A Ball, a Redhead and a Green Dress

Dante looked once again at his pocket watch. She is late, he thought in annoyance as he put it back in his black suit. They were on a mission, and she was late. Deep down, he couldn't help but worry a little bit, because Elara was never late unless she had a very good reason. He had no other choice but to think of the night he had to go through with her, of the impending jealousy already setting in his bones as he waited in the main entrance of the Victorian mansion. The beauty of it would have moved him in other circumstances, but he couldn't shake the pure anticipation that overtook his every sensation. His jaw flexed, then relaxed as he imagined Elara in the arms of the horrendous man she had to steal classified information from. It's her job, he reminded himself, and yet, Dante could not find relief in this statement.

Just as he was about to check his pocket watch again, he heard the wide wooden doors open as the last guest of the soirée came through. The second he saw her, his breath caught in his chest. Elara was breathtaking, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her emerald silk dress fell over her form like a veil, flowing around her curves perfectly. The slit showed the silhouette of her long leg, going up her thigh. Her long auburn hair was held behind her head in an intricate, low bun as loose strands curved around her face. The valet helped her out of her black shawl, and she made her way toward Dante. The golden necklace she adorned caught his eye as it shimmered in the chandelier light. He took a deep breath in, composing himself. He was on a mission.

- Good evening, Elara, he said in a low, deep voice.

- Good evening, Dante, she answered, and she offered a smile. You look handsome tonight.

Heat rushed its way to his neck as lust settled in him. His name rolled so gracefully out of her mouth, like it was meant to be said by her. He could never get enough of it.

- You look dazzling, yourself, he offered his arm for her take.

Her hand curled around his bicep, and he looked deep in her eyes. The green of them shone brightly as she returned his gaze.

- Ready? He asked.

- Almost, I need a drink.

He and Elara had been partners in crime for three years, and it was always the same with this type of mission. She never liked pretending like she enjoyed the company of the men she had to seduce, he knew she preferred the ones that required her intellectual and physical skills rather than her acting skills. She had to prepare for the worst, and the nerves were so overwhelming that she always needed a drink beforehand. Since he was her safety net in case something went wrong, Dante preferred to stay sober and completely alert.

He led her down the stairs to the ball room and snatched a champagne glass from one of the wandering valets, handing it to her gloved hand. She drank her first sip, then took a deep breath as she looked past his shoulder. She unlocked her femme fatale gaze, and she stared intensely behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know that Elara had targeted her victim. The game had started.

She lifted her glass to her lips, smiled seductively and took a slow sip, lifting her chin enough to reveal the delicate skin of her neck in a tentative manner. Not too little, but not too much. Just enough to tease. This move was familiar to Dante, he was fascinated by the calculated balance she mastered. Elara was a walking weapon, but her victims did not need to know that. She turned back her attention to Dante.

- Target incoming, she murmured.

She tapped a spot behind her ear to activate their communication gadget, small, round and the color of their skin for a most effective camouflage. He did the same, his brows furrowed, and he nodded almost imperceptibly, but he knew she caught it. He walked a few meters away. They were both ready.