She felt sick. She bunched her fingers in Trap’s shirt with one hand and shoved her fingers into his back pocket with the other.

“You’re trembling, baby,” he said softly. “We’re not going into battle.”

“People are staring at us,” she pointed out.

“You’ll get used to it, Cayenne,” he said, his stride even. He didn’t look down at her, but he kept his arm tight around her, sheltering her with his body as much as possible.

“Why do we need your friends with us?” she asked.

“We’ve both got enemies,” he said tersely.

She flinched at his tone. Ducked her head. Clearly he didn’t want to talk. She hadn’t wanted to come, and now he seemed a completely different man, his face an expressionless mask and his answers to any questions abrupt to the point of rudeness.

She sighed. “We don’t have to do this, Trap. Really. I don’t mind the shoes.” She was wearing a pair of Wyatt’s sister-in-law’s jeans. She had to roll them up and they were a little snug through the hips and very loose around her waist. The top was pretty but again, tight across her breasts and too long for her. She didn’t care what she was wearing, but walking even the short distance from the car to the shop she observed other women and they certainly were put together a lot better than she was.

“We have to do this.” His eyes didn’t meet hers, but instead, scanned the buildings and the rooftops above them.

Cayenne realized that he had her body tucked close to his in order to hide her face from a man across from them who had a camera. He was shielding her. Shielding her. From a camera. She also knew he hadn’t brought Gino and Draden and any other members of the team to New Orleans because of a camera. That meant he was expecting trouble. She was not the type of woman to cower from danger. She might not like going out in public because she didn’t like making mistakes and she hadn’t had the time to study others around her to see what they did, but she refused to have Trap shoulder the danger.

She straightened her shoulders, composed her face and let go of the death grip she had on his shirt. If they needed Gino and Draden with them, it was probably for a reason. She inhaled sharply. She didn’t have the best vision, that was true, but she had a really good sense of smell. The air brought information to the tiny, microscopic hairs on her body, and her brain processed data quickly.

There were several people on the street in spite of the fact that it was closing in on four thirty. She realized that Trap had timed their shopping spree for the end of the shopping hours in order to make certain the sun would begin to go down by the time they finished. She recognized more than Draden’s and Gino’s scents. Malichai was close with his brother Mordichai, and if she wasn’t mistaken, Ezekiel was on a roof across from them, probably with a sniper rifle. Trap was definitely expecting trouble.

“Tell me,” she murmured. “And don’t bother with explaining that you’re the man and I’m the woman. I want to know what you think we’re going to run into.”

His eyes, glacier cold, shifted to her face. His arm tightened around her body, clamping her to his side, and one big hand cupped her face, pressing her head into him. He never missed a stride. Then his eyes were gone and he continued walking toward the row of shops.

You know better than to fuck up a team mission. You may have been trained as an assassin working alone, but Whitney would never neglect your training to that extent.

I had no idea you were running a mission, Cayenne pointed out. Because you didn’t mention it. I thought we were going to shop for shoes.

He kept his hand on the side of her head, pressing her face into his side. You don’t face that camera. You know it’s there, don’t pretend you haven’t seen it.

You’re worried about a camera?

Among other things. Just keep walking and acting like we’re out on a date. We’re going shopping for shoes.

She was silent. His voice was brusque, almost to the point of rudeness. There was no emotion. No soft whisper of “baby,” no connection of any kind. Trap had shut down emotionally. She couldn’t decide between hurt and anger at him. Since hurt was an alien emotion and one she didn’t know what to do with, she settled for anger.

I may know better than to fuck up a team mission, but unless I’m told there is a mission, I can’t possibly know that’s what I’m doing by asking for information. And just so you know, I’m not hiding from cameras. If they get a picture of me, what’s the difference? Whitney knows where I am. You wouldn’t have brought an entire team in to prevent somebody from taking my picture. The termination order is still out on me. That’s why the team is in place, not for some man with a camera who is not military.

Nice to know you have a brain. Try looking up at me and smiling.

Cayenne resisted the urge to just stop right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Try looking down at me and smiling. You keep this up and I’ll be sinking my teeth into your side and you’ll go down like a ton of bricks.

She was looking up at his face, and his lips twitched – the beginnings of a smile – but he got it under control and kept moving both of them until they were at the door of a shoe shop, Gino and Draden closing in behind them. Close. So close she could feel them almost against their backs. They didn’t brush up against her, but still, she didn’t like their close proximity. She felt trapped. Icy fingers slid down her spine and she felt the venom rising in reaction.

Trap opened the door to the boutique, took her through, and the instant they were inside, she felt the coiled tension in him ease. Stay away from the windows. Keep to the interior of the shop.

At last. Trap wanted to let out his breath and all but pushed Cayenne into the store. This was supposed to be his surprise for her. Shopping. Teaching her the thing women seemed to love. He’d wanted to give her that gift. Instead, he was giving her fucking hell. He’d planned to take two bodyguards, Gino and Draden – not for him – but for Cayenne. He knew there was a possibility of an enemy waiting for them. He’d known there was a possibility of a photographer as well. It wasn’t as though the leeches didn’t ferret out his whereabouts every moment of the day. Still, he thought he could control the situation enough to give his woman a great experience.

Ezekiel had insisted he go into town ahead of them and do recon. He had been assisting Cayenne into the vehicle when word came that a full assassination team seemed to be waiting in town for her to show.