I thought I knew what I signed up for. A little light spying in Napoleonic France with a handsome partner in crime. It would be a stroll in the park compared to my past assignments.
Or so I thought.
Someone betrayed us. Now my partner is dead, and I'm a prisoner in one of France's most reviled prisons. I need to plan my escape. I need to get back to England and warn my superiors of what's to come.
And I definitely need to stop flirting with the man who rescued me.
She glanced over at us then, and the look in her dark eyes as her gaze ran over me slowed the blood in my veins. She wore an expression I'd only seen a handful of times, and never before on a female. It was cold, calculating, dangerous. She had the eyes of an assassin.[...]
For the love of God, what has James gotten me into?
I never could have guessed that at that very moment, the female spy was thinking the exact same thing.