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That she had complicated things a great deal. If she found out how much he knew about her and why, both he and Tallis would pay with a tongue-lashing neither of them would soon forget. While he could survive that eventuality, if she remembered the night he’d taken her home in that taxi and tucked her into bed… Well, that could spell disaster for his tenuous hold on self-control where she was concerned.
    Shaking off a sense of foreboding coming at him with the unswerving velocity of a high-speed commuter train, Günter forced himself to look at the laptop. Best to reacquaint himself with what he knew about her. Focus on the facts. Stop staring at her sashaying backside.
    Jenny Ainsley. Twenty-six. Graduate of NYU. B.S. in Finance. Younger sister and only sibling of Jeremy Ainsley who changed his name to David Tallis under witness protection. Separated from brother at age seven when—
    “What are you typing?”
    Günter slanted the laptop cover downward.
    “Notes.”
    “About me?”
    Again, that was a little too observant. Swiveling, he faced her and nearly rocketed back. She was closer than he’d thought. Too close. He nonchalantly rolled the chair backward, putting some distance between them.
    Soft and pink, her fuzzy sweater highlighted racecourse curves that tempted him to play his hands along her inside track. Damn. She revved him in ways he’d never known possible. Biting down on a curse, he stood, using the motion as a pretext for adjusting the seam of his jeans.
    “Sit.” The word came out more forcefully than he’d intended.
    Dark eyes blinked up at him as she darted her tongue along gloss-frosted lips.
    Transforming an unmistakable groan of arousal into a growl, he pointed at the chair behind her. “I said sit.”
    Eyes narrowed, she dropped into the chair.
    Somehow he had to regain the upper hand. His email chimed again and he flipped the laptop lid open to look at a message from Agent Gray containing a transcription of his notes from his interview with Jenny. He found it odd the man would share this depth of intel until he saw Gray’s postscript. Didn’t realize you’d been MI-5. Apologies for the runaround.
    Skimming his eyes over the attachment, he said, “Tell me what happened tonight.”
    A heavy sigh told him Jenny was tired of relating her story, but he didn’t care. Agent Gray and he agreed on one thing according to his report. Jenny was hiding something.
    The surveillance stills he shuffled through were fairly useless—just two shadowed forms struggling against a backdrop of weak exit lights. He tried the infrared cameras next, but found they’d been tampered with. What the hell? Nobody other than Günter and David even knew the cameras existed. How had someone accessed and neutralized them?
    He returned his attention to Jenny. Even if he hadn’t already known it, her body language—the way she splayed her hands, twisting them against one another, the darting of her eyes—told him she concealed something. And if she was anything like her brother, it would be something that could get them all in hotter water than Günter cared to face.
    The very idea that she might be involved in illicit drug deals made him sick with anger and disappointment. If he got the truth out of her now, maybe they could get her life cleaned up before she got into more serious trouble. That still left the question of who’d bugged her bedroom…
    He shook his head. Too many threads leading in too many directions. He had to start with one. Hip braced against the table, he towered over her, arms folded across his chest in a show of power and confidence designed to unsettle her. It was much more difficult to keep track of a lie when flustered, and he intended to fluster her quite a bit before they were through.
    With a toss of her head, she looked up at him. He narrowed his eyes in an effort to resist dipping them to the cleavage peeking above the v-neck of her sweater.
    “I—was getting ready to go to work,”