“Slash hears my proposition.” To ensure she didn’t bolt, he clasped her hand.
The second they connected, that last puzzle piece clicked into place. She’d been his missing link, the one thing he desperately needed, but didn’t know it. Probably because he’d been too busy hating on her.
Karen eyed their clasped hands. “Don’t you two look cozy.”
“Hardly,” Slash said, tugging her hand away.
“It’smyclub, so Mr. Amos and I will talk privately,” Karen said. “If I like what I hear?—”
“You’ll love it.” Carrera smiled at her, and Karen’s cheeks pinked with color. “And Slash stays.”
Slash, on the other hand, looked non-plussed. He wanted to makehercheeks flush,notKaren’s. Karen narrowed her gaze at Slash before continuing to her office.
Karen held open the door for him. “Have a seat, Mr. Amos.”
Carrera gestured for Slash to sit in one of the guest chairs across from her desk. When she walked past him, he breathed in her fragrant scent, and a whoosh of memories flooded his mind.
Karen sat at her desk, cleared her throat, and fixed her gaze on him.
“I’m interested in becoming a VIP member,” Carrera said.
“Wonderful,” Karen exclaimed.
“But I’m not paying the five thousand.”
Karen harrumphed. “I’m sorry, but?—
“I’m offering you twenty for free use of Slash.”
“Ohmygod,” Slash murmured.
Karen blurted, “Twenty? Twentywhat?”
Slash
Oh.My. God. What is happening?
“Thousand,” Slash bit out. “He’s offering you twenty grand for me.”
“Holy crap,” Karen whispered.
Carrera raked his hand through his hair. “Half for you, half for Slash.”
“She gets five, the club keeps fifteen,” Karen explained.
It was rare that something shocked Slash.
She wanted to congratulate Carrera for going too damn far. From what she knew about his career as an undercover agent, heliked to push the envelope. But this? This was insane. Over-the-top crazy.
“Fifty-fifty or I walk,” Carrera pushed back.
The confidence rolling off him was a total turn-on. Aphrodisiac overload. He commanded the space with his energy, the power in his eyes had her hanging on his every word. As if he had nothing but time, he stroked his beard with his index finger and his thumb, running his long digits over his whiskered face.
He shifted his focus to her and the air got sucked from her lungs. This was not the teenager she knew from yesteryear. This was a man brimming with a heady mix of determination and composure. The magnetic energy that passed between them had her biting back a moan.
Stop staring at him.
She could not.
