Free Temptation's Kiss by Michelle Zink Page B

wound its way around her heart when she thought too long and hard about the future.
    Then she squared her shoulders and pulled open the door to La Perla.

Three
    “We’ve never seen the guy before,” Kane said, pushing the picture across the desk toward Ambrose. “He entered the building around oh-nine-hundred. We checked the image against our files on both the Alliance and the Legion and haven’t found a match.”
    Ambrose surveyed the image. The guy in the picture was about 6’2”, his dark hair curling against the hoodie sticking out the back of his leather jacket.
    “Scarlet.” Ambrose handed her the picture with shaking hands.
    Kane had to fight not to look away. Ambrose was like a father to them all. It was painful to watch him deteriorate from the warrior he had been to the ailing man he had become. Rumor was that it was cancer, but no one would disrespect the man by asking.
    He’d tell them when he was ready.
    Scarlet, sitting in a chair opposite the desk, took the picture. She studied it before setting it back on the desk. “I’ve never seen him before, either.”
    “He could be nobody,” Rowen said, standing protectively near Scarlet’s shoulder. It had become a familiar sight, and Kane had been surprised at how easily Rowen had slipped into the role of protector, only leaving Scarlet’s side when he was on assignment.
    Then again, Scarlet’s willingness to let someone protect her was just as surprising.
    Kane envied them. Envied Rowen’s ability to look after Scarlet, to make it known that she was his.
    Ambrose tapped his fingers against his mouth. “That’s true. He could be a materials supplier. The armory requires large shipments of iron, titanium … many things.”
    “Can we run the picture through one of our sources in the Clifton PD?” Kane asked. “If he has a record, they’d have him on file.”
    “Something tells me Clifton’s technology isn’t exactly state of the art,” Rowen said. “They might not be able to I.D. the guy without fingerprints or DNA, but we can try.”
    “What about the press?” Scarlet suggested. “There’s that reporter … Margaret O’Reilly? She’s been nosing around since Mikhail’s body was found. We could offer her a trade.”
    Rowen raised his eyebrows. “She makes some inquiries about the guy outside the armory and we give her an exclusive on anything we plan to release? Off the record, of course.”
    “Can she be trusted?” Ambrose asked.
    “As much as anyone outside of the Alliance can be trusted,” Scarlet said.
    “We don’t have a choice,” Ambrose said. “Figuring out who planted the Shadowguard glaive in the revenant’s body is our only hope of proving to the Legion that it wasn’t one of us. I’m trying to pacify them, but they won’t be held off forever.” He handed the photograph back to Kane. “Do it. And take Ivan with you.”
    “Ivan?” Scarlet said, sitting up straighter.
    Kane groaned inwardly. Scarlet and Ivan gave new meaning to the term “sibling rivalry,” and Ivan wasn’t exactly well liked by his peers. Entitled and a little spoiled, the words “team player” didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary.
    “That’s right,” Ambrose said, his tone making it clear the order wasn’t up for debate.
    Kane wasn’t surprised when Scarlet kept quiet. Ambrose was the only one who could quiet the outspoken woman. Even Rowen, bigger and fiercer than any of the warriors of the Shadowguard, didn’t intimidate her.
    Kane nodded at Ambrose. “I’ll see it done.”
    He turned to go, not sure what was worse: the fact that they were no closer to discovering who had planted the Shadowguard glaive, or the fact that he had to work with Ivan, who was a royal pain in the ass on a good day.

Four
    She was in her room, cutting the tags off the purple bra and panties—plus a matching robe that she’d splurged on when she’d discovered it was part of the set—when a voice startled her from behind.
    “Lily?”
    She jumped,