“What do you mean?” she replied, resting a hand lightly on his arm, as if to steady herself. “You don’t want to use the pool? Oh, come on.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.
“Fine.” She sniffed. “I’ll use it by myself. But just so you know,” she added, looking sidelong at him, “I didn’t pack a swimsuit.”
It gave her a thrilling jolt of satisfaction to see his breath hitch for a second, his pupils dilating. At least he wasn’t immune to her flirtations.
Then realization seemed to dawn on him. A small smile appeared on his lips. He leaned against the side of the stairs, his hands in his pockets, and regarded her like a challenge.
“That sounded a little like a dare, Miss Miller,” he said.
“Oh?” she answered. “And what do you think I’m daring you to do?”
He leaned forward so that his arm brushed against hers. “You tell me. Entertain you in the pool?”
Her skin tingled at his touch. “Something you’re experienced at?”
“Well, itismy job to make people happy.”
“And are your customers satisfied?”
He looked straight at her. “I’m very, very good at my job.”
His voice was just soft enough to seem like it was meant for her alone to hear. And in spite of their little game, she found herself hesitating for a heartbeat.
The pause in her reply couldn’t have been longer than a fraction of a second—but Winter caught it. He laughed, a small, bright sound at the base of his throat. There was a satisfied glimmer in his eye, as if he’d won, and annoyance flared in Sydney’s chest.
Oh no, you don’t.
Without warning, she leaned up to his ear so that her lips brushed his skin. She felt him shiver a little. “Speak up,” she whispered. “We’re putting on a show, remember?”
His smug look wavered, making way for a pout. He turned his head to whisper back, “You’re no fun at all.”
Insufferable.Sydney’s heart was still beating rapidly. She hoped hecouldn’t sense it. “Believe me,” she murmured coolly, with her cheek near his, “I’d rather be stuck flirting with a tree.”
He lifted a taunting eyebrow at her. “Now, Iknowthat’s a lie.”
It was. But the last thing Sydney wanted to do was let him win this flirting game, so she pulled all the way back and gave him a tight smile. “A tree wouldn’t be so irritating,” she retorted in a hushed voice.
His smile turned into a grin. “Too bad,” he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. “I was having a good time.”
He whispered it so casually that he could have just been commenting on the rain outside.I was having a good time.
He was doing well staying in character. No surprise there, of course. He was a star, after all, someone who probably flirted every single day of his life. Or was he mocking her ability to be an effective spy? Unless he really meant—
Then he pulled back, his eyes darting away from her in seeming disinterest.
Of course he was just mocking her, still under cover, and more successful at it than Sydney could have hoped. She wanted to hit herself for being pulled into their routine.
She composed herself in an instant and let her voice turn professional again. “Any errands you want me to run, Mr. Young?”
He stepped to the other side of the staircase, then walked past her. “Just the postcard for my mom,” he said.
“Don’t fall asleep until I’m back,” she called over her shoulder. “You’ll make your jetlag worse.”
“And a latte, too, then,” he called back. “Thanks.”
It was a rehearsed question-and-answer between them upon arrival: a way for Winter to send Sydney out of the house to meet a local asset working with Panacea, who would then deliver her a parcel containing items they needed.
