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He wasn’t.

Each time one of our guards moved, his chin lifted slightly. He watched the reflections in the locksmith’s glass rather than looking up at the second-floor windows. When a delivery van blocked his view, he stepped three feet toward the corner without ever taking his phone from his hand.

I kept my eyes on the blazer.

“Kit.”

Her fingers stopped over the tablet.

“Blue scarf. Navy coat. Across the street.”

She didn’t turn.

“Describe him.”

“Forties. Gray at the temples. Phone in his right hand. No gloves, even though it’s cold. He has checked our front guard four times and the rear vehicle twice.”

Kit picked up her coffee and took a slow drink. “Good catch.”

Sloane emerged from the second fitting room wearing a crimson coat. “Do we like this, or does it make me look like I’m planning to poison a duke?”

“Both,” Riley answered.

“Good. I’m going to get it,” Sloane mused.

Kit tapped something on her phone.

“What do you need me to do?” I asked.

“Stay visible,” Kit said without looking up. Her fingers were aggressively attacking the screen of her tablet and I assumed she was notifying our security. And probably all husbands. “Then leave through the rear with us when I tell you. He’ll either follow or alert whoever is waiting.”

“You’re using me as bait.”

“I’m asking whether you’re willing to help confirm that he’s a tail.”

“My answer is yes.”

Five minutes later, I walked down the rear stairs between Amy and Sloane, laughing at something Riley said loudly enough for anyone near the service lane to hear us coming. Kit remained half a step behind me. Two guards waited out of sight beyond the delivery entrance.

The man in the navy coat appeared at the mouth of the lane. He saw me, then changed direction and walked directly into Sergei’s team. The whole thing ended without a gunshot or dramatic chase. One guard caught his arm. Another drove him against the brick wall and removed something from inside his coat. The man struggled for less than three seconds before deciding his shoulder was more valuable than his pride.

One minute later, my phone vibrated.

Sergei: Get back inside.

Me: I was planning to take up street juggling.

Sergei: You will not.

Me: Awww, you are very sweet when you worry.

Sergei: I’m not sweet.

Me: You made me breakfast.

Sergei: Stay inside, little pet. I’m coming for you.

Heat moved beneath my skin at the sight of the pet name, and I tried my best to ignore it as the women all made their way back into the shop.