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The video cuts right before he finishes.

I don’t think. I don’t plan.

I call him.

He answers on the first ring.

“It’s not happening,” he says, without clarifying.

There’s no need. We both know I’m going to ask for the end of the video.

“The bar. Or my hotel room. Those are your options. I hope you pick the hotel room,” he says. “We’ll have more privacy there. You can make good on your promise.”

He ends the call.

He doesn’t offer his room number or the name of his hotel (though I could certainly find those things, if I wanted).

We both know we’re meeting at the bar.

He’s too sexy. Surprising him at his hotel is tempting. Really tempting. Why not risk an ambush if it means I tear his clothes off?

Death is easy to find. The electric pull between us? Not so much.

But I have no time to linger in that thought.

My phone lights up with a message from my handler. A response to my status report:

The boss wants to talk to you. Be ready for her call in twenty minutes. And, Jamie, for the love of god, be on your best behavior.

After we trade code words, and make small talk, Hera jumps right to the point. “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer honestly. Are you in love with him?” There’s real care in her voice. Like she’ll understand if I say yes.

So I consider it.

I did play my part well. So well I started to believe it. But how could I claim I love him given the circumstances?

That’s absurd.

“I’m a professional. I can kill him.”

“Yes or no?” she asks.

This is a trap, of course. Spies don’t fall in love with their targets. “Of course not.”

“And there’s no part of you that wants to save him?”

Of course there is. He’s… Matteo. “Well, he was a great fuck.”

She doesn’t laugh. “Is that what matters to you? A great fuck?”

Uh…

It’s not the answer she wants. She understands my temperament, to some degree, but she doesn’t appreciate the way I prioritize my lust for life. She’d prefer if I favored more practical methods of murder.

“Only if I’m looking for someone to satisfy me tonight,” I say.

She makes a hmm noise, like she’s considering reassigning me. Or sending someone to kill me. “It’s thrilling, good sex. I’d never deny that. But we don’t hesitate over great sex. We hesitate over love.”

“It’s just a little sentiment.” An attachment to a good time. Not anything else.