get to be the one to put up with the foot traffic in and out.” Her lips turned up. “Smart of him.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I don’t really mind, because the meetings are usually scheduled in advance, unless a crisis arises.”

“Well, that gives you about ten whole minutes of peace per day,” she teased.

“Maybe fifteen. Remind me why I wanted this job?”

“Because it makes you the boss of me? And you’ve got a great view? ”

Taking a bite of his salad, he pretended to consider. “Both very good reasons. Too bad I don’t get hazard pay