The drink was good. Damn good. Dutton knew how to mix a cocktail, that was for sure. Reece was tempted to knock it back in one shot, but he forced himself to nurse it instead. He wasn’t trying to get wasted, he just needed something to take the edge off his nerves.
God. Reece couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous before a mission.
He was just draining his glass, when Fairchild emerged from the closet. The dress she had on was blood-red, and it clung to her curves like a second skin. If it had been any shorter, Reece mused, it wouldn’t have counted as a dress at all. As she crossed the room, she performed a quick pirouette, letting the Mercs see every side of her.
“So,” she said, smiling. “What do you think?”
Reece set his glass down on the bar and met her in the middle of the room. He looked her up and down. It had only been a few minutes since he’d rutted her in the shower, but his dick was already lifting the front of the towel he had tied around his waist.
“I think Slayn’s not gonna know what hit him,” he said.
Fairchild answered in a voice that was sticky sweet, but Reece could clearly see the hatred burning behind her eyes.
“That’s the plan,” she said.
She’d kept her accessories to a minimum—a simple gold cuff twisted around her upper arm, a matching pair of hoop earrings, and a small pendant that hung down between her breasts. That last item was no ordinary piece of jewelry. It contained a small transponder that would allow Reece and his comrades to track her location via their handheld devices.
Slayn’s accommodations took up the entire top floor of the hotel where he was staying. That made it impossible to know exactly where the date—and the hit—would go down. Most likely, Fairchild would need to escape through a window once the target had been eliminated. That would be easier than fighting her way out through Slayn’s security. Reece and the others would have to position themselves where they could render support after the shit hit the fan. It was going to require improvisation.Lots of improvisation.
Dutton had come around from behind the bar, and now he stood next to Reece, taking Fairchild in with his eyes. He was wearing his special glasses, but he didn’t need to see through her clothes. Her body was on full display.
“Damn,” Dutton said, his voice low and rumbling. “Slayn’s one lucky son of a gun.”
“Only for tonight,” Fairchild said.
Reece smiled faintly at the double meaning. After tonight, Slayn wasn’t going to be lucky at all. He wasn’t going to be anything.
Reece watched as Fairchild lifted herself up on her toes and kissed Dutton on the mouth. Then she turned to face Nash, who had sidled up behind her.
“Knock ’im dead, babe,” the young Merc said.
Fairchild kissed him too, then she turned to face Reece again. He pulled her close and stared deep into her dark eyes. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t with all the cameras around. Instead, he silently repeated what he’d said in the shower, and he could have sworn he heard Fairchild silently answer.
Be careful.
I will.
He leaned down and kissed her hard and deep on the lips, a kiss that he wished would never end. Then, at last, he pushed her away and gave her a playful swat on her backside.
“Get a move on,” he said. “You don’t want to keep your date waiting.”
She smiled and headed for the door, and Reece watched her go, half-hypnotized by the back-and-forth motion of her hips. When she reached the door, she turned and blew a kiss. Then she slipped out into the hall.
The countdown had begun.
Reece’s instincts wanted him to spring into action, but he knew the cameras were still on, and he suspected he was still being monitored. He turned to face the other two Mercs, trying his best to play it cool.
“Well,” he said. “Guess it’s boys’ night out for us. Any plans?”
“Figure I’ll hit up the casino,” Nash answered. “Try my luck with the dice.”
Reece nodded. He knew Nash didn’t give two shits about gambling tonight. But Calyxia’s top casino was right next to Slayn’s hotel. It was a good spot to post up until it was time to run.
Reece turned to Dutton.
“You?”
“Thought I might go for a little swim, get a few laps in.”
