I started undressing, not even caring if he walked into the living room. Not caring about anything, really.

I turned and looked at myself, I looked tired and chesty. My br**sts with the water bra were ridiculous. The push-up of it made it look like I had far too much for my bra… Yeah, that was the problem.

He came out of the room in a tux. He looked gorgeous. Gorgeous in the Dior commercial sort of way. He was breathtakingly beautiful. Wide shoulders, thick arms, a solid chest and a trim body was one thing, but the stunning face, kissable lips, and amazing eyes were the killer part. He was handsome in a tux, the way all men should be.

I hated him.

It was easy at that moment.

He looked at me, "Makeup is in the bathroom, be snappy."

I sighed and walked past him, "Are you even going to tell me what we are doing here?"

He nodded, "Yeah, afterward. I want you relaxed, you stress too much."

I walked into the bathroom to find a blonde wig and a spread of makeup. I slipped my hair up into a small ponytail and pulled on the hair net. The wig was one of the ones that only the very rich had. It was what all CI agents used. Only the best for our undercover ops. I wondered how he had managed to procure all of this stuff if we were in deep cover.

I pulled on the wig and looked at myself. The wig had been styled, sweeping bangs across the forehead and soft curls. I looked like a Barbie. It was incredible hair. I put the bright-blue contacts into my eyes, hating the feel of touching my eyeballs, and dropped the eye whitener that moisturized into each eye. I blinked several times until it fit and felt good. I put on the dark eye makeup and false lashes. Once I had on the bright-red lipstick, I didn’t even recognize myself.

I was a different girl, completely. If James knew me in that, he was a psychic. I came out of the bathroom to find Coop at the window with the binoculars. He was staring at their room. He put the binoculars down and looked back like he was about to yell at me to hurry up. When he saw me, he stopped, "Fuck!"

I laughed, "I know."

He shook his head, "It's crazy, you look so different." His eyes roamed up and down my body. He was stunned. I was angry. He seemed more interested suddenly, when I no longer looked like me.

But even my libido was annoyed with him so I ignored his roving eye.

He called them as we walked from the room, "Leaving now. Be there in an hour. Be ready."

In the elevator, he didn’t try anything. He stood there, silent and evil. I wasn’t sure what I had done to deserve his wrath, but I had already been married. I had done my time with a crotchety bastard so I chose to ignore him.

We got into a cab. He seemed oblivious to all of the people staring at me until we were in the car, "Safe to say, this was a bad idea."

I frowned, "What?"

He nodded at me, "You are getting more attention than a supermodel, not exactly the incognito I imagined."

I laughed, "Now you know what it's like being with you all the time. Every woman in the room gawking and wondering how on earth I landed such a handsome young man."

He chuckled, "Kim, my precious bride, it is you that is the beautiful one in this relationship."

I shoved him, "Fuck you, Jon."

He laughed harder, but I shook my head at him and looked out the window, muttering, "Your mood swings are unbearable."

I laughed, “Pots and kettles, a**hole.”

Chapter Seven

Jon the John

The hotel was magnificent. It was the sort of place people got married at or had massive conventions at. The fountain in the front was nicer than any I had ever seen. It was just as stunning and sparkling at every angle. Beautiful people of all shapes and sizes entered, wearing tuxes and wraps and gowns. Everyone was draped in designer garb and glittering from head to toe. I felt like I was at the Oscars.

Coop took my hand in his. He pulled a pair of tickets from his jacket and pulled me across the plaza to the entrance. He handed the tickets to two men who ushered us inside.

The sign was in Italian, leaving me still confused.

"Why are we here?"

He nodded as we entered a massive ballroom filled with tables and decorations and God knew what else.

"It's a casino charity event. Nights of Monte Carlo, to be exact."

The room was almost spinning, it buzzed so hard with life and excitement.

"And again, why are we here?"

He turned to face me, "We are going to do a little gambling."

I swallowed hard, "What?"

He nodded, "Jack has four people from the list living here in Rome. I think it's a pretty safe guess that the people on the list would be working together to get the Burrow. No coincidence that James and his men are in Rome if four people from the list live here. They'll betray each other later, but for now, they just need to find it. I am going to try to gamble with the one we think is the most obvious."

I instantly started to sweat, "Do you think James is in this room? Or Servario?"

He sighed, "This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Do you want to find Servario? ’Cause I couldn't give a shit about finding him. I'm doing this for you. If you're going to be a baby about it, I'm going back to the States to hide out in Smallville, Montana. Servario and James and all of them can kill each other off and you and I can get back to relaxing around the fire and fighting the awkward attraction we have for one another."

He was doing it for me? Why? I pushed away the way those words made me feel and gave him my usual response. I looked around the room, nodding, "Not going to happen. You and your emotional-wall building need to take a hike. So you want me to be the stupid blonde you bring with you everywhere?"

He started to laugh, "Exactly. Bond, baby. Bond and the blonde. I am a rich young man, you are the pretty girl I have hanging off my arm." He led me down the stairs and down into the massive room.

We walked up to a blackjack table. He sat down and played, I stood there like a statue. Being the pretty blonde sucked. Men leered, one groped, and several propositioned me. Each time Coop looked back, giving them a deadly look. They backed off instantly. He won a huge stack of chips within a few bets. The lady next to him leaned over and kissed him for good luck.

She glanced back at me, "I hope you don’t mind."

Before I could open my mouth, he discounted me completely, "She doesn’t care."

I stood there, stunned and wounded. The lady gave me a look, scooting her chair closer to his. I couldn’t believe he would treat me so poorly, but I knew it was the act. I focused on the room.

Suddenly, my stomach dropped. The room spun and I was sure I would be sick any second. My mouth hung open but he walked right by me.

The man I watched didn’t know me, he wouldn’t. My mother wouldn’t have known me. He looked remarkably healthy and happy. His face was fresh shaved and his slightly-longer hair was chin length and very European chic. He too looked like a model, maybe a Hugo Boss ad. It was disturbing.

Steve had f**ked me over.

That was why he hadn’t fought to come with us. Servario had never been taken.

Servario was stunning from every angle as he crossed the wide room. As was the girl he was escorting. A sound left my lips. I didn’t know what to think or say or do. I stood there in my disguise, feeling completely exposed. My heart felt like it fell onto the carpet in front of me.

He was fine.

He was totally fine.

Limping along behind him was worse, far worse. James walked with a cane, smoking a cigar and escorting a beautiful brunette. They strolled nonchalantly into the back room. The trail of smoke and my trembling lip were the only evidence that they had ever been there.

"Servario and James are here." The words left my lips so softly I didn’t think he had heard me. He was laughing with the lady next to him. But I watched his back straighten as he glanced about "Where?" he muttered.

I nodded towards the back of the room.

He could see me in his peripheral.

My heart was in my throat. I was never going to come down from the panic attack I was silently having. I let him f**k me and he literally f**ked me, he and my husband. They had strolled past me with a bevy of babes and a cocky grin each. Neither having a care in the world. I certainly wasn’t on the list of things either gave a shit about.

Shit. Shit. Double shit.

How the hell was I going to finish the night of being Coop's Barbie bitch with the two of them there? I couldn’t. I leaned over, "I need to use the washroom."

Coop grabbed my arm and growled, "Stay here. You can go when I tell you to."

I froze. I kind of liked bossy Coop. The lady next to him gave him a look and then me. She seemed intrigued, "Why don’t you let her go and let me stay with you?"

He didn’t stop grabbing my arm but looked over at her, "She is my good luck."

I stood there, inwardly sobbing and hugging myself.

The lady nodded, "I see. What makes her so special? Maybe I could be your good luck."

I almost laughed as she proved the whole point he had been making about women being predictable and only really liking men who were a**holes. He was being a jerk and the lady was throwing herself at him.

Coop played three more hands, winning a large sum of money, before a man in a suit came to him and asked if he wanted to play in the back room. He answered with a nod. The lady gave him another kiss, slipping him her number. I pretended I didn’t see, but she smirked at me, happy I saw.

I followed him like a f**king geisha girl to the back room. When he walked in, he smiled instantly at Servario, who nearly choked on his cigar. He looked at me briefly, but he didn’t recognize me. His eyes were back on Coop instantly. James didn’t know Coop. He didn’t even notice Servario nearly having a stroke. Coop smiled at them all, "Thanks for inviting me to the game, gentlemen."

The men at the table nodded at him but eyeballed me. I felt like I was on fire or under a microscope. Servario didn’t look at me again. He nodded across the table to Coop, "What's your name?"

Coop smiled brightly, "Jon. Jon Rinaldi from Canada."