He’s in over his head and I’m the only one who can help him.
When I took this job I knew the deal. Newly widowed single dad with an adorable kid is in desperate need of help. And so I became the girl he needed for the task.
But he doesn’t know any of my secrets. He doesn’t realize what I’m hiding, what I’m keeping from him. He doesn’t know who I really am or what I’m really here to do.
The agency I work for provides exactly what their clients need. They change us, right down to the core, to make us into someone that can get the job done. Before this I was a man, now I’m the woman he hired.
Sweet and soft and innocent. Caring and kind, helping him open up. Helping this grumpy widow show his more vulnerable side.
Because the people who hired me need to know his weaknesses. They need to know where he’s lacking. They need me to find a point they can use to increase pressure.
They need me not to fall in love with him.
And that last part might be my hardest job of all.
Excerpt
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, stepping around him and brushing a little too close and noting that, as I took a few steps away, he turned and followed.
“Aren’t you going to clean up the plate?” I asked, not looking back.
He took another step, long enough to catch up with me as I turned the corner into the front hall of the house, before replying, “I’ll take care of it in the morning before Fred wakes up.”
“Good,” I mused, “Keep her from finding all your dirty little secrets.”
“Evidently I’m not the one with secrets to hide.”
I was glad that I was looking forward when he said that, so he didn’t see the expression on my face. I knew that it was affecting a mix of fear and other emotions that I couldn’t quite get a grasp on, knew it just as well as I knew that the weight of the bag hidden beneath my pajamas meant that this wouldn’t be my last night slipping out to secret away more recording devices.
We reached the bottom of the main stairs, where the hallway to my own loft branched off, and I stopped and turned. Aiden was standing closer than anticipated, the half-light from the streetlights outside illuminating his face in warm but muted light and deep shadows.
“Hey there stranger,” I said, adopting the sultry tones of a femme fatal, “You going my way?”
It was meant to be a joke. But this time he didn’t laugh.
“Are you asking?”
Suddenly I was struck by how close he was. How very goddamn close he was to me.
My eyes looked down and caught sight of his strong chest and the wiry mat of hair on it. I smelled the scent of him, a mix of a cologne I couldn’t place and the sweat of a long day and I inhaled a little too deeply to be anything but obvious and tore my face up, turning my eyes up to look at him.
“Oh,” was all I managed, realizing that we were inches away from kissing.
Analyzing my feelings wasn’t possible then. I was operating on instinct and just going with them, letting my trust push me into the place. I wanted him to kiss me, wanted to know if his body was as hard beneath that housecoat as it seemed to be. I wanted to feel those hands on me and know if all the strength he had was exactly what I thought it could be, more than a whisper.
Utter domination.
“Aiden,” I breathed.
“Zoe,” he replied, his eyes flickering over my shoulder and going cold in a flash once more, “What is that?”