Am I good or what? Told you I did my research. Cover, ironclad.
“That’s very adventurous of you,” Baz acknowledges.
“Do I not look like the adventurous type?” I bat my eyelashes innocently, laying it on real thick.
Baz sizes me up. I like that name so much better than Benjamin. It sounds like a guy who knows how to fuck. Who knows what he wants and doesn’t hesitate to go after it.
Baz leans in closer. “I think a woman who looks as sweet as you and drinks Jack has secrets to tell.”
I wonder how many shades of pink my cheeks turn from our proximity and his highly attuned instincts about people. I wonder if he can see right through me. If my ruse isn’t a ruse at all. The bartender drops my salad in front of me, and I suddenly feel claustrophobic.
“Excuse me, can I get this to go?” I push the plate away. I’ve lost my appetite.
Both the bartender and Baz share the same bewildered expression.
“Everything okay, sweetie?”
“Fine.” I feign a smile and suck down my drink. “It’s just time for me to leave.”
“Did I say something to upset you?” Baz grips the fur of my hood lightly as I try to slip my coat on.
“No. I just . . . It’s getting late.”
“Don’t go.” He sounds a little alarmed. “Stay. I’ll buy you another drink, and you don’t even have to sleep with me.” His smile is sexy as he jokes, and all I can think is . . .oh, shit.
My head, my heart, and my body suddenly go to war. My head telling me to get the hell out of here and execute my mission. My body telling me to stay so I end up in his bed. But my heart, my heart is the biggest surprise of all. It’s telling me he’s more than just a job. He’s a man. A man I’m wildly attracted to and intrigued by. A deadly combination for a woman in my position and my profession.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I shouldn’t, but I want to. I want to stay. With him.
I hesitate for what feels like an eternity.
“We can play some pool,” Baz offers in the most innocent way. In a way that tells me all he wants is some company. Some simple human interaction. And I secretly wonder if he’s as lonely as I am.
“Do you care if you get your ass kicked by a woman?” I cave, like a damn idiot.
“If you’re the woman, I have no issues.” He slides off his chair. Standing at his full height, I realize just how big and tall he is. Strapping is how I’d describe him. The mountain man look never really appealed to me before, but it’s starting to suddenly grow on me.
And the way his dark-blue flannel shirt hugs and stretches over the crests and ridges of his arms, chest, and shoulders—I have to cross my legs just so I don’t come right where I sit.
If tonight is a test of my willpower and restraint, it’s the fucking SATs, because I want this man. I want him more than I have ever wanted a member of the opposite sex. It’s like he’s the magnet and I’m the steel. I want him right here, right now, going at it like two animals on the pool table, and I wouldn’t give a shit who’s watching.
My heart is pounding and my skin is fevered as I watch him rack the balls. Spending a few more moments than normal to make sure they’re straight. I shouldn’t feel so uncontrollably tempted by this man. It isn’t natural. Not for me.
I shouldn’t feel anything at all. I should be numb.
Because no matter what, I was sent here to end his life.
And no matter what, I will.
“You want to break?” Baz offers me a pool stick.
I need to pull it together. “You can. Let’s see what you got.” I have to keep it light, keep it fun, even though it feels like I’m sinking.
“Suit yourself. I’m going to lose anyway.” He grins up at me as he leans over the table. Damn his boyish charm. And mischievous eyes and devilish mouth.
God, that mouth . . .
