The Spy Is Cast by Diane Henders

me. “But why are you going if you hate it? Do you really
like this guy that much? Do you think it’s smart to pretend you
want to do this?”
    I made a face. “He
knows I hate it. He probably hates it, too. We just have to go.
It’s a business thing.”
    “You live a very
strange life.”
    “You have no idea,” I
agreed.

Chapter 8
    “Scram.” I pushed
Nichele affectionately out the door. “He’s going to be here in ten
minutes, and I’m nervous enough without you hovering.”
    She patted my arm.
“You’ll be fine. Just be yourself. Have fun. You look
super-hot.”
    “Thanks to you. See
you.”
    I closed the door on
her smile and wandered over to look in the mirror. Calling Nichele
had been a smart decision. She had worked wonders with my hair and
makeup. I actually looked like I might belong at a black tie
gala.
    Now if I could just
restrain my normal temperament and vocabulary, everything would be
fine. Being myself would definitely be a bad idea.
    I had a sudden mental
image of letting fly with a rip-roaring fart halfway through the
elegant meal, and snickered.
    “You behave,” I said
severely to my reflection, struggling to quell its wicked grin.
    A soft knock made me
jump. When I opened the door, my jaw dropped. Kane filled the
doorway, clad in a charcoal suit expertly tailored to his broad
shoulders and taut midsection. His silvered temples looked
impossibly distinguished with that short, dark hair. His freshly
shaven square face looked rested, and I caught the faintest whiff
of citrus. Not even the scar through his eyebrow and the bump from
his badly healed broken nose could detract from the whole package.
The man was breathtaking.
    “Wow,” I said
inadequately.
    Kane looked like he
was doing a bit of deep breathing, too, and his grey eyes darkened.
“Wow, yourself,” he said finally, his deep baritone a little husky.
We exchanged an awkward smile.
    He reached into his
pocket. “Don’t forget this,” he said, opening the velvet box. He
lifted the necklace out and placed it around my neck, brushing my
skin. As he took his hands away, he let one of the tendrils of my
hair slide through his fingers.
    He took a step
back.
    “Oh,” he said after a
short pause. “Rings.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew a heavy
gold band, and slipped it on his left ring finger. He held out his
closed hand. “For you.”
    I held out my hand,
and he dropped two rings into my palm. One was a plain band, the
other an enormous diamond. I gazed up at him wide-eyed. “Holy crap,
does this thing come with a bodyguard?”
    He grinned. “Me.”
    “I’ve already got a
ring,” I told him, showing him the one I wore. Robert had had it
custom made for me, a top-quality half-carat in a simple,
sophisticated setting. It looked tiny beside the one in my
hand.
    “That’s a nice ring,
but it’s not quite the bling we need for tonight,” he said. “Put
that one on your other hand.”
    I slipped on the pair
of rings and mimed dragging my hand. “I’m going to have one arm
longer than the other after tonight.”
    He laughed. “Let’s
go.”
    I grabbed my new
purse, already regretting that it wasn’t big enough to carry my
waist pouch, and sighed as the door closed behind me.
    When the elevator
doors opened on the lobby, Kane offered me his arm and I took it,
smiling up at him. Even in my high heels, I was still a good three
inches shorter than he was. I relished the novelty. If I’d worn
these heels when I was with Robert, I would have towered over him
by six inches.
    When we entered the
lobby, I froze.
    “ Shit! ’ I swung
Kane around and hid behind him. “Take off your ring, quick,” I
hissed as I put my hands on his chest, yanking the rings off my
finger and dropping them into his breast pocket.
    He slid his arms
unhurriedly around me and leaned down. His lips brushed my ear.
“Relax,” he whispered, his breath sending a rush of heat through my
body.
    Behind my back, I felt
him remove his ring. He