“Alor, it’s at seven.On Saturday.Apartment thirty-five.” He waited, but although she remained behind the door, she didn’t respond. “Nice meeting you. Perhaps when you come by on Saturday, you can tell me your name.”
Louis sauntered away. As much as one could saunter with the stranglehold his jeans had on his impossibly hard cock. He didn’t once glance at the security cameras, but she had to be watching. He smiled. Wary, but interested. Perhaps despite herself, but her scent didn’t lie.
Pierre was waiting for him when he entered their apartment, the security feed open on his laptop. “Alor? Will she come?”
Louis flopped onto the sofa beside his brother. “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so. I… Pierre, what’s happening here?”
Pierre set aside his laptop. “Did you feel it, too?”
“If by feel it you mean the overpowering urge to make her mine…thenoui, I felt it.” He met his brother’s gaze, and a certainty settled in his bones. “She’s ours.”
Pierre growled. “Ours.”
“It could be awkward, her working with the enemy.”
Pierre sucked in a breath. “Oui.”
“We charm her while we deceive her.”
Pierre grimaced. “Not the best way to start, but it could be worse.”
Oui.Maxime was proof of that. Poorconnard. Though, given this situation, Maxime might not be drinking away his sorrows alone for long. “Sheisour mate. That has to count for something.”
Pierre cocked an eyebrow. “Tell that to Maxime.”
“There’s two of us.”
“Oui.”
It had always been their advantage—working together. Hell, they did everything together—worked, lived, fucked women. This was a dance they knew all too well. But this time, the stakes were higher. Melinda Cheng was no random hookup in a nightclub. A one and done, killing time while they waited for their mate. Shewastheir mate.
Louis held out his fist, bumping knuckles with his twin. “She doesn’t stand a chance.”
Melinda Cheng was theirs, and nothing, no security system, not their mission, or Cordelia King, was going to keep her out of their arms.
Chapter Four
Melinda scanned the street one more time. Nothing. Not a single sighting of Mr. Excalibur or Louis all day. Two days ago, Louis had stood at her door inviting her to their apartment for drinks on Saturday. Tonight. She’d checked the security feed. He hadn’t lied when he’d said he’d invited all the neighbors. More than the ones on this floor. Mr. Excalibur had popped up on the security feed, knocking on doors on the floor above and the one below. Maybe they were nothing more than new neighbors being friendly.
Louis’ words came back to her.You’ll want to taste my nuts, I promise you.More than friendly. His cheeky grin as he’d spoken had left no doubt it wasn’t an unfortunate mistake because of the language barrier.
She didn’t know what had possessed her to open her door. Melinda could’ve ignored his knocking, pretended she wasn’t at home. Perhaps it was the impulse to treat neighbors as family, something her mother had instilled in her since she was old enough to walk. Or the desire to see him in the flesh, face to face. Not the quick glance at his back and glutes she’d caught in the bakery. Or the distorted view of him through the peephole. No. In truth, she was curious. They were identicaltwins, but how different were they, really?
The more times she viewed the security feed, studying the two men—too many times in the last two days—the more differences she found. Louis, with his loping gait and ready smile, was playful, bouncing to the beat of whatever music he listened toin his ear buds as he hit the stairwell, greeting other tenants with a big grin and an exchange of words. Mr. Excalibur, with his fancy watch and serious expression, strode with purpose, acknowledging others with a brief nod, more reserved than his twin, but his intensity was no less disarming than Louis’ boyish charm.
They were a powerhouse pair. Though the security feed was grainy, it hadn’t diminished the effect of their taut asses and defined pecs in those snug jeans and fitted black shirts.Hell.If she watched any more footage of them, she’d soon be offering to have their babies.
When she wasn’t drooling over their black-and-white images going to and from their apartment, she’d been digging into their identities. Trying to establish who these men were, running them through all the software she could think of, and trolling through social media platforms looking for them. She’d even hacked into the online sales data of Roger Dubius, for goodness’ sake. Two sleepless nights, hours in front of her screens. Having a name helped, but she’d learned very little. Every morsel hard won. What she’d found would barely justify the file she’d created for it.
Louis and Pierre Montagne. Thirty years old. Unmarried. Residents of Paris, France. Employees of Wolf Enterprises. The more she dug into Wolf Enterprises, the more convinced she became it was a shadow company, a front. Created for whatever purpose they were in London? Possibly. What they did for this company also remained a mystery.
She’d found a few photos of them on social media—not their platforms, for they had none she could find—looking sexy as hell in designer suits. They had tasteandmoney. Never alone, always with women. Beautiful women. Usually sandwiched between the two of them at events, all high-end. Never the samewoman twice. Her body lit up every time she looked at those photos, imagining what happened when the cameras were gone.
The implication was clear. These twins liked to share. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had that exact thought. Every time she saw them on the security feed. Every time she’d lain in bed, her eyes closed, her hand sliding down her body and into her sleep pants, visualizing them slipping between her sheets.
Was that all they were? Two playboy twins? That they’d purchased an apartment down the hall from her merely a coincidence? Nothing to do with her client?
Her blank screen, the victim of malware, taunted her. She would feel much better if she knew what Wolf Enterprises specialized in. It had a predatory ring about it. Maybe it was an ultra-discreet security firm. Or a private investigator for the wealthy. But had the malware attack come from them, or from someone else?
