Chapter 33

Mason tuggedat the collar of his tuxedo, his jaw clenching with discomfort as he surveyed the oversized ballroom taking up a whole wing of the art museum. The place dripped with crystal and art, the walls adorned with towering vases of exotic flowers and the air thick with the scent of perfume and money. It was the kind of operation that made his skin crawl.

He hated the tux, the way it felt like a straitjacket against his skin. He hated the shiny, useless shoes that pinched his feet and made him feel like a clown. But most of all, he hated the fakery, the way the wealthy and powerful pretended to care about the causes they claimed to support while they sipped champagne and schmoozed with their peers.

But he didn’t hate having Avery by his side, looking like a million bucks.

The guests mingled and chatted, their laughter ringing hollow in his ears. What a waste. Should’ve donated their money directly. More efficient. Less pretentious.

But then he’d have missed Avery. Stunning in emerald green. Curves hugged, eyes sparkling. Sophisticated. Poised.

And way too good for the likes of him.

Fenn might annoy him to no end, but the guy had taste for miles.

“You look amazing,” he said, his voice low and sincere as he offered her his arm. “Like a different person entirely.” Ugh. He squeezed his eyes shut. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. That was not what he meant to say. “I mean … I didn’t mean …” Man. What was he, a seventh grader?

“It’s fine. I know. And thank you.” Avery smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she took his arm. “You clean up fairly well yourself. Black tie suits you.”

“You sound surprised,” he said, his voice dry. He certainly was.

Avery shrugged, her eyes darting away for a moment before meeting his gaze once more. “The tux only makes you look tougher,” she said, her voice soft and intimate. “It’s like a warning sign, telling everyone to take heed.”

He had never thought of himself as dangerous. Not in the way that Avery seemed to mean. Like lady-killer dangerous. But hearing her say it, hearing the admiration and respect in her voice, made him feel ten feet tall.

He tapped the comlink in his ear, checking in with the rest of the team. They were all in position, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Kate and Fenn were pretending to be guests. The two stunning specimens dressed to the nines, their cover identities carefully crafted to blend in with the crowd.

Paige and Paul were hiding in the basement of the museum, with Paige running the comm system and Paul providing backup in case things went south.

“Why do I always have to be the waiter?” Tai grumbled over the comlink, his voice tinged with mock outrage. He and Graham were circulating through the crowd, silver trays in hand.

Fenn chuckled, his voice crackling with static. “If you were a normal-sized human, we’d be able to tailor a ready-made,” he said, his tone teasing.

Mason shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His team was the best in the business, but they were also a bunch of overgrown children sometimes. Still, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

As they made their way through the throng of guests, Mason noticed a silent auction taking place in one corner of the room. Many of the pieces on display had been donated by Stenberg himself, and Mason couldn’t help but be impressed by the man’s taste.

On a whim, Mason placed a thirty thousand dollar bid on one of the pieces, a landscape that seemed to glow with an inner light.

Avery’s eyes widened in surprise. “How does a retired SEAL have that kind of disposable cash?”

“Who says I’m going to win the item?”

Avery shook her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She seemed to take his explanation in stride, and for that, Mason was grateful. He couldn’t tell her the whole story. It was classified, and it wasn’t his alone to share. Maybe someday, if things between them continued to progress … but for now, they had a job to do.

A sudden buzz rippled through the crowd. Mason’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing in concentration. At the top of the wide staircase, a portly man in a black tuxedo appeared, his black shirt and tie clashing with his red face and wispy white hair.

“Snow White is in the house,” Tai announced over the comlink, his voice tinged with excitement. “Activate operation Poison Apple. Evil Queen, are you a go?”

Mason shot Avery a glance, his eyes rolling at Fenn’s ridiculous code names. “Queen is a go,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff.

“Dopey and Grumpy are in position,” Fenn added, his voice crackling with laughter.

Graham and Paige checked in, their voices calm and professional. As always.

Time to rattle the man’s cage.

Mason tried to ignore the electrical current that spiked through him at Avery’s nearness. They moved through the crowd, their eyes locked on their target, that familiar sense of purpose rising to the surface of his awareness. This was what he was meant to do, what he had been born to do.