Will watched with guarded eyes.
Max took Alain’s hand as the musicians struck up their instruments.
A waltz. Of course it was a waltz.
Alain led Max and led her by the hand to the dance floor, where the rest of the dinner guests were beginning to congregate.
Alain pulled her close, put his hand on her hip, just above the slit in her dress, and clasped her other hand with his. Their bodies touched intimately; what few parts weren’t touching were separated by mere inches.
The message was clear to all who were watching. Alain and Maverick were lovers. If not quite that close yet, they would be soon. It was as obvious as any neon sign or diamond ring.
Alain had chosen Max.
He ducked his head so it rested in the crook of her neck, and he whispered into her ear, and Max’s ruby red lips twisted in response before murmuring in reply.
“I cannot stand that woman,” Olivia hissed.
Will looked at her long and hard as Olivia petulantly gulped at her champagne, snagged from a nearby waiter.
“I suggest you get used to her, then. It looks like your father plans on her sticking around,” Will said honestly. He expertly hid the bitter edge in his voice, but it whisked through him like a fiery whip.
Olivia looked at him with fury and hatred.
“Why would you say such a thing to me?” she hissed.
Tiredly, he looked away and plastered a smile on his face.
“Smile, love. This is our party, after all,” he reminded her.
“Fuck you,” she muttered irritably.
Will stood and held out his hand.
“Will you dance with me?” he murmured.
For a moment, something flashed in Olivia’s eyes. It made him sick with pity, but he saw it all the same.
It was hope. Stupid, foolish hope that he would be different than every other man who’d ever broken her heart, including her father.
She took his hand and stood.
They went out onto the dance floor just in time to catch a slow dance. He pulled an unwilling Olivia into his arms. Couples milled around the room while a soft murmur buzzed around the room.
He turned slowly and saw Alain and Max.
Slowly, Alain’s hand drifted from her waist further down, to the gentle curve of her ass.
Unaware that anyone was watching, his hand gripped and squeezed firmly.
Oh hell no!
Oh hell no!
The thought ran through Maverick’s mind like a lightning bolt. She said one thing about how beautiful Paris must be and all of a sudden Alain is murmuring French in her ear.
She caught one word, one word she definitely knew, and inwardly blanched before her brows furrowed. She knew only a few cursory words of French, but she was pretty sure that what Alain was describing wasn’t possible.
“Alain, I –“
His hand slipped from her waist to her ass. She froze for a brief moment. A moment that Alain used to palm her ass like a coconut he was stealing at the market.
All kinds of words rose up in her, and she prepared herself to pull away and slap the son of a bitch.
Undercover or not, Mob boss or not, nobody touched her ass unless she wanted them to.
And she did not want him to.
A strong hand tapped on Alain’s shoulder, and his blue eyes danced away irritably.
“May I cut in?” Will murmured.
In that moment, Maverick could’ve kissed him.
Caught by the rules of “polite society”, Alain smiled tightly and stalked over to Olivia, who pouted at Will before grinning at her father.
Will stood in front of her awkwardly, and Maverick smiled wryly.
She stepped forward, gripped his hand with hers, placed his other on her hip and her empty one on his shoulder as the waltz started up again.
“Have you forgotten how to dance?” she whispered conspiratorially.
His face relaxed from the tenseness it had been, and he smiled.
“No,” he said on a sigh. He gripped her hand more firmly as they began to move.
One foot, another. Slowly they twisted in circles as the dance wound around them.
“How are things going?” she murmured.
His gaze sharpened.
“Perfectly. With everything we’ve gotten tonight it’ll be too easy for us to bring it down tomorrow,” he said.
“And why tomorrow?” she murmured.
“We’ve gone over this, Maverick. It’s the perfect opportunity; everyone will be so busy that they’ll be distracted and more easily confused when we storm the place.” His voice was soft and low, and sent shivers up her spine.
Thankfully, his hand was on her hip so he couldn’t feel them.
“What was Alain saying?” Will asked.
She flashed him a look as they passed by Alain, and waited until he and his daughter were on the other side of the ballroom.
Alain’s words spread through her like oil.
Come to my room tonight. When everyone else is in bed, come to me.
Disgust.
“Nothing. Just pervy words in French,” she murmured.
He ducked his head into her shoulder so she couldn’t see the small grin on his face.
Alain would never get as far with Max as he had. He would make sure of it.
Alain’s words rang through her head as the dinner party broke in pieces little more than ten minutes later.
Alain himself gave her one long glance through the window as she walked down the hall.
Behind him, Will gave her a meaningful look as well.
She ignored both of them as she walked down the long stretch of hall.
Her shoes clicked on the marble, filling the eerie silence as she walked.
Alain’s directions to his room rang through her head.
She followed them, going deeper and deeper into the house until she was in the heart of the mansion, in front of two double doors of cherry wood.
She opened them, and the hinges slid noiselessly as she entered.
It was a typical wealthy man’s bedroom; large bed, closet, bar and a master bath.
She closed the door behind her, leaned back on it.
She tipped her head back and took a deep breath.
If she didn’t show up, Alain would be irritable the next day. He would start taking it out on others in the operation, putting them on edge. A few edgy people wouldn’t bother the operation, but it would put more of Will’s men in the line of fire. She didn’t want anything to go wrong; if that meant … doing whatever with Alain, it must be worth it.
Footsteps tapped down the hall, getting closer and closer to the door.
Maverick took a deep breath and stepped away from the door.
