“Any luck with the tiles?”
Andrew faced William. “How would you start a conversation with a stranger if you needed to toy with him for an hour or more?”
Confusion passed over William’s face. “Are you serious? With your sultry façade?—”
“Not me. Her.”
William’s hazel eyes cut to me, and he barked a laugh. “Her? Flirting?”
I blew out an irritable puff. “What is that supposed to mean? I can flirt if I need to flirt. Actually, I don’t even need to say anything. I can do this.”
My hands unfastened the top button of my dress. My medium-sized breasts were nicely pushed together—thanks to bra magic—and my skin had enough tan to radiate against the white fabric of my dress. Andrew’s gaze dropped to my now more ample cleavage, but he quickly averted his eyes.
I took a bracing breath and squared my shoulders. This was such a bad idea.
“I can do this,” I mumbled, but my feet stayed rooted to the floor.
William stepped around me and peered into the restaurant. “Which one is your prey?”
“The—”
“OMG!” William gasped and brought his hand to his heart. “The handsome guy from the Santa Marta hotel is at the bar. What are the chances we meet again?”
“Who is he?” I asked, staring at the bar.
“In the blue polo shirt,” William said.
“That’s the prey.”
William waved his hand in the air. “I got it.”
“Wait,” Andrew said. “He doesn’t know that you’re with us. Richard and Brie only saw Adriana with me. Just make up a story about who you are and why you’re here.”
“Gotcha.” William winked and strolled in Brandon’s direction. He placed his hand on Brandon’s shoulder, said something to him, which made Brandon laugh, and the next second William was on the chair next to Brandon, carrying on a conversation. How in the world…? No wonder William’s clinic had more clients than it could handle, with people parking their names on the client’s waiting list.
“No time to waste.” Andrew gently took me by my elbow and moved us toward the doors leading to the terrace.
As if we were on a pleasant walk, Andrew and I navigated through the spectacular grounds. I scanned our surroundings, searching for the short Barbie doll and her troll husband. At the end of the garden, Andrew pushed through the opening of bushes, and I did the same. Here the grounds were lower, and the building appeared much grander from this view. We weaved through trees, made our way around the building, and soon came to a stop.
“That’s his room.” Andrew pointed up at the tall windows about six feet in the air.
“Okay. Now what?” I craned my neck to spy our point of entrance.
Bribing cleaning staff would have been much easier. But here we were.
Andrew studied four windows, then lifted his arms and pushed in the center where the panels met. The window moved but didn’t open. He applied more pressure, rocking panels several times. The sound of wood snapping punctured the air, and then the window was ajar.
“How did you know it would open?” I turned to make sure no one was nearby. The coast was clear.
“These aren’t original to the building, but about two centuries old. I checked our rooms, and they had the same weak latch.” Andrew grabbed onto the windowsill, pulled himself up, and peered into the room, his shirt doing nothing to hide his taut shoulder and back muscles underneath the fabric. And at the sight of his tight ass, a hot tremor flowed over my body.
“Seems like no one is inside.” Andrew dropped to the ground and stepped back. “Ladies first.”
“Why should I go first?”
“Because I need to push you.”
The top of my head didn’t come close to the window. I could reach a lower part of the casing, but there was no way I could pull myself up. My eyes searched the manicured lawn and flowering bushes near us for anything to stand on, but I came up empty.
