Taking the Bait: An ARC Operatives Romance Read Free

the deal. You get the living room with the pull out couch and that crazy kitchenette with a fully-stocked vodka cooler, and I get the bedroom with the soaker tub.” She turned, folding another arm over her breasts and glared up at her ‘husband’. His eyes tumbled down her front and then he rolled them, zipping over to her dress in a blur. It irritated her like an itch she couldn’t scratch that he was constantly tapping into his augmented power even when it wasn’t necessary. If he moved by her too closely it would mess up her carefully styled hair as well.
    “You were taking too long,” he complained, running a finger over the long, elegant sleeve of the dress, “and I am bored.” She huffed and stood, marching over to him although it had less effect due to the plush carpet muffling her stomping.
    “Don’t touch the dress,” she ordered sharply, even as he took it down in spite of her words and held it out so she could take it. He leaned back against the door, letting it click shut under his weight as his eyes met hers. She grabbed the hanger and pointed at the door that lead to the living area of their suite. “Seriously, there’s a big flat screen and some shitty porn out there with your name on it. Go entertain yourself.”
    “How am I supposed to complain of how long my pretty wife takes to get ready if I have not observed the process?” he asked, shrugging one shoulder and quirking an eyebrow. She hated that eyebrow, had learnt to hate it during training. It always meant he was in a mood, and that mood was be as annoying as possible. She turned away from him and walked to the bed, pulling the dress delicately off it’s hanger and laying it down on the bed so that she could unzip it.
    “Men like you don’t watch their wives dress. They’re too busy smoking cigars and talking about all the money they have.” The dress pooled silkily on the floor as she stepped into it and pulled it up her figure delicately- there was no way she wanted any snags or lost sequins before the night had even begun.
    “Mmm, the reason we are having marital problems in the first place, yes?” he asked, and then with another brush of air current he was right behind her, his fingers tugging gently at the back of her dress. She let out a breath and was about to snap at him to cut out the games when he murmured, “the zipper was going to catch on your slip. Let me-” She felt him slowly, so slowly, pull the zipper tab up her back, tracing the gentle slope of her spine. His knuckles traced a heated line through her slip, preceding the zipper as it went. The dress settled over her shoulders, feeling heavy with all the beading, something like armor. His fingers just brushed the back of her neck for a moment, a ghostly touch she barely felt, and then he was gone, at the door, clearing his throat. “How much longer do you need? Not even my sister would take this long.”
    The sensitive skin at the nape of her neck was still tingling from his touch, the effect he’d had on her having taken her fully by surprise. It’s just nerves for tonight, she thought, pre-op jitters. Rykov warned you about this, so get ahold of yourself, and she exhaled to calm herself.
    “I’m almost ready, ass, just let me put on my shoes. Don’t forget your jacket, you’re not even done yourself yet.” She looked down at her suitcase, pulling out the pair of heels that would bring her eyes up above his shoulder (he was tall, she was short, but her slight height and stature made for a more likely escape in the event of an emergency if he had to fireman carry her out of a bad situation), and when she glanced at the door he was gone, presumably finishing with his own prep. She bent and wiggled her heels on, before walking out of the bedroom. The shoes, at least, were comfortable for ones that were taller than she normally bothered with. Chucks and cute ballet flats were her mainstay, but Rykov had hammered into her the art of walking like a delicate