No Strings Attached: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eight by Julie Moffett

shift change during the day is pretty unusual. I discovered the agents who had been watching you had to be relieved so they could change out of their wet and smoky clothes.”
    “Total accident.” I lifted my hands. “I swear.”
    “The fault of a champagne cork, or so I hear.”
    “Unfortunate aim. I should have used a towel.”
    “And the ambulance?”
    “Not my fault. If the overzealous FBI agent hadn’t tackled me while I was holding a slippery champagne bottle, the bridal assistant would have been fine. Thankfully, she only had a mild concussion when the bottle squirted out of my wet hands and onto her head. The medics said she’d make a full recovery. The room, the mirrors and the dresses, however, were a complete loss. Luckily for Basia—not me—the bridal assistant said we could come back and try on dresses again after the insurance adjuster and cleaners finished fixing up the place.”
    A laugh rumbled from his chest and he pulled me to him again. “Did you know they’re actually considering adding trainees to your detail, so young agents can understand the concept of needing to be prepared for all contingencies?”
    I twisted my damp ponytail around my finger. “That’s really not fair. You have no freaking idea how stressful this maid of honor thing is. Do you have any idea what is involved in trying on a wedding dress? I had to toast a dress! Apparently this is just the start. Weddings are nightmares. I honestly found myself wishing the assassin would show up and put me out of my misery.”
    He trailed his fingers across my cheek, pausing at one of the diamond earrings he’d given me for Christmas. “I’m sorry things didn’t go as planned at the fitting, but I’m confident it will all work out. Despite the trials, you seem to endure with ever-increasing frequency. Luck favors you.”
    I stiffened.
    Slash pulled back. “What’s wrong?”
    I took a moment to compose myself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to have that reaction. Your words just triggered a memory.”
    “What memory?”
    I didn’t want to say it, but I didn’t want to keep sweeping it under the rug either. “Quon. He said the same thing to me when...well, when he was asking questions about you.”
    Just hearing Quon’s name changed Slash’s mood instantly. He stepped away from me, a dark expression covering his face. Quon had said that phrase to me shortly before he’d started torturing me for information about Slash. That session was still a touchy subject with us. I hadn’t talked much about it because I knew Slash would freak out. Slash hesitated to ask because he worried about upsetting me. I hadn’t meant to bring it up, but it had caused a reaction I didn’t want to lie about.
    I reached out and took his hand. “I’m sorry, Slash. I didn’t mean to upset you. It just jogged my memory. I don’t want to suppress those memories because then they stay buried and it hurts worse. Okay?”
    “You don’t upset me. He does.” Slash closed his eyes. “He hurt you.”
    “Yes, he did. But you didn’t kill him, and you could have.”
    Slash cupped my face and looked into my eyes. “Don’t think I’m a good guy for that. Do you want to know why I didn’t kill him? Because I knew he’d endure much more pain and suffering if I kept him alive. That’s the only reason he’s still alive.”
    I’m not sure I’d ever seen him this angry, as if the violence within him was barely restrained.
    He seemed to sense my unease and his expression softened. He kissed my cheek. “Anyway, I do have some good news for you.”
    Just like that the darkness vanished and I saw the warm, kind eyes of the man I loved.
    “You do?”
    “I do. We got a hit on the woman from the facial recognition software.

Chapter Seventeen
    “That’s great news, Slash. Who is she?”
    “Her name is Feng Mei. She came to the US three years ago on a special work visa. Guess who she’s working for?”
    I thought back to what I knew about the Chinese,