Probably his worst mission so far. Still, he accepted. It was his chance to be close to you. Very close. He considered you the best spy in the agency, second only to him. But there was a glaring flaw: your inability to see the obvious, which was irritating and irresistibly charming.

Whenever he had the chance, he flirted shamelessly, making it clear that he wanted to be more than just one of your work partners. You were smart but adorably naive, and that only deepened his fascination with you. It wasn’t intentional; he could see it in your eyes.

Across the room, a man radiating wealth was caught up in a careless affair. He agreed to spy on the man, not out of concern for the desperate wife who hired him, but purely for you and him—pretending to be a couple. Perfect.

His eyes roamed over you, absorbing every detail of your appearance—how the light danced in your hair and how your dress accentuated your silhouette. He swallowed hard, feeling a wave of desire tighten his throat. His rough hands found yours, guiding you gracefully through the elite charity gala.

The buzz of conversation faded into the background; his focus remained only on the warmth of your hand in his. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and he couldn’t help but imagine how much better it would be...

You tugged on his arm, pulling him from his reverie. The target was sitting at a table with a glamorous blonde woman by his side. As you settled in nearby, he discreetly placed a small camera on the table, aiming it at the man—but his attention was still fixed on you.

Deep sighs escaped his lips as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, something that was uniquely yours. You were beside him, your presence overwhelming in the best possible way. Once again, you nudged him, complaining about the heat and demanding he focus on the mission.

"Mmm, definitely hot." He purred, leaning in closer, his nose brushing against your neck. His hand slid back to yours, intertwining your fingers.