“Yes and no. I was trained by the government, but work for an independent contractor.”
“You’re losing me,” I say clearly confused.
“That’s probably a good thing. The less you know about my occupation, the better.”
“So, you’re not a government spook?”
Kayne chuckles. “I’m not even sure what that means. What I am is a former U.S. soldier who was recruited for a special operations program because I possessed certain personality traits.”
“And those traits are?” I’m engrossed by every ounce of information he feeds me.
“Low morality and no identity. I didn’t mind killing people, and I didn’t care if I got killed. That’s the most lethal kind of agent. It’s also the kind of agent the government doesn’t like to associate themselves with directly, which is why I’m employed by a privately funded contractor. It gives us, and them, flexibility to go around the law so to speak.”
“Do you still feel that way?” I frown.
“What way?”
“That you don’t care if you get killed?”
Kayne’s face softens. “I’ll let you know at the end of our vacation.” He runs his thumb down my cheek. “Enough shop talk. Let me worry about protecting the free world and you not worry at all. How does getting out of here for a little while sound? We can go check out the white sand beaches and down a dozen fruity drinks with those stupid little umbrellas in them.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I laugh, “and the recipe for a really bad hangover.”
I DECIDE ON ONE OFmy new bathing suits for the beach. The strapless stringy two-piece that barely covers my ass. I was going to save this one, but the idea of seeing Kayne’s face when I wear it is too tempting to pass up. He’s either going to love it, hate it, or—and my money’s on this one—hate the fact that he loves me wearing it. Either way, I win on all accounts.
I walk out into the living room where Kayne is waiting for me, and his expression falls. “Ellie, what are you wearing?”
I look down at my body. “A bathing suit?” I reply innocently.
Kayne raises his eyebrows. “Ellie, that isn’t a bathing suit; that is a string wrapped around your body.” He clearly disapproves. I smile to myself. “I have a cover-up.” I show him the sheer white shirt that’s practically see-through.
He grimaces. Too bad.
“Are we going?” I walk past him toward the front door. “I want to see the island.”
Just as I turn the knob and crack the door open, it slams shut. I glance behind me.
“You can’t go out like that.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” he asks exasperated. “Because you’re indecent!”
“It’s a bathing suit,” I argue.
“That is not a bathing suit,” he reiterates. “It’s something Jett would dress you in to entice me.”
“Who says that’s not what I’m trying to do?” I bat my eyelashes at him.
“Baby, I’m already enticed. Now, please go change.”
“No.”
“Ellie.” His patience is wearing thin. Good.
“Kayne,” I mimic his tone, “my father doesn’t even tell me how to dress, so don’t think you’re going to.”
“I think if your father saw you wearing that he might have something to say.”
