I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery)

have some generous friends.”
    He was still staring at me and I raised a proud eyebrow.
    “Had your eyeful?”
    “No.” He shook his head. “You scrub up well.”
    “Thanks.” Then, feeling something else was needed, “You too.”
    “Are you wearing the wire?”
    “Subtle, Luke, really subtle. Yes, I am. Give me a sec, I’ll go and switch it on.”
    I made my way to the ladies, which was as terrifying and grand as the rest of the ballroom, and shut myself in the cubicle to switch the wire on.
    “Can you hear me?” I whispered to Alexa.
    “Loud and clear. Good luck!”
    I had a feeling I was going to need it. Luke was looking at me like I was dessert.
    He was waiting for me when we came out. “Have you seen Wright yet?”
    It was weird, I could hear him right down in my ear as well as in regular surround. I checked the grommet. “I’ve only just got here!”
    “You should be looking out.” He put a hand to the small of my back to lead me into the ballroom. His hand was warm and my skin was bare. I had to concentrate on breathing.
    This is business, this is business, this is business.
    This is acting .
    “You can dance, right?” he said.
    “Well, sort of.”
    “Can you manage a waltz?”
    I nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak too much. It wasn’t just the wire. Luke looked really good in evening dress. His hair was a good deal lighter than the brown I was used to—in fact it was almost blond. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with myself when I walked in I might have noticed that. His eyes were their natural blue… I think.
    “What?” Luke said when I peered at him.
    “Are you wearing contacts?”
    “No. This is me.”
    Jesus. He was tall, blond, blue-eyed and built.
    This is business, this is business, this is business.
    God, he’s hot .
    “We’ll do a quick circuit,” Luke said. “Keep your eyes open.”
    I did, but I’m afraid I wasn’t looking at what I was supposed to be looking at. Luke’s eyes were all over the room, constantly searching for Wright, but my eyes were on him. It felt so wonderful to be dancing in his arms.
    I wanted to touch his cheekbones. I wanted to stroke them. Was that weird?
    “Okay, I see him,” Luke said. “One o’clock.”
    Which wasn’t very helpful as we kept waltzing round in circles.
    “Where?”
    I wanted to lick his cheekbones. Someone help me.
    “Over by the windows. He’s alone.” Luke let go of me and I stumbled slightly. “Go.”
    “Go?”
    “Flirt with him. Draw him out.”
    I gave Luke an incredulous look but he was already gone.
    Flirt with him. Flirt with a chubby, balding fifty-year-old who’d asked me to scrub his back in a Roman hotel room?
    Bleurgh.
    I was halfway across the room when I walked into someone and I was shaking so much I recoiled and nearly fell over.
    “Careful! Are you okay?”
    I looked up at the man who had caught me. Dashing and handsome, clean-cut, shiny hair… Oh, shit, it was Harvey!
    “What are you doing here?” I asked him at the same time he asked me, and we stared at each other.
    “I have a business invite,” Harvey said eventually.
    “Right, your mobile company.”
    He frowned, looking distracted. “Mobile?”
    Jesus, his company was in trouble if he didn’t know what we called a cell phone. “Yeah, mobile—cell phones,” I said, trying to see past him to Wright. But he was all shoulder, Harvey was, all shoulder and jaw. It was like trying to see past a huge wall.
    “Are you here alone? I didn’t know stewardesses moved in such grand circles.”
    “No, I, er, I’m here with my, erm, my brother.”
    “The guy you were dancing with?”
    “Uh, yes. He’s, er, he’s quite grand. Knows Madonna. Small country and all that. My brother.”
    “Yeah, you look like him,” Harvey was nodding.
    I stopped and stared. “I do?”
    “Yeah. Except your hair is different…” He peered at me. “Did you change it?”
    No, my hair routinely changes from blonde to dark brown overnight. Men. “Yeah,” I said. “Fancied a change.”
    “It looks good. So.”
    I looked up nervously, suddenly remembering that I’d walked out on him in Rome. “So?”
    “Where did you go? I came out and you were gone.”
    “Oh, I, er, I had an early flight, so I had to go. Sorry about that.”
    “You didn’t even leave a phone number.”
    Fancy that.
    “I’m sorry,” I said, “but I really, really have to go. To the, erm, ladies.” I picked up my skirts and ran away, and because Harvey was