Steel Vengeance (Blackthorn Security #6)

Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

S titch stared at Sloane, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

When he’d told her to buy a dress for tonight, he hadn’t expected her to come back with that.

The dusky pink dress hugged her like a silk scarf, showing off every damn curve. It highlighted the swell of her breasts, cinched at her waist, then flared gently over her hips and cute ass, draping around her knees in a soft swirl.

The color was perfect for her pale complexion and dark hair. She’d even found a pair of matching stilettos that made her legs look impossibly long. He couldn’t stop staring at them.

The flowing, three-quarter sleeves hid the bandage on her arm, and her hair was blow-dried into soft waves that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. On top of it all, she smelled incredible.

“Do I look the part?” She cringed at his stunned expression. “Is it too much?”

“No,” he said, quickly. Fuck. Too obvious. “It’s perfect,” he added, and watched as her cheeks turned pink. If he’d thought she was sexy before, he’d been way off. She was off-the-scale exquisite.

As they walked through the lobby of the luxurious Serena Hotel, he wasn’t the only one noticing. Men—young, old, didn’t matter—sent her appreciative looks.

Feeling a surge of possessiveness, he took her arm. She shot him a surprised glance but didn’t say anything.

There was something else, too. She’d lined her eyes, making them stand out even more. Mascara darkened her lashes, and when she blinked at him, his stomach did flips.

He wasn’t used to that. Nerves weren’t usually something he suffered with.

“Blade’s waiting for us in the basement bar,” he said, nodding toward an ornate staircase that curved down from the foyer.

Blade had gone ahead in a separate taxi to case the bar and make sure their target was there. Never walk into a situation unprepared. As they headed toward the stairs, a liveried bellhop stepped in front of them. “Sorry, this area is reserved for a private function.”

Stitch pulled out his American passport.

Sloane, without any ID on her, leaned forward to give the bellhop an eyeful of her cleavage. The guy turned red and quickly lifted the gold rope, letting them through without another word. No local woman would ever pull a move like that.

“Nice one,” Stitch whispered as they descended the marble stairs into the stylishly lit basement lobby. Pot plants flanked the corners, and recessed lighting gave the place a romantic vibe.

“It’s all I could think of,” she whispered back.

Once again, she’d read the situation perfectly.

They reached a marble lobby, with a single door. Stitch opened it, and they stepped into another world.

A long mahogany bar stretched along one side, with three stylish bartenders mixing cocktails behind it. In the corner, a pianist on a grand piano played smooth jazz that barely rose above the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter. The floors were covered with rich Persian rugs, leather sofas, and ornate cocktail tables. Soft lighting cast a warm, intimate glow over the room.

“Wow,” Sloane whispered, glancing around.

The bar was full, but no one paid any attention to them. The crowd was well-dressed and elegant. The air was thick with the smell of expensive cologne and perfume.

Blade had texted earlier to confirm their target was here—already on his second gin and tonic.

“There’s Vale.” Stitch nodded toward a red-haired man sitting alone at the far end of the bar, nursing his drink and reading a newspaper. A few seats down, Blade lounged with a beer in hand, casually texting on his phone.

Stitch glanced at Sloane. She looked beautiful and determined, putting on a brave face. His chest tightened.

“Ready?” he asked softly.

She gave a nervous nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

The plan was simple—she’d walk over and distract Vale. His phone was either in his jacket pocket or on the bar next to him. Blade would swipe the phone, download the data using the device, and put it back before Vale noticed.

Stitch was on standby in case anything went sideways. The weight of his Glock at his ankle was a welcome reminder. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, and a lot could go wrong. But it was worth a shot.

“Go ahead. Remember, I’ve got your back,” Stitch said.

She gave him a grateful smile before heading toward her handler.