Finally, Dameon looked at her and said, “I apologize on behalf of these knuckleheads, Ashley.” He tilted his gaze in the others’ direction. “And that you have to put up with Winter from now on.”

  Ashley, her cover name. Sydney smiled at Dameon. “Believe me, I’ve seen it all in this line of work.”

  Leo leaned forward conspiratorially toward her. “You’ve got to have some stories to share with us, right?” he murmured to her with a wink. “Adventures in guarding folks?”

  “Oh,” Sydney replied. “Do I ever.”

  Leo laughed. “I’ve never been more excited to be traveling with you all.”

  Dameon looked curiously at her. “How old are you, anyway? How many assignments could you have had?”

  Sydney smiled a little at him. “You’d be surprised.”

  Claire raised an eyebrow at them from over her phone. “Ashley came recommended to us by Elite Securities,” she said. “You boys behave yourselves around her. And I mean it.” She glanced at Ashley, her own gaze wary. “I was told she’s one of their best bodyguards. Winter convinced me to bring her on. Now leave her alone. She’s here to make sure you all stay safe.”

  Leo whistled a little. “Elite Securities. Best in the business.”

  “That’s no joke,” Dameon added, looking impressed. “I heard you all trained in the marines.”

  Winter leaned on his knees. “So best be careful with what you reveal around her,” he said. “She catches everything.”

  Sydney narrowed her eyes at him. He still hadn’t entirely forgiven her for their training sessions. “I’d say it’s my job to notice you, Mr. Young,” she replied.

  Winter smiled innocently at her. “And?”

  And you look like the hottest damn person who’s ever existed. The honest answer shot unbidden into her mind.

  She loathed that she could feel a slight flush rising on her cheeks—especially since she knew he was trying to get a rise out of her.

  So instead, she said coolly, “And you should update your cologne. It’s awful.”

  It wasn’t—it made him smell like a dream. But Dameon let out a low whistle and exchanged a knowing look with Leo, then glanced at Winter.

  Winter just settled back into his seat and looked away with a scowl.

  The rest of the ride passed uneventfully. The wet streets of London blurred by outside the windows, the cacophony of tall red buses and motorbikes, ambulances and crowds mixing into a steady ambience. Sydney’s fingers toyed with the roll of wafers in her pocket as she reviewed their plan in her head.

  An hour later, they pulled onto a rain-washed path in Kensington. The car dropped off Leo and Dameon at a complex reserved for them and several other crew. Then it stopped before an elegant, Georgian-style estate, the bare limbs of a wisteria plant climbing across its white stone façade.

  Two men in black suits were already waiting for them here. As they stepped out, one of the men came over to hold a hand out at them.

  “This way, please,” the guard said.

  They followed him through wrought-iron gates to the front entrance, a black rectangle twice as tall as she was. The man pushed the door open, and it revealed what looked like a dream.

  No matter how many times Sydney ran missions for Panacea in rich neighborhoods, she would never get used to setting foot in houses as glamorous as this. Sydney had grown up in a two-bedroom shack of a place, the curtains all rotted away, the carpet dotted with black mold from the time their home’s ground floor had flooded during a winter storm.

  This place was bigger than any residence in London should be. The main foyer opened to a wide room with a back wall made entirely of glass that stretched all the way up to the third floor. From the inside, Sydney could look through it to a huge, elegantly manicured garden. A waterfall curtain ran down one section of the glass wall, trickling into an indoor infinity pool that ran the back width of the house. The pool was designed in such a way that someone could swim in the cozy warmth of the indoors while watching the rain outside. Before the glass wall and the pool, a dramatic staircase of smooth white stone coiled up, spiraling around a modern chandelier of dripping crystals.

  Beside her, Claire made a sound of approval at the space. Winter studied the home with a careful eye. Sydney realized to her annoyance that a space like this must be second nature to him, that his own home probably contained similar luxuries.

  A man’s voice drifted to them from somewhere in the living room that they couldn’t see, calling for them to step in. Sydney felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. As they made their way down the rest of the foyer and into the living room, she found herself staring straight at two figures seated on a curving couch on the right side of the fireplace.

  Eli Morrison and Penelope were already here. Before them on the low table lay an elegant feast—dishes of fresh caviar, slices of iced fruit, carefully cut meats, artfully plated meals of filet mignon and lobster. Glasses of champagne that looked like they’d just been poured.

  Claire leaned over to them. “Nix the dinner at six,” she whispered. “I guess we’re eating now.”

  Sydney felt a lurch in her chest. Eli Morrison waited for no one. He was a billionaire, and plenty of people greeted guests for him so that he didn’t have to.

  But here he was, in the flesh, ready and waiting with his daughter. The man looked tall and fit, with a deep tan and a head of silver hair and wrinkles in his smile. He wore a luxurious linen shirt underneath a perfectly tailored suit, and his hands sat easily in his pockets, giving him an easy sort of confidence. Behind his glasses was a glimmer in his eye and a warmth that, if Sydney had known nothing about him, she would have found genuine.

  Now all she could do was imagine that glimmer in his gaze while he oversaw the torture of a hostage. While he snapped his fingers and ordered the execution of an entire family.

  She noted an attendant standing in the corner, waiting to fulfill any request. Two more stood near a large sliding glass door that led to the gardens. She had no doubt there were guards stationed throughout the house.

  Eli Morrison gave them a smile and stood up. Penelope did the same, her hands wringing nervously.

  “Well!” he said. His voice was quiet and kind, not what Sydney was expecting. Chills ran down her spine. “I imagine the city’s traffic must have you both in a mood. Hopefully your temporary home will soothe that.”

  Winter smiled at him. “I’ll say.”

  Sydney let herself stand a little closer to Winter. Let Eli think that Sydney was playing the role of a good bodyguard. Beside her father, Penelope Morrison uncrossed her arms as they drew near. Now Sydney could see that the girl was shaking slightly, her smile oscillating between excited and terrified. Her hand repeatedly tucked her hair behind her ear even though there were no loose strands. Her eyes looked glossy with excited tears, her gaze hooked on Winter as if she was physically incapable of turning away.

  His biggest fan, indeed.

  When she glanced at Winter, he seemed at ease, completely unbothered. No doubt used to this kind of reaction.

  Eli smiled at the superstar. “Winter Young,” he said, offering a hand to him. “I’d like to extend to you and your team my deepest thanks for fitting us into your busy schedule. I like to make sure I know anyone in this world worth knowing—and I’d say you’re at the top of that list for a lot of people.”

  To Sydney’s relief, Winter didn’t miss a beat. He took a step forward, returned the man’s smile, and shook his outstretched hand. “The honor’s mine, sir,” he answered. “If I’d known you were going to greet us here yourself, I’d be much more anxiously dressed.”

  Eli laughed, waving Winter’s deference away. “And what does that look like, Mr. Young?”

  Winter glanced to Eli’s side and met Penelope’s gaze for the first time. She startled. “A guy trying to make a good first impression,” he said, giving her his polite, secret smile.

  She looked away from his gaze immediately, as if she couldn’t bear it. Her eyes wandered instead to Sydney. Sydney offered her a courteous nod.

  “This is my daughter, Penelope Morrison,” Eli said, squeezing the girl’s shoulder affectionately. Sydney noted that Penelope didn’t respond to the gesture. “She’s been talking my ear off about you for years.”

  Winter gave her a bow of his head. “What an honor, Miss Morrison,” he said to her.

  “Oh!” she breathed, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. “The honor’s mine,” she managed. Her voice was trembling a little, but otherwise it sounded high and clear. “I’ve been a fan of yours since your first single.” Her nervous smile returned. “I love everything you’ve ever put out.”

  Winter laughed a little in surprise, as if this was the first time he’d ever heard such a compliment. “That means a lot, coming from you,” he replied, and she blushed so red that Sydney thought she might buckle.

  Winter glanced at Sydney. “This is Ashley Miller, one of my best bodyguards.” Then he nodded at Claire, who offered them both a polite smile. “And Claire Richardson, my manager.”

  “Of course,” Eli Morrison said, giving Claire a respectful nod of his head. “Please, sit. Eat. Make yourself at home.”

  “It’s the best celebration we’ll attend all year,” Claire replied, sweeping her hands in front of her in an elaborate gesture. She took a spoonful of caviar and heaped it onto a tiny toast. “Winter’s excitement at your invitation was something to behold.”

  “We’ve attended several of your concerts, you know,” Eli told Winter as they sat down. Beside him, Penelope nodded, her lips pressed together. “You put on an impressive show.”

  “Thank you.” Winter said with a shy smile. “I do my best.”

  “I think I enjoyed your performances almost as much as she did,” Eli said with a laugh. Penelope fiddled with the edge of her dress. “You’re one of the only things we can agree on, Mr. Young.”

  “I’m flattered,” Winter said.

  “And when should we expect to see you next?” Claire said to Eli. “I want to make sure we’re ready for our next encounter.”

  Sydney felt a rush of affection for the woman. Claire couldn’t seem to care less that she was talking to a billionaire—she was cool and unbothered all the same.

  “I’ll look forward to your presence at the concert,” Eli said.

  Penelope took out a little yellow card and pen from her pocket. When she flipped the card over, Sydney saw that it was a portrait of Winter. “I was wondering if I could get your autograph?” she asked hesitantly. “Maybe a photo?”

  As Winter got up to accept her card and take a picture with her, Sydney’s eyes flickered to Eli. The man was staring at her. He offered her a kind smile. “You must be very good at your job,” he said, “to be the only bodyguard that Winter Young chose to have with him.”

  Sydney studied the man’s expression behind his glasses. He would expect her, a lowly security hire, to defer to him without cowering. So she lowered her eyes, then said, “I assure you I’ll keep him safe, sir.”

  “And how old are you?” he asked.

  “Nineteen, sir.”

  “Nineteen,” he mused. “Just about the same as Penny, then.” His eyes flickered briefly to his daughter, who was fixing her hair as she pressed against Winter for a photo. “American?”

  “From Houston, Texas, born and raised.”

  “Ah, a Texan. Suburb?”

  He was testing her for lies, Sydney realized, looking for holes in her answers. Behind his kind façade was the man she was looking for, the one who could ship tons of illegal chemical weapons across borders. But Sydney just replied obediently, following her cover, careful to look like she was pleased by his attention. “Pearland, sir. Attended Shadow Creek High School.”

  “Pearland.” He nodded. “One of my directors grew up there. What brought you into the security world?”

  Nearby, Winter said something to Penelope in her ear and she let out a tiny gasp behind her hand. They both laughed quietly. At least he was playing his part well so far.

  “I’d actually hoped to join the navy,” Sydney said to Eli, “but got kicked out of boot camp for, uh, poor behavior. I worked security in a parking lot for a while before getting accepted into a bodyguard training program.”

  “In Houston?”

  He was mapping out her past and storing it away for future reference in case she ever said something that didn’t match. “Out in San Diego, sir,” she said.

  The man raised an amused eyebrow at her. “Did the navy kick you out for picking fights?”

  “Yes, sir.” Sydney pretended to blush in shame.

  “Claire told me you came from Elite Securities,” Eli went on, his eyes still searching her. “Impressive, and so young.”

  “She did,” Claire confirmed, sounding nearly defensive.

  “And what brought you to them?”

  Even for a trained agent, Sydney felt the pressure of his quiet interrogation. Winter looked over at her for the first time since he’d joined Penelope’s side. Behind his cheery exterior, she could see him shoot Eli a wary glance. So, he sensed an underlying menace to the man’s tone, too.

  “They were aggressively recruiting people like me,” Sydney replied.

  “People like you?”

  “Young women, sir,” she said. “We are a very trendy security hire this year, as our presence tends to blend more seamlessly in at formal events.”

  “Yes, I know.” Eli nodded. “I’ve hired a few like you as well, and they have all proven to be very effective at their work.”

  There was a slight lilt at the end of his sentence.

  Realization jolted through Sydney. Eli was implying that she was here because Winter was sleeping with her. A convenient booty call.

  Winter’s eyes shot to her at the same time she looked at him.

  That’s a good thing for Eli to assume, she told herself forcefully, trying to convey it to Winter through her glance. It was in their best interest for the man to think that she’d been chosen to come on this trip because Winter wanted to bring his current fling with him. It would serve as the perfect red herring, would keep him from taking her seriously.

  It still didn’t stop the heat from rushing to her cheeks. That was good, too, her genuine reaction to his insinuation. So she let her expression turn bewildered, and opened her mouth to protest.

  Beside her, Winter nodded as if he hadn’t caught the subtle reference. That was also what a star would do in this scenario, she thought, if it really were true. Pretend he knew nothing. “Ashley’s as professional as they come,” he said.

  “I have no doubt,” Eli replied. His insinuation was gone now, as if he’d never made it. Sydney closed her mouth and let the moment ride itself out.

  Her eyes darted briefly to Penelope. She didn’t seem to catch her father’s suggestion, either—her smile was still fixated on Winter as he took his place at his seat across from her.

  To her gratitude, Claire jumped in and offered Penelope a winsome smile. “We’re so delighted to be here to celebrate your birthday, Miss Morrison. And we’re going to make it one for the history books.”

  “Or your money back,” Winter quipped, winking at Penelope, and the girl laughed again, running a hand nervously through her hair.

  The rest of their dinner passed smoothly, and at least there were no more interrogations. Eli seemed uninterested in doing the same to Winter. Another point for Sauda, Sydney reluctantly conceded, choosing someone like Winter for this job. Eli probably had no suspicions about Winter’s very public history. What dangerous secrets could a pop star hold?

  At last, they rose. Sydney looked on as Winter shook the man’s hand a final time.

  “If you have a need,” Eli now said, “I will make sure to accommodate it. There’s an entire staff at your beck and call on this property. And if you find something upsetting, just say the word.” The man smiled. “I can make most things happen.”

  He said it in his quiet, considerate voice, but it didn’t sound like reassurance to Sydney. It sounded like a threat. It felt as plain as if Eli had tied them both up and held a knife to their throats. He could make most things happen—he had the money and means to make sure they had a comfortable stay, or that they disappeared.

  His smile widened and, satisfied, he turned away from her to escort his daughter down the stairs. Penelope looked over her shoulder at Winter, her smile giddy, and he gave her a conspiratorial nod in return.

  At the entrance, two men greeted them and ushered them into their waiting sedans. Then the cars departed, and they were finally alone.

  Only then did Winter cast Sydney a meaningful look. “So we’re sleeping together, are we?” he mumbled.

  Sydney winced, then dropped her face into one hand.

  Claire let out her breath. “Well!” she said breezily. “What an absolutely monumental prick.”

  11

  Someone Is Always Watching

  The first thing Sydney did, as Claire left and Winter set about unpacking his dozen suitcases, was to run a scan on the house.

  It was an even more impressive space than she’d suspected. On a subterranean floor directly underneath the main living and dining room, there was a private cinema and bowling alley. The second floor had a private salon and beauty parlor room, along with closets as big as her entire apartment back home. Out on the opposite end of the gardens was a separate two-story house meant for staff. Above the third floor bedrooms was a massive deck and rooftop garden, from where Sydney could see London’s night cityscape sprawling before them, a twinkling wonderland under a curtain of rain and fog.

  Sydney wandered around each floor, taking out a Necco Wafer from her pocket every now and then and popping it into her mouth. At each floor, she pressed a small button on her key ring. The scan ran silently. She could see a red grid layout appear on her phone as it went, mapping the home’s rooms and searching for bugs built in beneath the drywall.

  As she suspected, several dots lit up in the common living spaces.

  Good to know, she thought grimly. Not that she would do anything about them. Disabling those bugs would just tip off Morrison’s crew to the fact that Winter’s bodyguard might be more capable than was normal. But at least she knew where they could whisper more freely in the house and where they needed to disguise their conversations behind noise or stay entirely silent.