Typing in my last name grants me access to the home screen, revealing a single file.
“From this point forward, Bradford, you have my permission to speak candidly.” Number Four’s announcement is followed by the lowering of himself into the seat across from me. “You may also – for the time being – cease your formal language.”
I nod in acknowledgment at the same time I meet his stare again.
“The information that you have in your hands will not be leaving this office. You are free to sit in that chair or the couch near my desk for however long you need to study the details from now until tomorrow morning when you will report for duty. If you’re hungry or change your mind regarding a drink, I will have The Assistant fetch you whatever it is you would like.”
Another nod is presented.
“Open the file.”
A quick double tap reveals a second folder. Thankfully, this one has a name. “Blake Rothwell.”
Just hearing it causes him to shift in his seat.
The unpredicted action shoots my intrigued glare to him once more. “Friend?”
“Sibling.”
I do my best to pretend I’m not taken back by learning his last name. “Older?”
“Younger,” Number Four’s pause barely lasts a second. “Barely. We’re twins.”
Ah.
Beginning to piece together why this information is only meant for the agent who agreed to the case.
Upon opening this folder, I’m exposed to a multitude of options, yet it’s the one filled with images I click first.
Fucking sue me.
I wanna know if they’ve got some Olsen twin shit going on or Diesel style, where you wouldn’t even know they were related without being told.
There’s no stopping my jaw from hitting my lap the instant I open a photo. Instead of seeing another male who may or may not resemble the one across from me, I’m gifted a heart-stopping image of what has to be the most gorgeous woman alive.
A woman I’m gonna do whatever it takes to keep alive.
Shock over the unsuspecting and foreign thought has me pressing my lips firmly together in hopes of suppressing any additional ones.
Her facial features are thankfully the opposite of her brother. While they share the same dark shade of skin, there’s no denying the femininity she bears. Where he’s sharp and pointed, she’s soft and supple. His preference for a clean-cut, hard to distinguish look isn’t something she mirrors, either. Everything about him feels like a carbon copy of something else. Rules he followed or follows to maintain the sense of status he most likely worked hard to cultivate, yet his sister radiates uniqueness.
A sense of singularity.
Ella es especial.
Like she’s one of a kind and the world should count itself fucking blessed to have her presence bestowed upon it.
Everything from her slightly thicker eyebrows to her facial piercing – a tiny diamond on the left-hand side right by her mouth – makes a bold statement. Even the light pink lipstick looks loud and audacious as it clings to her large, full lips that I wouldn’t mind getting my cock between.
I quickly chomp down on my tongue hoping the pain ignited will banish the inappropriate feelings.
This woman is a job.
A target I’m being paid to protect.
Not some random bar chick that I would love to use my teeth to peel off the lacey, emerald-green cocktail dress she practically has painted on her curvaceous frame in the photo.
Desperation to stop my dick from stirring more than it already is, I swipe to the next picture, only finding myself more fucked than I was before.
This time she’s wearing a shorter but still skin-tight cocktail dress, although instead of a low dip in the back that stops right above an ass, I would be happy to grab two handfuls of, it plunges in the front, putting her ample tits on full display. Between those causing my jaw to throb and her long, muscular legs making my mouth water, it’s almost impossible to stop my cock from swelling to painful proportions in my slacks. Thankfully, having her brother – who is on her arm in the photo – glaring at the camera as well as glaring at me in real life helps keep it from growing out of control.
“Problem?” Number Four concerningly questions, indicating that I’ve been staring at the pictures for even longer than I realized.
After casually clearing my throat and adjusting myself in my seat to better conceal the hard-on that needs to die, I shake my head. “No. I was um…just wondering if all of the photos are this formal.”
“There are a few casual ones,” he quickly answers at the same time he points downward. “You may have to scroll for a bit.”
My cock enthusiastically knocks against my zipper.
No.
Definitely not a good idea.
“Most of the photos in the file were pulled from company events. Gathering them together would be less suspicious to anyone who monitors the media activity.”
I nod my understanding prior to inquiring, “And Blake works for Haworth as well?”
“She’s head of tactical creations.”
My brow pulls together in a silent request for more information.
“Her focus is to create and advance equipment that is used in various divisions of those in physical combat situations.”
“She’s like a war clothing designer?”
“You familiar with the James Bond movies?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s basically like Q except exceptionally smarter and infinitely snarkier.”
Instinct has my mouth cracking open once more.
“Blake is fucking brilliant. She was top of her class – high school, college, and grad. She has honors out the ass and accolades that nine times out of ten make her the smartest person in the room at any given point in time. She is one of the most valuable pieces of Haworth Enterprises, and her safety is crucial.” Number Four tries to hide the emotional attachment yet fails. “Due to her important stance with the company, this prudent operation is sanctioned, which is why it has been signed off on by Number Three; however, we do not want to raise alarm to others in the enterprise potentially giving the threat the power or attention that they are seeking.”
“And what is the threat exactly?”
“We have intel that a potential kidnapping plot is afoot.”
“And who is the threat coming from?”
“Unknown at this time, but we do have two teams working on the information and possible leads. Much like this arrangement, it is being handled in a discreet fashion.”
I once more nod my understanding. “And what is the task itself?”
“Do whatever it takes to safely get Blake to the annual summer conference in Vlasta, Wisconsin. According to the information we have deciphered, we believe the threat’s goal is to prevent her from giving the keynote speech and revealing the latest products we will be putting on the market this winter.” Number Four diverts his stare to the drink he is now gently swishing around. “You will have no life outside of my sister for the next three months. You are not permitted to leave her unattended at any point. His eyes cut back to mine. “You will eat, sleep, and breathe Blake.”