Clutching her things to her chest, she watched, heart pounding, body still humming as he strode for the door.
“Rhys?”
He didn’t turn.
“This was practice,” he said tightly. “And that’s all it can be. My priority is completing the mission, getting your sister home, and, most of all, keeping you safe while we do it.”
Then he walked away, leaving her aching and more confused than ever about why he was so dead set against them fixing what had gone wrong and moving forward together.
One thing was certain, San José was going to test every restraint they had left.
Whether either of them was ready for it remained to be seen.
Chapter 12
Gaby was elbow-deep in case files when a brisk knock cut through her concentration.
A courier stood in her doorway with three stacked boxes and two garment bags, all stamped with the elegant black-foil crest of Maison Revaud.
Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t afford to breathe the air in that boutique, one of the most exclusive in Miami.
“There must be a mistake.”
“Are you Gabriella Flores?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then there’s no mistake.”
He set the items inside and disappeared down the hall before she could ask a single question.
Gaby approached the pile cautiously, half-expecting it to disappear or worse, strike. She tugged the ribbon loose and lifted the lid. Inside, layers of cream silk paper edged in black concealed whatever waited beneath.
She peeled back the layers then sucked in a breath. Almost afraid to touch it, she lifted the crimson silk dress. It spilled over her hands—cool, fluid, indecently gorgeous. Not just a dress but a statement.
“That is going to look incredible on you.”
When she looked up, Cari leaned in the doorway, sunglasses perched in her hair. She stepped inside and ran her fingers over the fabric.
“Rhys has excellent taste,” she said, admiration in her tone. “Is this for the Costa Rica sting?”
Gaby blinked, unable to decide which piece of startling information to address first. That Rhys selected her clothes or that Cari had just casually called the Álvarez op a sting.
“You know about the mission?”
“I know a little. Dev only tells me what I absolutely have to know, but I needed details to orchestrate the auction. And I assumed you weren’t going to let the man who took the bait waltz out without a follow-up.”
Gaby winced. “You assumed better than me. I made a bit of a scene when I thought we were letting him slip through our fingers.”
Cari’s expression softened. “With what you have at stake, I think you were justified.” Then, brightening, “Can we tear into these packages? I’m dying to see the rest.”
They undid ribbons and tossed the packing aside. Inside were light, flowing pieces clearly chosen for heat and movement: a pale gold wrap dress with a daring slit, a sea-green sundress that would glide over her curves without clinging, and a soft ivory jumpsuit that looked both effortless and expensive.
Shoes followed: strappy leather sandals, sleek neutral heels, and a pair of flats perfect for travel.
Nestled among them on velvet-lined trays were slender gold chains, a cuff set with a single diamond, small earrings that caught light without demanding attention.
Nothing gaudy. Nothing unintentional. Every item spoke of wealth, taste, and status that Álvarez would notice. It was a little overwhelming, especially since everything was in her size. No one had asked, and she hadn’t thought to offer.
