Five…four…three…two…
One.
I resisted the urge to jump up and shout. Lucius burst forth with a stream of curses so foul and black Sahara Rose nearly seized. She did sink into a faint, her hair fanning out around her.
“He’s going to kill her,” Ren gasped. He whipped out his cell unit, and held the small black box to his lips. “We need backup—”
I grabbed the unit and tossed it to the ground. The sound of cracking plastic greeted my ears.
Ren’s mouth gaped open, and he blinked at me in shock. “What the hell did you do that for? I need to protect the suspect. She’s—”
“Fine,” I said confidently. “She’s fine. He won’t hurt her.”
“The hell he won’t.” Back and forth Ren paced, his agitation manifesting itself in the brisk way he moved. He jerked a hand through his hair. “He’s in a rage. He won’t be able to control himself.”
“For God’s sake, calm down, Ren. You’re working yourself up over nothing. His anger is directed at me. Not Sahara Rose.”
“You?” He ground to a halt. A gleam of confusion entered his eyes, as if I’d spoken a foreign language and he needed to translate the words. “I don’t understand.”
“Nor do you need to.”
Gaze narrowing, Ren snatched at the gun holstered at his side. I quickly laid a hand on his wrist. “Lucius won’t hurt me either,” I said.
“How the hell do you know?”
I smiled sweetly. “Woman’s intuition.”
Lucius stormed from Sahara Rose’s cell wearing an expression of utter violence. His eyes blazed bright blue, his cheeks glowed vivid red. His muscles were bunched and ready to spring into action. I laughed. Ren paled and blinked at me as if I were insane. Maybe I was. Who else would laugh in the face of such a man’s fury?
He deserved it, though. He’d been so confident of his success. And he’d failed. I had the chance to show him up, to beat him. I laughed again. How fun this was going to be.
I’m not sure how many seconds passed before Lucius stormed inside the observation room. Beside me, Ren froze in place. Lucius’s gaze locked on mine. He braced his legs apart and fisted his hands at his sides.
I didn’t even try to hide my amusement. “You lost,” I said.
His eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t mean you’ll win.”
“But it means you lost.”
He popped his jaw, but didn’t respond.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” I said. “A lot.” I unbuttoned the first three buttons of my shirt, causing the material to gape and reveal the lacy edges of my bra. Both men watched me, Ren with fascination—it didn’t take much to douse his fear, did it?—and Lucius with fire. Lusty fire or black, angry fire? I wondered, as I pulled out my ponytail and combed my fingers through my hair. I licked my lips.
“I’ll be back in five minutes,” I said.
His eyes narrowed further, mere slits that completely blocked the color of his irises. “That confident?”
“Oh, yes. If you’ll excuse me, Ren. AgentLuscious, ” I said, nodding to Lucius before I sauntered past him and out of the room. Had I forgotten to mention that Sahara Rose didn’t like men? Oopsie. She might be EenLi’s lover, but she found men sexually repulsive. Little Miss Sahara Rose liked her phallus strapped on and plastic. The more delicate and sexy the woman, the more susceptible Sahara Rose became.
Did I feel guilty or ashamed or even less of an agent for using my femininity as a weapon? Hell, no. Look at everything Lucius had tried. Look how sublimely he failed. A good agent uses whatever means necessary to win. Men could scoff at my methods if they so desired, but let’s be honest. They’d do the same thing if they could. Men never hesitate to use their strengths, so why should women?
Two armed guards stood posted at Sahara Rose’s door, which was adjacent to the room I’d been in. Their gazes seemed to devour me. I knew it wasn’t my appeal as a woman that so entranced them. I’d learned long ago that humans were simply susceptible to anything gold.
I arched a brow insolently, and one of the men quickly punched the code that opened the door. I swept inside without a word. There were two chairs. No bed. No table. A large, black screen comprised the far wall; that was it. This wasn’t a room meant for comfort, but for intimidation. Michael hoped that the more uncomfortable the room, the less time the suspect would want to spend inside it.
I crouched beside the unconscious Sahara Rose, growing angry with Lucius. He hadn’t even attempted to catch her. I sighed. Her body was splayed across the floor in the exact position she’d landed in her faint. She’d fallen backward, but at least she hadn’t cracked open her skull.
She was a young girl with too-pale skin and pretty, light-colored hair. Beautiful, yes, but her looks were already fading and showing signs of wear. Stress could do that to humans—age them before their time.
Cradling her head in my hand, I gently brushed aside wisps of hair sticking to her temples. “Sahara Rose,” I said softly. “Wake up for me, baby.”
She moaned and murmured something unintelligible.
“Come on, sweetheart. Wake up.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. When she realized where she was, absolute panic flooded her blue eyes. She struggled against my hold, but I held firm, keeping her in place. I might appear dainty because of my gold coloring and small bones, but my intense workouts kept me strong.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I whispered against her ear, letting my breath caress her cheek.
The moment I spoke, she stilled completely. Her desperate gaze sought me, and whatever she saw in my face made her relax. “That man. Is he—” She gulped, trembled.
“He’s gone,” I said, stroking her jawline. “After the way he scared you, I sent him to clean the toilets. That’s all men are good for, anyway.”
“Thank you,” she said, sinking deeper into my hold, clinging to me because I was the only lifeline she’d encountered.
“My pleasure, sweetheart. Can you sit?”
She bit her lip and nodded, then slowly eased to a sitting position. She wore a plain white top and matching drawstring pants. Both had been given to her courtesy of Michael. Because agents were nocturnal creatures who usually wore black, we always kept our prisoners in white.
“I want to go home,” Sahara Rose said, her voice trembling.