“I’m not lying to you, Mr. Gable. I’m just relaying what Lander told me.”

“Ah.” Travis drums his fingers against his knee as he studies me. “It’s hard for women, isn’t it?”

“What’s hard?”

“Having sex with a man without getting emotionally involved. How many times have you fucked my brother now? Five times? Ten? Twenty? Has he made you come every time?”

“Mr. Gable, I’m not getting emotionally—”

“We’ve moved on from that question; now I’ve asked you another. How many times have you fucked him and how many times has he made you come?”

I press my lips together and glance toward the door.

“In the video,” Travis says as he gets to his feet and walks behind me, “you came while you were on a table.”

I can feel his hands touching my hair. Again I glance toward the door.

“He had just turned you on your back,” he continues. “And then he rode you like a man would ride any good mare. And you just couldn’t get enough. And then the two of you came together. Very romantic. And as far as I could tell, he wasn’t wearing a condom. Wonderfully thoughtful of you to let him come inside you. He certainly seemed to appreciate it.”

“Mr. Gable, I think we’re getting off topic.”

“No.” Travis’s hands move to my shoulders, which he massages with firm, steady movements. “We’re definitely on point. You have fucked my brother and he has made you come over and over again, and now you’re attached, and you’re lying to me in order to protect him.”

“No, that’s not what’s going on,” I insist. “He’s just a good time, that’s all. And I’ve been enjoying this little spy game you’ve gotten me into. It’s fun, a bit like a Bond movie.”

“And that would make you a Bond girl, wouldn’t it?” His hands are moving a little farther down, toward my breasts.

I abruptly stand up, putting distance between us by walking over to the window before turning to face him. I despise being alone with Travis, and I hate it when he goads me. But most of all, I hate that he’s right. Not about my supposed attempts to protect Lander, but about my emotional attachment.

My feelings for Lander are not what they should be. Not at all. I’ve fallen for my mark. And the worst part is that I may not be protecting him, but I desperately want to. I don’t want to play by the rules of my own game.