King Me (Forever Wilde 7)

It belonged to the people, not Elek Kemény.

Oh, who was I kidding? I didn’t care nearly as much about the Hungarian people as I did keeping Elek from having anything he wanted that badly.

So I’d swallowed my pride and skulked to the closest airstrip to the vineyard and waited for Falcon in the FBI’s private jet. The very presence of Falcon and the jet indicated the importance of whatever this mission was, and it had taken all of my self-control not to start off by rattling off a thousand questions to him like an eager child.

I’d done my best to play it cool instead, like I could walk away at any minute if this began to bore me.

As if.

When we returned to the plane, Falcon’s team joined us. I stood and stretched before reaching out my hand to shake.

Falcon was all business. “Kingston Wilde, this is Aislinn Brennan, the Interpol liaison on the team.”

I gave her my flirtiest smile and was pleased to see her fair skin flush in response. “Nice to meet you.”

“Call me Linney,” she said in a lovely Irish lilt. She returned my smile and shook my hand before finding a seat on the other side of the aisle from where I’d been sitting.

Up next was a short guy who looked too young to be employed by any law enforcement agency. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a button nose. The kid was kind of cute, if a bit nondescript.

“This is—” Falcon was cut off by the smaller guy.

“Doesn’t matter. They all call me Mouse.” His voice was so soft, I had to lean in to hear him. The skin of his hand was just as soft, and his smile was sweet. “Nice to meet you. I’m a fan of your work.”

“Jesus, Mouse,” the other man said from behind him. “I don’t think you’re supposed to tell him that considering he’s a criminal.”

Mouse shrugged, still holding my hand. I noticed Falcon’s eyes on where our hands joined, so I held Mouse’s grip even longer just to piss the senior agent off a little.

“Pleasure to meet you, cutie,” I said, causing Mouse’s face to go up in flames.

“Jesus Christ,” Falcon muttered.

Mouse skittered past me to sit next to Linney, which left the final member of the crew.

Falcon clapped the stranger’s shoulder. “Ziv Batkin. One of the best hackers in the world.”

I eyed the man, wondering what crime he’d committed to land him a job in law enforcement. Because if he was truly a world-class hacker, he certainly hadn’t gone to work with them voluntarily.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand and offering him a smile too. Everyone knew it was easier to catch bees with honey, and I’d never shied away from using my charm to win people over.

Ziv narrowed his eyes at me. “Mpfh. We’ll see,” he said before joining Linney and Mouse in the grouping of four captain’s chairs across the aisle from me.

I lifted my eyebrows at Falcon. “Seems like a motley crew you have there.”

“They’re the best,” he snapped.

“Easy, killer. Clearly they’re the best if they caught the elusive Le Chaton in…” I sat back in my chair looked at my nonexistent wristwatch. “Five years, was it?”

Falcon grunted and dropped back into the seat he’d been in on the long flight from California. The one directly across from mine.

I stood up again as soon as he settled in. “Mind if I disembark to stretch my legs a bit? It’s a long flight to Athens.”

“Yes, I mind. We’re leaving any minute, and I’m not taking any chances of you bolting again. Sit your ass down.”

My eyes flew to Falcon’s face. My, my. I kind of liked bossy, angry special agent man. I wondered what he’d do if I teased him a little.

“What’re you going to do if I run off again, Dirk?” I asked, emphasizing his first name in a low purr only he could hear over the sound of the plane’s systems ramping up. “Spank me?” I leaned down and whispered that last part in his ear, assuming the buttoned-up FBI agent would have a healthy dash of homophobia.

“Not like you don’t deserve it,” he countered just as quietly. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

My stomach tightened at the implication. Holy fuck. If Agent Falcon was into men, I was into a heapload of trouble. I had a history of letting my dick steer me way wrong in this business, and the senior agent was exactly my type—older and bossy with a nice healthy dash of gruff and sexy mixed in.

I played a mental game with myself to keep my skin from flushing with heat. After trying to get the other agents wrong-footed with my own charm, it wouldn’t do to be thrown off by Falcon’s innuendo. I was better than this. I could control myself.