Page 18 of Deadly Charade

Natalia smiled. “Then please arrive at five thirty for appetizers and drinks. I will inform the Dominiks that you accept their invitation.”

The woman’s formal tone denoted her place in the household. She served the Dominiks. Despite appearing to be young—maybe late twenties—Natalia’s demeanor conveyed her age as much older. She had a hard look to her dark eyes, which were in stark contrast to her light blond hair. The woman might be beautiful on the outside, but Kira sensed the housekeeper had seen her fair share of life’s struggles that had dulled some of her shine.

Kira could relate.

Natalia turned and left. Bryce closed the door. “I guess we don’t have to invite ourselves over after all.”

“And we get to scope out their place.”

They returned to finish cleaning up the kitchen. Kira sliced the cake while Bryce finished loading the dishwasher. She loved that he helped clean up.

Kira took the plates of cake to the table with the added ice cream on the side. She texted Agents Hudson and Kaup that dessert was ready, and the pair took their cake and ice cream to their station near the living room window.

“Just an FYI, my favorite ice cream is Moose Tracks,” she said once Bryce sat down at the table. She dove into her dessert, wondering if the FBI had a dossier with her favorites listed for moments like this.

“I like plain ole vanilla.”

“Really? Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

He devoured the cake. “You really are an amazing cook, Kira.”

Heat filled her cheeks. Apparently she cared what he thought of her cooking. Of her. “I’m just glad to have someone to cook for. My roommates and I don’t always have the same schedules, and I hate cooking for one.” She took another bite of dessert. “Enough about cooking. Tell me about your last relationship. It might give me a sense of what kind of couple we might be.”

He winced.

She’d struck a nerve.

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you willing to share with me the ins and outs of your past relationships?”

He’d deflected. She’d allow it. For now. But she mentally noted he’d hit some rough patches when it came to his love life.

Hadn’t they all?

If she wanted him to share, she might need to go first. “I’m not saying divulge all your personal secrets. But I want to know our relationship dynamic. If there’s a disagreement, do we argue and hash it out in an epic blowup? Or are we the kiss-and-make-up kind who sweep everything under the rug?” She took another bite of her ice cream. “Are we touchy-feely in public, or stoic and separate?” She pointed her spoon at him. “Because if you try to kiss me, I put enough garlic in that chicken dish to kill a vampire. Consider yourself warned.”

He laughed, and it was the first time she’d seen the man loosen up since she’d met him. Maybe he did have a sense of humor after all. If not, this was going to be a long assignment, with her sarcasm lacking a shutoff valve.

“I see us arguing a bit,” he said. “You’ve got that fiery New York don’t-mess-with-me vibe going on. We might be rich in our undercover lives, but that doesn’t mean I give you everything you want. And I think we have the appropriate amount of touching without being obnoxious about it and making people feel uncomfortable.”

“Noted. But I need more. Was it love at first sight? Our stories have to match.”

“Really? You need that level of detail?”

She crossed her arms. “If I’m supposed to work over Sophia Dominik and become her friend, I want more than a piece of paper’s worth of information.”

He groaned. “Fine. But, for the record, I don’t believe in love at first sight.”

Neither did she. Well, until recently. And it wasn’t love, merely a magnetically strong attraction to Special Agent Bryce Lambert. Tall, dark, and handsome apparently was her thing. Just because he made her heart skip a beat here and there didn’t mean anything would happen other than they’d do their jobs and move on when this was over.

“We met at the art auction,” he said. “You kept bidding on a piece I wanted. And I let you have it in the end so I could strike up a conversation with you. I asked you for coffee, and we started seeing each other. And then three months later we got engaged.”

“Well, that was fast.”

He paused. “Have you been engaged before?”

“I thought we weren’t going to get personal.”

He smirked. “I need to know ‘what kind of couple’ we are.” He had tossed her words back at her.