It would all come down to who pulled the trigger.
“We get what we came for,” Austin answered, steel in his tone. “And you get your man. Beyond that, we’re not willing to share. I’m more than happy to take Polly home right now and call tonight a wash. It would be a dreadful waste of my genius, but I will endeavor to recover.”
A tense silence passed, Chicago wind funneling down the sidewalk.
“My officers will stand down, but they’ll be ready to move at a moment’s notice.” Derek grated, already unclipping the two-way radio from his belt. Relief lifted its head inside Austin—after all, additional protection for Polly tonight was why he’d intentionally allowed Derek to remain on their trail—but panic ensued at the captain’s next words. “But I’m sending over an officer to put a wire on Polly.”
“Absolutely not,” Austin snapped. “You have no idea who we’re dealing with. If he sees or even suspects she’s not legit, he’ll…he could…”
Polly pressed her lips to Austin’s cheek when he couldn’t continue. “He won’t. You have to trust me.”
His instincts screamed for him to shoulder Polly and make for the closest train station. But he couldn’t. They were in it. Too late to turn back now. And part of him was glad he would be able to hear what took place, so he would know if Polly needed him. If she did, he would be removing her from the situation in seconds. “Make damn sure it’s a female officer putting the wire on her.”
“Start talking,” Derek prompted after barking a terse command into his radio.
“We don’t have much time,” Austin said briskly. “Driscol and his missus are waiting for us. Oh, and the disgraced cop you thrust into our midst.”
“Jesus,” Derek muttered. “I’m going to regret this.”
It was quite possible they all would.
…
Polly felt an invisible caress between her shoulder blades and knew it was Austin, watching her. Until now, she hadn’t been nervous. She trusted Austin, trusted the plan. But right before they’d parted ways, he’d kissed her. Not just kissed. He’d separated them from the group, tugged her into a doorway, and feasted on her mouth. He’d been so thorough, making savoring noises in the back of his throat, branding her with his tongue. She couldn’t stop replaying it in her head, remembering his expression as he’d pulled away. There wasn’t a name for how he’d looked at her. Or if there was, she hadn’t come up with it yet.
There was no time, either. As Austin had reminded her over and over, she was playing a role. Breaking character wasn’t an option.
Bowen walked ahead of her on the sidewalk, a careless arm thrown around Sera’s shoulders, although Polly knew his attitude was far from casual. He’d made it clear if he sensed a hint of danger, Sera would be out of there in seconds and heads would roll. Polly sensed that Sera’s provocative attire wasn’t doing anything positive for Bowen’s nerves, either. Sera wore a black corseted dress with a slit running all the way to her hip. Paired with a short blond wig, the getup rendered the undercover cop virtually unrecognizable.
Initially, when Austin had pegged Bowen as the closest member of their group resembling a con, she’d been skeptical. But like had recognized like, apparently, because Bowen’s swagger and confidence were exactly what they needed to project. In his expensive suit, he was every inch the cocky boxing promoter. Smooth with just the right amount of cunning in his eyes.
Henrik was to her right, clearly unhappy at being the epicenter of their strategy, especially since he’d been informed of Derek’s involvement. Polly understood that sentiment all too well. The captain had given them a second chance, and they’d gone behind his back. It would take them a while before they earned his trust back, if ever. She didn’t hold out any hope of Henrik ever trusting any of them, however. Not after she’d unearthed the only tool that would guarantee his participation.
When they reached the glass double-door entrance, a hotel employee stepped back to allow them entry, unable to hide his interest in their ostentatiously dressed party of four. Polly checked the urge to tug her dress’s neckline higher, preferably up to her neck. Heat stole up her cheeks when she remembered Austin putting her into the garment, the way he’d dragged his tongue across her chest, his gaze locked on the swells of her breasts the entire time.
“I’m going to press these together later and slide my cock between them,” he’d said. “Other men will look tonight, sweet. They’ll want to touch. But you know your servant touches them best. And so do they.” He’d blown cool air across the damp path left behind by his tongue, turning her nipples erect. “My mistress.”