Challenge accepted, amore mio.
I shove the table to the side and lunge forward, grabbing her chair legs around the outside of her calves. She squeals as I drag the furniture toward me, not stopping the progression until our knees bump.
“Holy hell.” She clasps a hand to her throat while the other clings to the armrest, her eyes wide as she glances to the couple seated nearby who watch our exchange with interest. “You’re making a scene.”
I nudge my knee between hers, the material of her dress slipping farther apart to expose more of her legs, bare inches away from what I assume is tempting designer underwear.
I want to taste what’s hidden beneath. To devour and sate us both. Even if what she’s hiding is poison.
“Okay. I get it.” She keeps frantically glancing at the nearby couple. “You can stop the performance now.”
“Look at me.” I splay my hands on her thighs, trailing my calloused palms higher and higher. “Don’t worry about who’s watching.”
She squares her shoulders, gaining composure, but I can tell she’s a skittish lamb. Hungry wolves can sense that type of thing and I’m goddamn starving.
“Look at me,” I repeat, squeezing my fingers.
Slowly, she complies, her wild eyes meeting mine as she hisses, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Showing you the difference between conversation and seduction.” I want to know which brother broke her—Salvatore or Remy. Then I want to crush every memory she holds of the son of a bitch. “Aren’t you having fun?”
Her lips part, and I swear she’s about to give an adamant denial until she snaps her mouth shut.
She wants me.
Wants this.
I could almost laugh at the absurdity. The serendipity. Who would’ve thought I’d find someone else at the same restaurant, spying on the same motherfuckers, on the very same night I was? Twice.
“You can’t deny you’re attracted to me.” I lean closer, inhaling her sweet perfume. Jasmine and vanilla. “And there’s no way I can do the same.”
I slide my hand beneath her covered thigh.
She sucks in a breath. “We’re in the middle of a bar filled with people. Do you have no shame?”
“Do you have no sense of adventure?” I counter with a grin. “Surely a woman of your beauty has done far more scandalous things than be admired in public.”
The way she stiffens is a clear indicator she hasn’t. Fuck. She isn’t used to being wanted. Craved.
“This isn’t admiration.” She clears her throat, her shoulders remaining stiff. “This is a man attempting to get information.”
“Can’t it be both?”
For a second, she holds my gaze, tense and unyielding. I don’t breathe. Don’t move. It isn’t until she huffs a derisive laugh, her mouth yet again forming that fucking tempting smile, that my pulse kicks back in again.
“Matthew, I apologize for misleading you, but I have no information to give. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
I don’t believe her, and right now, I don’t care. She’s pretty when she lies. Pretty, tempting, and an increasingly more enjoyable challenge.
“Follow me to my room and let me show you a glimpse of your worth.” I rub my thumbs in circles, trailing my touch higher along her inner thighs. “Let me treat you the way you deserve.”
Her tongue snakes out to moisten her lower lip, her dazed eyes fixated on mine.
She’s going to succumb.
Any second now, she’ll announce her submission and let me claim victory.
“No, thank you.” She blinks away the bewildered look and violently snaps her knees shut. “We’re done here.” She shoves back in her seat and stands, forcing my hands to fall into thin air. “Follow me and I call the cops.”
With a snatch of her belongings from the table and a flick of her dark hair, she storms for the entry, passing Bishop at the bar who slides from his stool to stalk toward me.
“We’re letting her go?” He glowers over his shoulder, watching her stride through the reception area, his focus predatory.
I should leave her alone. No matter what her connection is to the Costa family, she’s nothing but a pawn in a vicious game. But I’m too fascinated to end this here. Too fucking intrigued. I have to learn her secrets.
“Follow her.” I casually clap him on the back, downplaying the adrenaline-filled interest coursing through my veins. “I want her name and any other information you can dig up before sunrise. Don’t let me down.”
7
Matthew
The fucker let me down.
Bishop allowed the woman to slip through his fingers.
He didn’t get her name. Or her number. He didn’t even catch the direction she went in because apparently she disappeared into thin air. Now all I have are lingering memories of ocean-blue eyes and hair dark as night to go with the semi hard-on I’ve had since our chance encounter.
I return to D.C. the following morning, unable to get her out of my head. I keep replaying our conversation on a loop, telling myself I need to search for hidden clues to her agenda only I get caught up on other things. Like the way her sass increased my pulse, or the ingenuity that made me determined to get to know her, or those damn inviting rebuffs to my advances that made this more about winning her over than gaining information.
I want to know what she’s up to. And I want to know why. But most of all, I want to know how long it will take to get her beneath me. On top of me.
When evening comes, I make my way to my latest club acquisition to check on the staff who don’t seem to appreciate the way their new boss runs things.
They’re scared of me, too, which doesn’t help.
The dark crevices of my reputation aren’t well-known around here, but someone must’ve broken the silence.
“I’ve stocked all the bars.” A short-skirted, slim-waisted, cleavage-bearing waitress stops beside me, her hopeful smile doused in deep red lipstick as she eyes the dancing crowd before us. “And noted all the liquor levels like you asked.”
She’s a brown-noser. There’s always one. Even in a crowd of staff filled with animosity over my overbearing ways. They’re the reason this club had been run into the ground. Them and the previous owner, who was too busy living the highlife in the Caribbean. But their failings are my gain.
I’ll flip this club within a year and make a mint, all because they’d plummeted its value to begin with, allowing me to buy it for pennies.
“Your hard work is appreciated.” I raise my voice above the loud music. “Are any of the staff continuing to have problems with the way I do things?”
Her wide blue eyes glance away and she shrugs. “Not really.”
“Tell me who?”
She nibbles her lower lip. “Maybe Reece. I think because he managed this place for so long before you took over the transition is harder for him.”
Then I guess Bishop and I need to have a chat with Reece.
“Thanks for the information.” I walk away, skirting the dancing crowd three steps below, the thoughts of my Denver woman assailing me as soon as I’m left alone.
I haven’t been able to concentrate since our chance encounter. Can’t think straight, either.