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“I’ll do it.” He snatched the tube.
“Cain—”
“Sit.” He jerked his head at the large, L-shaped, gray couch. He shoved some of the black throw pillows aside.
“Fine.” She huffed out a breath and sat. “You need to chill. It all worked out, and the chip is fine, too.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the chip.” He sat beside her, then lifted her feet into his lap. That dislodged her robe, showing a lot of bare leg, and smooth skin.
Shit. He couldn’t stop staring. His cock gave up the fight and hardened. Then he saw the scratches on her small feet.
“Damn, Jet. I’ll call a doctor.”
She made a sound, then she shifted and pressed a hand to his cheek. “Take a deep breath.”
He did as she ordered, air filling his tight lungs.
She smiled. “I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor for scratches, and whatever mayhem you’re planning, save it for the mission. Now, cream.” She wiggled her toes.
Her smile eased something inside him. Carefully, he smoothed the cream onto the scratches. He’d never really found feet sexy before, but hers were. He stroked her arches, and he heard her suck in a breath.
Their gazes met. He watched her white teeth sink into her bottom lip. He kept stroking her foot. Her toenails were painted hot pink.
“Does Sara Mardis wear pink polish?” he asked.
“I’m guessing no, but I had to get a splash of color in somewhere.”
He’d almost lost her.
The thought of no Jet—no sass, no smart-ass messages, no smile—made his gut harden. It was something he couldn’t contemplate.
The knock at the door made them both jolt.
“That’ll be room service.” His voice was husky.
“Good, I’m hungry.” Her voice was husky as well.
“Me, too.” And it had nothing to do with food. He squeezed her foot and rose, his thoughts churning, and his heart—which he’d thought cold and shriveled—was beating hard.
He was so fucked, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care.
CHAPTERSIX
The next morning, Jet finished donning her next Sara outfit.
Thankfully, Cain had retrieved their suitcases from the airport. Today, she was wearing slim-fitting pants in black with a button-down shirt in emerald green, with a fitted, black jacket. She finished straightening her hair. She’d slept pretty well. The huge bed in the luxuriously decorated bedroom had felt like a fluffy cloud. Why did beds and pillows in expensive hotels always feel so good? She’d tried to find the same down pillows for home, but they were never the same. It had to be a trade secret.
The best thing about her room was that she could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance. It was much,muchbetter than from the back of your abductors’ car.
The only thing that had kept her awake for a while last night was knowing that Cain was one room away, lying in his bed. Did he sleep naked?
God. She bobbled the straightener.No naked Cain fantasies, Hex. She didn’t need to burn her fingers.
She finished her hair and double-checked her makeup. She patted the front pocket of her shirt. The data chip was resting in there in its special case. It was none the worse for wear for having had a dip in the Seine.
Today, she and Cain would wander the Global Tech Summit at the Paris Convention Center. And the buyer should make contact.
Sara Mardis didn’t have any details on who the buyer was, or when they would make the approach. All Jet knew was that the buyer would approach her at the conference. It was all very vague.
