Our eyes clash and, for a second, I think he’s seeing straight through me. Maybe he’ll completely ignore me, causing my mission to fail before it even gets started. But then, his hands stop typing on the keyboard and his lips part. It’s the slightest bit, but it’s all the reaction I need to walk toward him at a slow—and hopefully seductive—pace. His attention remains on me as the Italians talk about some security problems in one of their clubs. Kyle follows my every movement as if he’s expecting me to reach under my gown, retrieve a gun, and shoot him in the heart.
