“It’s Tash,” Kenzie lied. “She’s watching. She’s not saying anything of importance right now. We should get a glass of champagne.”
The event was being held at a castle that was usually a museum, but tonight it was decked out, and she wondered how it would have looked when the king was in residence. Did Croatia have a king? Now that she thought about it, Croatia might not have existed back then. She thought it might have been Yugoslavia then, but that wasn’t the point. The point was she could see all those medieval ladies and gentlemen dancing and feasting and falling in love.
And having dysentery and no human rights and stuff, but again, not the point.
Ben would have been a king, and she would be the lovely servant girl who caught his eye. The good girl who was saving herself for marriage and a family. But he would take one look at her and claimdroit de seigneur. The right of the lord. The one that meant any medieval lord could claim a night of sexual rights over one of his servants.
Of course, he would end up falling madly in love with her and they would have an epic love story that crossed continents and set the world on fire, and he would defy society and his family to make her his lady.
“Maggie?” Ben asked. “You okay?”
“Kenzie, I swear to god if you are writing some kind of romance novel in your head because you’re in a romantic castle with lover boy, I’m going to punch you right in the face when you get back,” her sister vowed. “Hey…”
“Sorry.” It was Lou’s voice that came over the line now. “I cut her off. It’ll take her at least half an hour to figure out what I did, so let’s get this op going. The target checked in earlier, and I have eyes on two men who could potentially be the meet-up. They’re both in the ballroom.”
It was time to work. She was sure she would catch hell from her twin when she got back, so she should concentrate on the job and get through this.
“We should dance. You promised me you would dance with me,” she said like a good trophy wife should. With a pout that proved how indulged and coddled she was by this man.
Except she wasn’t indulged or coddled by anyone. She was supposed to be tough and competent, and sometimes it was so exhausting.
He stared down at her for a moment. So few men could tower over her. She found it intoxicating. “What were you thinking about? Don’t tell me the op. I know what your face looks like when you’re concentrating on work. This was different.”
He knew what Kala’s expression looked like. It rankled that she had to share this, too. She loved her sister. Loved her like she was a part of her own body, and they had their strengths and weaknesses. Kala would lay her life down for Kenzie, but she’d never had to share the way Kenz did. Kala was broody and dark and often uncompromising. It hadn’t endeared her to other kids. So Kenzie shared her friends. Kenzie lost friends when Kala got annoyed with them. Kenzie always included her sister no matter how much it hurt.
She didn’t want to share Ben. Not even a little. Not even when she was mad at him and sure it could never, ever work, she hated the ideathat half the time they’d “spent” together had been with Kala.
“I was thinking about how fun it would be to role-play here. You could be the lord of the manor and declare sexual rights over me, your lovely but lowly serving girl.” She took a breath and turned to the ballroom where a stringed quartet was playing. “We should dance.”
He tugged on her hand, and when she looked back his jaw was slightly open. He stared for a moment and then took the lead. “We should dance.”
It was only an op. It wasn’t more. It wasn’t the culmination of her girlish dreams to find a man she loved more than life itself. Nope.
Sometimes it was hard to be the wide-eyed dreamer in a family full of spies and military men and women.
A waltz started up, and Ben brought her hands into the proper position. “Is he here?”
The question was asked on a whisper, his lips barely moving in case anyone was watching on the cams. Of which there were many.
She squeezed his arm once. Once for yes. Twice for no.
“On the dance floor?” Ben asked as he started to lead.
One squeeze.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Maggie,” Ben whispered, the hand on her waist tightening. “Were you really thinking about role-playing?”
She shrugged. He probably thought she was a complete pervert. Or that she was trying to manipulate him with sex. She’d had a boyfriend who told her that. When she’d explained she was only trying to get an orgasm, he’d gone to the she-was-a-complete-pervert argument.
“I was. It’s a beautiful place, and I enjoy role-playing. It takes me out of my head and lets me unleash the parts of myself that don’t get let out often.” While she was talking softly to Ben, she was also keeping up with her steps and looking around to get eyes on the target.
“What parts, Maggie?” Ben asked. “What parts don’t get to play?”
The man could dance. She felt light in his arms, like this was where she belonged. “My submissive parts. On your left.”
His eyes moved with the practiced subtlety of a man who’d played spy games for years. She could see the moment he clocked the target moving with his partner. “Submissive? I rather thought you preferred to be the top.”
So he’d been reading up. She was fairly certain the man had beenmostly vanilla. Oh, she knew from Dare that Ben claimed he’d studied a bit for a woman he was seeing, but she didn’t think he had any real training. And naturally his read on her was completely wrong. Kala was the one who felt the need to top a partner. Not lover. She wasn’t sure her sister had ever had a lover.
