The Spy

Zara surprised him, but John remained stoic as he sensed no danger. He thought of how to approach things, but John did not like playing games.

"Zara," he began in a calm tone, his expression betraying his emotions, "are you a spy?"

"No," she said immediately and continued, "why do you ask?"

John's eyes narrowed, "you realise how suspiciously rehearsed that sounds?"

"Well, I'm not lying. Why would I want to spy on you, John? There are much better candidates to choose from."

John ignored her sarcastic remark and replied, "that's not gonna cut it, sweetheart."

Zara's expression darkened, and she narrowed her eyes and took a step closer, until she was standing mere inches away from him, the heat of her breath brushing against his chin as her breasts pressed against his chest.

"Then, tell me what I have to do to gain your trust."

He gazed into her grey, almond shaped eyes and spoke up, "there's only one way. Find the real spy."