Under His Cover

CHAPTER 4: THE ONE-BED RULE

The heavy oak doors of the guest suite clicked shut, sealing out the grand marble hallway of Silas’s villa.
The room was massive and dripping with luxury. High ceilings, sweeping silk curtains, a private terrace looking out over the dark ocean, and a white marble bathroom that looked larger than most city apartments.
And right in the center of the room sat a single, sprawling king-sized bed.
Evangeline stood in the doorway, her eyes locking onto the solitary bed like it was a live bomb. She didn't move. She didn't even drop her overnight bag.
Alexander stepped past her, setting his leather duffel onto a low bench near the closet. He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders back as his electric blue eyes took in the room. When his gaze landed on the bed, a slow, insufferable smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Well," Alexander drawled softly, tossing his coat over a chair. "The room service is certainly top-tier."
Evangeline closed the distance between them in three silent strides, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the center of the room.
"Do not say a word," she whispered, her golden-hazel eyes burning with warning.
She reached into her small clutch purse, pulling out a sleek, pen-sized scanner. Without waiting for him to reply, she clicked the top button. A tiny blue beam swept across the air, silently reading frequency signals in the suite.
Alexander stopped smirking. His operational instincts took over in a fraction of a second. He nodded once, understanding her instantly.
They moved together without speaking, performing a silent sweep of the room. Evangeline checked the bedside lamps, the back of the heavy television frame, and the air vents near the ceiling. Alexander checked the smoke detector, the baseboards, and the carved wooden headboard above the bed.
Two minutes later, the scanner vibrated softly in Evangeline’s palm.
Two little red dots lit up on her small screen. One hidden inside the digital clock on the nightstand, and another buried in the base of the bedside lamp.
Audio bugs. High-frequency, live-feed listening devices.
Evangeline met Alexander’s eyes across the dark room. Silas wasn't just watching their entrance at the gate; his security team was actively listening to every breath they took inside the room.
She slipped the scanner back into her purse and turned around, completely changing her posture. Her shoulders dropped, her sharp glare melting into a soft, tired expression.
"I am completely exhausted, darling," Evangeline said out loud, her voice smooth, sweet, and perfectly clear for the microphones. "The flight was so long."
Alexander picked up the cue instantly. He walked over to her, his movements fluid as he reached out to wrap a loose arm around her waist, pulling her softly against his chest.
"I know, sweetheart," Alexander replied, his low voice carrying a quiet warmth that sounded terrifyingly genuine. "Why don't you get unready? I'll pour us some water."
"You are sweet," she murmured, giving his chest a playful little pat before turning toward the bathroom.
The moment she crossed the marble threshold and closed the heavy bathroom door behind her, she let out a long, quiet breath. She turned on the sink faucet, letting the sound of running water cover her movements.
Evangeline leaned against the edge of the sink, staring at her reflection in the grand mirror. Her cheeks felt warm. She hated how easily Alexander slipped into the role, and she hated even more how natural his hands felt on her waist.
It’s just a job, she reminded herself, splashing cold water onto her face. Focus on the server key.
Ten minutes later, Evangeline walked back out into the bedroom. She had changed into a simple silk sleep set—a loose black camisole and matching shorts. Her long blonde hair fell over her shoulders in soft, wet waves.
Alexander was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing black lounge pants and a dark t-shirt. His black hair was messy, falling over his forehead, and he was staring down at his encrypted watch.
When the bathroom door opened, his eyes traveled up.
He froze for a fraction of a second, his grey-blue eyes sweeping down her frame. The teasing look in his eyes vanished, replaced by a dark, intense focus that made her skin tingle.
Evangeline walked up to the side of the bed, crossing her arms over her chest to shield herself from his gaze.
"We have a problem," she whispered, her voice barely a breath against the sound of the ocean waves outside the balcony.
Alexander looked up at her face, his eyes locking onto her golden gaze. "Which problem?"
"The bed," she breathed, gesturing down with her chin. "I am not sleeping next to you."
"Eva," Alexander whispered back, his voice dropping an octave, raspy and low. He leaned in closer so his words wouldn't carry toward the lamps. "There are two live mics in this room. If one of us sleeps on the couch, or if we don't sound like a couple sharing a bed, Viktor will know something is wrong by morning."
"I can sleep on the floor," she insisted, her jaw setting tight.
"And when the maid comes in at seven in the morning to drop off extra towels and sees extra pillows on the carpet?" Alexander raised a dark eyebrow. "You want to explain to Silas why newlyweds are sleeping six feet apart?"
Evangeline bit the inside of her cheek. He was right. In a high-stakes undercover op, consistency was everything. Silas’s team would look for any tiny crack in their story.
"Fine," she hissed through her teeth. "Your side, my side. You cross the middle line, and I will snap your nose."
"Charming as always, wife," Alexander murmured, a faint grin returning to his lips.
He slid under the heavy white duvet, pulling it up to his chest and leaning back against the plush pillows on the left side of the mattress.
Evangeline took a slow breath, turned off the main light switch near the wall, and climbed into the right side of the bed.
The room plunged into soft, blue moonlight.
The mattress was massive, but with Alexander sitting just two feet away, it felt tiny. The space between them seemed to radiate pure heat. She could hear his steady breathing, smell the rain-and-wood scent clinging to his skin, and feel the faint shift of the mattress every time he moved.
Evangeline lay on her back, staring up at the dark ceiling, her body completely rigid.
Five minutes passed in pure silence.
Then, the soft audio bug in the lamp let out a microscopic, high-pitched static hum. It was subtle, but to two trained operatives, it was as loud as a whistle.
Silas’s security team was tuning into the live audio feed right now.
Alexander shifted beside her. Before Evangeline could react, his large hand reached out in the dark, closing around her waist.
"Vance—" she started to whisper furiously.
He didn't pull back. Instead, he pulled her sideways.
Evangeline’s back bumped straight against his broad chest. His arm wrapped securely around her waist, tucking her back flush against his body. He pulled the heavy duvet over both of them, burying his face into the side of her neck, right below her ear.
His warm breath tickled her skin, sending a sudden, electric shiver straight down her spine.
"Play along," Alexander whispered into her skin, his voice so soft it was barely sound. "They're listening."
Evangeline’s heart started thumping wildly against her ribs. Her hands went to his forearm over her stomach, intending to push him away, but his grip was solid as rock.
"Alec," she murmured out loud, letting her voice sound soft and sleepy for the microphones hidden in the dark. "What are you doing?"
"Holding my wife," Alexander replied out loud, his voice deep, gravelly, and entirely believable. He tightened his hold slightly, resting his chin comfortably against her shoulder. "Go to sleep, Eva. We have a long day tomorrow."
Evangeline lay completely still in his arms, her golden eyes wide in the dark room. She could feel every line of his body pressed against hers—the firm line of his chest, the solid strength of his arm, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing against her back.
She wanted to hit him. She wanted to shove him off the bed and throw the lamp at his head.
But as the minutes ticked by and the quiet ocean rain washed over the balcony outside, the steady heat of his body began to push away the cold edge of her anxiety.
Evangeline closed her eyes, letting out a quiet, defeated breath.
"Goodnight, Alec," she murmured softly into the dark.
Alexander didn't answer with words. He just pressed his lips lightly against the top of her shoulder, holding her close as the night settled over Monaco.
The mission had barely started, but the line between fake and real was already starting to blur.