Текст книги "Veiled Target"

Автор книги: Robin Bielman

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 Veiled Target
Veilers – 1
Robin Bielman

Dedication

To my husband, for being my biggest fan and supporter, and for always knowing the perfect things to say. I love you, honey!

A few special thanks to my awesome editor, Holly Atkinson, the great team at Samhain and to wonderful friends Marilyn Brant, Caryn Caldwell and Jennifer Haymore, who each helped me along the way.

Chapter One

Tess Damon had no intention of telling the man holding the gun to her head what she was capable of. If he believed he had the upper hand, maybe she’d get out of this alive.

She silently fought the knots in her stomach and gripped the leather safety straps hanging in the open lift gate of the small, private business jet. As she struggled to keep her footing against the howling gale-force wind, shivers raced up and down her body. The frigid temperature stole precious air from her lungs. Her eyes watered and her ears ached. Pressure from the gun barrel hurt right in that tension headache spot above her eye.

Her first time flying in an aircraft that combined the comfort of a Cessna with the functionality of a sky-diving plane wasn’t exactly working in her favor.

“When we started this date, I’d no idea of your true intentions,” shouted the sharp-toothed businessman over the painful air currents. “You were wrong to think I’d be easy to get rid of.”

Tess let a practiced smile slip over her lips. She might be wrong about a lot of things, but eliminating the vampire who’d killed dozens of innocent people using weapons—with delay and torment—because he hated to get his fangs or hands dirty, wasn’t one of them.

So despite the nerves humming underneath her skin, she wouldn’t plead her case. Instead, she forced her heavy eyelids up and stared into the depths of night-fallen sky, grateful she’d planned ahead. As long as the pilot remained in the cockpit, it was just her and the vamp back here. This wasn’t over yet.

“I could say the same to you.”

“Taken to flying, have you?” His callous tone didn’t bother her. She’d jumped out of plenty of planes. Albeit with a parachute in place, but she pushed that worry aside.

She was an expert at pushing emotions aside.

“My talents are quite varied. It might benefit you to keep that in mind.” Despite her confident words, her body shook. She used every ounce of strength to keep her legs from buckling.

“I like a woman who’s sure of herself,” he hollered, his jet-black hair blowing off his pale face. “Perhaps you’d like to reconsider the job I offered yesterday and we can forget about this little indiscretion. I could use someone with your keen sense of deception.”

She swallowed the bitter taste in the back of her throat. “As nice an offer as that was, I’m afraid I’m not interested.”

“I see the job as your only chance for survival.”

Now he’d blown it. He could take those words and shove them up his well-dressed ass. Who the hell did he think he was? Sure, she shouldn’t be in this position, but the creep had slipped something into her cocktail. After a few sips, she’d figured it out and popped her own pill to counter the lethargic effects. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked quickly enough.

“Really?” she said, forcing the word out with slow determination. “Why on earth would you say such a thing?”

Laughter spewed from his mouth. “You forget who’s holding the gun.”

“How could I forget that? Why don’t you put it down so we can talk about this?” Her shoulders and arms burned as the muscles grew unresponsive. She couldn’t hold on much longer and really preferred he drop his arm before she dropped hers.

“As interested as I am to know who sent you to kill me, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” He jammed the gun against her temple, harder this time.

A sharp sting shot through her head. Tess knew the only reason she was still alive was because he wanted the name of whoever had ratted him out.

“Put the gun down. I promise I’ll talk.” Lies fell from her lips easier than truths.

“A question first: have you ever failed before?”

Well, crap. Who said he could bring up the F word? She tried to mask her discomfort and decided to sling her own uncomfortable question. “I never kiss and tell. But I’m wondering how your organization will feel when I tell them what you’ve been up to.”

Before he could answer, the plane jolted, a patch of turbulence giving her just the edge she needed to take over the situation. When their bodies bumped, she spun on her heels and flung every ounce of her one-hundred-and-twenty-pound frame against the vampire’s chest. The surprise contact sent them both backwards, away from the open door.

The gun fell out of the vampire’s hand and slid from Tess’s view. She took the opportunity to leap down the narrow aisle toward her seat. The elegant wood trim and cabinetry of the middle interior was a far cry from the skydiver’s launch pad behind her. As she searched for her belongings, the vampire’s cold hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged her toward the floor.

She twisted and, before falling, landed the heel of her other foot in his neck. He let go and she back-peddled out of his grasp.

“This is not how I anticipated the evening going.” He pierced her with his mineral-gray eyes.

“You and me both.” She caught her breath, taking the few seconds to compose herself. Then, reaching one arm behind her, she stretched her fingers in search of the bag she’d hooked underneath the seat. Bingo.

“Although, I must admit, I find this great sport. You’re a worthy adversary, and I’m sorry you won’t be around to continue the relationship.” His eyes darted to the handgun, now visible a few feet away.

Tess smirked. If he’d only acted like a real vampire, he wouldn’t be in this situation. “You’re wrong about that.”

In the next instant, she pulled a carved koa wood blade from her bag, jumped to her feet, and thrust the tip into the vampire’s chest. His eyes widened just before his body slumped to the floor.

Relief spread through her, slowing the rushed beats of her heart. She’d lost track of how many kills she’d made, but every one still felt like the first.

A moment later, the plane dipped, another jolt of agitated air reminding her she still had work to do. The vampire flying the plane also required elimination.

She walked down the narrow aisle toward the cockpit door. With a delicate hand, she tried the handle. It didn’t budge. Shit. The pilot probably expected the vampire to knock. Tess made a fist, but before her hand reached the door, a voice sounded over an intercom.

“You’re out of luck, bitch. I’m taking the plane down with you on the other side of that door.”

She felt the pilot’s eyes on her and let out a restless sigh. “Did I not prove anything to you back here?” she half-shouted. She looked around for a hidden camera while she hustled back to retrieve her purse.

“You proved my boss incompetent. I’m another story. And quite thirsty, should you manage to get up close and personal.”

Tess rolled her eyes. She pulled a small metal nail file from her bag and wiggled it inside the keyhole. She’d never been very good at picking locks. And with her fingers chilled to the bone, this one was even more difficult.

The plane started its descent and her ears plugged. Her stomach flip-flopped. Dammit. If she didn’t get suited up to jump now, she’d lose her window of opportunity. She didn’t know how many vamps waited on the ground for her, but guessed the odds weren’t in her favor.

She dressed quickly, ran down the aisle, and leaped out the open lift gate.

As her body hit the air, she whooped, releasing the uneasiness shredding her insides. The black sky swallowed her. Her shadow, cast by a full moon, kept her company and brought a smile to her face. The freefall rush lasted until the lights of civilization came into closer view, and she tugged on the chute.

She set foot back in the City of Angels—at least she thought it was somewhere in the city, her lucky ass having landed in a deserted industrial area surrounded by chain link fence—and winced. The reality of another botched job hit her with unwelcome force. Would Christian let her off as easy as he had the last time?

Gathering the parachute, she surveyed the abandoned area. She rid her body of the harness and goggles and threw the equipment into a nearby dumpster. The pebbled ground kicked up dust, and the stench of rotten eggs, combined with something fishy, invaded her nostrils as she headed toward the fence. Picking up her pace, she jumped over the barrier and took the deserted sidewalk in the direction of traffic noise and city lights.

Up ahead, cars whisked by. In this area of Los Angeles, she didn’t know the likelihood of finding a taxi, but she could always use her cell phone to call for pickup. Or walk.

And keep walking.

That way she wouldn’t have to deal with her boss.

Her decision was made for her when she rounded a street corner and found a long, white stretch limousine sitting curbside. She recognized the license plate, gulped and forced her shoulders back. How the hell? As much as she wanted to run in the opposite direction, she couldn’t. She reached the front end of the luxury vehicle as the back door opened.

She clutched her bag against her chest as if it were a shield, and ducked into the limousine. She took the seat for a backwards ride, gathered every ounce of her practiced charm and plastered a fake smile across her face. “Hey, boss. What brings you here?”

“You, unfortunately.” Christian brought a glass filled with gold liquid to his mouth and took a slow sip, all the while keeping his eyes trained on her. The movement of the limo did nothing to interrupt his smooth swallow.

“Me? You know I would have been in to see you first thing in the morning.” Maybe. Probably.

“Really? Considering your failure this evening, I’m not so sure.” The ice clinked in his glass as he lowered the tumbler to his lap.

The man never blinked. He just stared—winning the contest every time. Tess looked away. “How’d you find me?” And I didn’t fail entirely.

“I’ve been tracking you.”

“You’ve got me bugged?” Crap. What else did he know that she thought she’d kept hidden?

“After the fiasco last month, I thought you might need some backup.” His words stung. Deep. She did not need backup. Not now. Not ever.

As an eliminator for Private Investigations and Elimination, or P.I.E.—the clandestine government-sanctioned organization that investigated and removed dangerous non-humans, or Veilers—Tess always worked alone.

“I don’t need backup. The thing last month was a fluke. I’m the best eliminator you’ve got and you bug me?” She’d discover where the hell he’d placed it before night’s end.

With a blank expression, he raised his hand to silence her. “I will not have your failures ruin the impeccable reputation of P.I.E.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ve got one last chance. One. Last. Chance. If you are unsuccessful, your services will no longer be required.”

Her nose twitched. She couldn’t help it. She hated that he made her nervous. He’d made threats like that before with other eliminators, but she never thought he’d do it with her.

“Here’s the information on your newest target.”

Tess caught the folder he tossed and opened it without a word. Anything she might say would only hurt her more. She’d survived on her fearless live-for-the-chase mentality for a long time, but she shivered, realizing the man who had saved her from delinquency when she was sixteen now threatened her life.

A wolfen. Finally. She’d hoped for an opportunity to get close to this species of shifter for years. A quick glance at the dossier told her the target was a pilot and lived in L.A. There was a name—Hugh Langston—but no picture.

“The information we’ve got is sketchy, and our client would like a detailed report on his business and personal dealings before he’s eliminated.”

No problem. She enjoyed putting her PI skills to work. “Got it.”

Lifting her head, she met Christian’s unflinching death-ray stare. “Last chance,” he reminded her.

As if she’d forget. His veiled threat didn’t mean she’d be fired. It meant she’d be eliminated. And she couldn’t die. Not yet, anyway.

She had something to do first. For the past five years she’d been searching for the wolfen responsible for her fiancé’s death. Just before he’d died, she’d vowed to find the beast. No way in hell would she leave this earth before settling that score.

“Consider it done.”

Hugh Langston exited the chopper, thinking if he didn’t get his ass on an airplane and to the Canadian Rockies soon, there was a good chance he’d lose his edge. His night vision didn’t normally play tricks on him, but tonight his weary eyes had almost mistaken a mountain lion for a hiker. Good thing he planned to leave for a long overdue vacation in a couple of days.

Police Lieutenant Andrews came around the helicopter and delivered a firm handshake. “Thanks, Hugh. As usual, your help was invaluable.”

“No problem. I just hope the kid makes it,” he said, releasing the officer’s hand. Lately, it seemed not a week went by where Hugh wasn’t helping to rescue a hiker, rock climber or lost mountain biker. September’s warm evening temperatures lured too many novices out at night.

“Thanks to you, he’s got a chance. I don’t know how you spot them, but we’re glad you do. I don’t think he would’ve lasted much longer on the side of that mountain.”

They walked side by side toward the hangar and office, and Hugh thanked his lucky stars he’d eventually spotted the young guy. The mountain rescue team on the ground never would have gotten a visual. “Say, how’s your son doing?”

“He’s good. Promises me he’ll carry a compass from now on.”

“That’s a wise idea.”

“My wife hopes he won’t venture out again. I say he’s got to. When you fall down, you get right back up. Otherwise you’re giving in to your fears.”

Hugh squeezed his eyes shut. He pushed back the human-sentient part of himself that could hear the Lieutenant’s true feelings. Most days, Hugh didn’t have to keep that skill at bay. He’d mastered hiding it, preferring to be as human as possible. But he was tired, and the policeman’s fear of losing his son flashed like a beacon.

“I’ll second that. Take care.” Hugh continued into the hangar while the lieutenant made his way to a waiting patrol car.

The bright office lights made him squint as he passed the empty reception area. He slapped the closed office door to his left, and then turned right into his private, orderly workspace. He sat behind his mahogany desk and took a moment to stretch his legs before beginning his post-flight paperwork.

“How’s the hero?” Gavin asked, taking a seat in one of the two leather armchairs on the other side of the desk.

“Tired. In need of a fucking vacation.”

He and Gavin Rhoades were partners in Langston Aviation, the helicopter company Hugh had started on his own a decade ago. Gavin had joined five years ago to boost onshore charter services for business clients. His excellent communication skills—charm, if you asked him—kept the company much busier than Hugh’s offshore and emergency response flights.

“So go now. I can handle things here. There’s nothing scheduled the next few days I can’t take care of on my own.” Gavin crossed his arms and looked at Hugh with a smirk and gleam in his eye that said, “I dare you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah. We both know what that means.” He shifted in his seat as doubt crossed his face. “So those animal instincts of yours worked again, huh? Damn. I wish I knew how you did it.”

Sometimes I wish I could tell you. “It’s the wolf in me,” he offered, the truth right there, yet hidden.

“I thought you looked a little scruffier lately.” Gavin put a hand on his own unshaven jaw line. “Seriously, though, if you want to leave sooner for Canada, just say the word.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Hugh’s cell phone rang, the number on the display warranting privacy. “I’ve got to grab this. You mind?”

Gavin stood and headed out of the office. “Now that you’re back, I’m going home. See you tomorrow.”

Hugh brought the cell to his ear, a low growl escaping his mouth. Running Langston Aviation was only one of his jobs. He led his pack 24/7. “What’s up?”

“Hugh, it’s Dane. Sorry to bother you so late, but it’s important.”

“I’m listening.” So well in fact, that he could decipher the bar Dane was sitting in from the sound of the bartender’s raspy voice in the background.

“Trey was supposed to meet a few of us a couple hours ago and never showed up. He also failed to make an appearance earlier today for the meeting you left him in charge of.”

Hugh ran a hand through his hair, remembering yesterday’s conversation with Trey. Indications he was in trouble or shirking his duties hadn’t been present while they’d shared a beer. The kid took his apprenticeship seriously.

There had to be an explanation. “No one’s heard a word?” he asked.

“No. But there have been rumblings of the Wolf Seekers stirring up trouble again. They’re blaming us for another casualty we had nothing to do with.”

He knew that. So did Trey. Maybe he went snooping around on his own. Which meant he could be in trouble. Shit. Hugh never doubted his decision to appoint Trey second in command with the goal that he would eventually take over. Still, the young, energetic wolfen didn’t always make the smartest decisions.

“I agree something must be up then, but Trey can take care of himself. Let me know of any new developments.”

“Sure. If you want, I can take over his duties for the time being.” He sounded a little too eager for Hugh’s liking. No one took over for Trey.

“Not necessary. Goodnight.”

Hugh threw his phone onto the desk, where it landed with a thud. Trey could take care of himself. He had control over his shifting, had superior senses and instincts. His intelligence didn’t always dictate his actions, but as long as there wasn’t a leggy brunette giving him the eye, he’d be fine.

So much for an early escape. No way in hell could he leave town now. Not until he knew Trey was safe. And in charge of the Night Runners.

Something big was brewing. Hugh could feel it. The Wolf Seekers were less cautious than normal, more intimidating. Secrecy no longer seemed important, and that could mean trouble for humans as well as Veilers.

He fisted his hands. There was no possible way a Night Runner had committed an act against a Seeker without his knowledge. Nothing happened without his approval. Regardless of the Wolf Seekers’ agenda, Hugh didn’t order harm unless absolutely necessary.

Which meant there might be a third party involved. Was Trey digging into something on his own? Hoping to prove his value without any guidance? Hell. If anything happened to the young shifter, Hugh would never forgive himself. He hadn’t saved his older brother and he’d be damned if he let harm come to Trey.

He pushed up from his chair and paced back and forth, his steps leaving footprints in the Persian rug. Trey had mentioned a woman’s name—a blind date tomorrow night. Hugh had tuned out of the conversation when talk turned to women, but now he wanted to kick himself. Maybe she knew something.

If Trey didn’t turn up, Hugh would meet her instead. He’d follow every lead, no matter how small or insignificant. If only he could remember her goddamn name. Tina…Tracy…Tess.

Her name was Tess.

Chapter Two

Tess wished she were back at Angeles National Park, bungee jumping off the Bridge to Nowhere. The adrenaline rush from four jumps earlier in the day had worn off—the mind-freeing high had disappeared. And now she was confronted with this.

“I can’t believe you set me up on a blind date without asking.” Tess looked herself up and down in the full-length bedroom mirror, not sure Kensie’s recommendation to wear a skimpy dress was a good idea. She wasn’t shy about her body, but would be much more comfortable in jeans.

“You look hot,” Francesca said, entering the bedroom holding three bottles of beer. She handed one to Kensie and then Tess.

Easy for her to say. At five foot eight with perfect curves and wavy auburn hair, Francesca oozed hotness.

“I was just thinking about changing into—”

“I’d like to make a toast.” Francesca raised her bottle. “To Tess. May this date be the first of many.”

“Hear, hear,” Kensie seconded, clinking her bottle against the others. Her lilting Aussie accent made Tess smile and she resigned herself to being anxious.

Still, she drank down the twelve ounces without taking a breath. When finished, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “How about another?”

Francesca pointed at her with a disapproving look, a tsk-tsk smirk crossing her know-it-all face. “Don’t do that on your date, Miss Manners. A guy doesn’t want a drinking buddy, he wants a lady.”

Kensie took Tess’s empty bottle and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried. I’m thirsty.”

“Jason’s been gone for five years,” Kensie continued. “It’s time you tested the waters again.”

A lump the size of a potato grew in her throat, but she tried to hide it. “I’ve been out with plenty of guys.”

“To jump off cliffs with, not date. Those are two entirely different things and you know it.” Kensie had her there.

“Thanks to you two, I don’t have much choice, do I?” She looked at her two closest friends in the world—her family—and her stiff posture slackened. Slightly. One wrong move and the dress might do something she didn’t want it to.

“You’ll thank us later,” Francesca said. “Trey is sexy as hell, smart and he’s got a wicked sense of humor.”

He sounds too good to be true, she thought, her body perking up at the description. Bad body. “So why aren’t you dating him?”

“He’s our bar buddy. We couldn’t date a mate,” Kensie said.

“Plus he’s pretty busy himself. We had to coax him into going out with you.” Francesca winced as soon as the words left her mouth. “I think I hear the phone ringing.”

Tess caught her arm before she could move away. “Hold on there, pal. I’m meeting a guy who doesn’t want to meet me? That’s great. Now I’m a charity case. Did you describe me as eloquently as you did him?”

“Of course,” Kensie answered, putting her arms around their shoulders and steering them to the side of the bed. Their butts landed on the faded cream-colored down comforter. “And it wasn’t at all difficult to persuade him after we sang your praises.”

“He needs to blow off some steam. You need to blow off some steam. We thought the two of you might enjoy doing it together,” Francesca said.

Tess wouldn’t admit it out loud, but going on a date after so long did hold some appeal. She missed being intimate with someone. Missed having a warm body to cuddle up to. Missed kissing. She’d thrown herself into extreme sports after Jason’s death to numb the pain, to leave her little time for thinking or feeling, to distract her from the heartache. But now loneliness crept into her psyche, reminding her she was alone. And more and more, she feared she wouldn’t be able to keep her promise to him. After five years of secretly investigating, she doubted she’d find his killer.

The thought made her madder than hell.

Maybe a night out would help. Make her forget about her job and her promise. Away from work and extreme sports, she might feel like a normal girl.

She bounded up from the bed and took one more look at herself before heading out the door. “Guess I’ll see you guys later.”

“Or maybe not. Have fun!” Francesca called.

“I slipped a couple frangers in your purse!” Kensie added, a schoolgirl giggle following.

Great. Tess had condoms in her purse. In thirty minutes, she’d be sitting in a bar across from a total stranger thinking about a possible sex connection if nothing else.

She kept the speedometer of her BMW to the posted miles per hour—not an easy task, but she already had one too many speeding tickets—and drove around the block a few times to check out the restaurant before parking. When she entered the bar, she noted the burgundy walls, dark wood furnishings and oversized chairs. A low hum filled the airspace. A few heads turned her way.

One booth remained available at the far side of the room, so she grabbed it. She scooted along the leather upholstered bench seat and decided to order a drink while she waited. Her mouth was dry, her throat parched. And her deodorant was not living up to its promise.

I can jump out of an airplane, no problem, but I can’t meet a guy without sweating. Freaking get over it. “Whatever you’ve got on tap please,” she said to the ponytailed waitress who stopped by the table.

A glance at her cell told her her date was late. She drummed her fingers on the polished wood table deciding if he didn’t show, she’d eat and drink, watch the people around her, then leave. Go home to an empty bed. No biggie.

So why were nervous tremors ticking at the side of her neck? Why did she shift uncomfortably in her seat?

Because it did matter.

She wanted a date.

Jason had been her first love. They’d met in foster care and instantly bonded. First as friends, then as more. When she’d been recruited by P.I.E. at sixteen, the secrecy of the organization had taken her away from him. But less than a year later, he’d found her surfing the waves of Malibu Beach one foggy Sunday morning. He’d turned eighteen, was on his own and still made her heart skip a beat.

Tess hated keeping her occupation from him, but followed protocol during the next five years they shared together. He believed she was a production assistant, her irregular hours and time away due to film shoots, not missions. When he’d surprised her with a diamond ring and proposal on her twenty-third birthday, pure happiness had engulfed her. And she told him the truth.

One week later, a wolfen killed him.

She stared at the empty space across from her. Pictured the last smile he’d dazzled her with. Good memories hadn’t erased the guilt festering inside her. Blame still wove an intricate path through her soul. She hated herself because even without proof, she knew her job, and his knowing about it, had contributed to his death.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the restaurant door swing wide. A small group of college students in UCLA sweatshirts entered. Her gaze followed them to the bar while she thought wistfully about what it might have been like to attend a university. Study marine biology like she’d always wanted to.

Unsure how long she stared, she panned back to the entrance and spied a ruggedly handsome man with chestnut hair that was more long than short, a strong jaw and a mouth so sinfully appealing she gulped.

She dropped her perusal to his black leather jacket, trim waist and long jean-clad legs. When she looked back up, she found his eyes trained on her. Wow. A shiver raced through her body. The sounds in the bar immediately vanished. All she could hear was the beating of her heart. Was that Trey?

Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t look away as he approached. His eyes held hers with commanding authority and she never backed down from a challenge. Forget that their azure color was crystal clear and they held a sort of animal magnetism. If Tess didn’t know better, she’d say he wanted to devour her.

Holy shit.

“You must be Tess,” he said, sliding into the booth across from her. His voice was like dark chocolate and honey. Rich, warm, golden. “I’m…Trey.”

Umm, yeah. But hell if she could make any coherent sound. Instead, she took in his broad shoulders, tousled hair, leather scent. When her gaze met his steely blue one again, he seemed to read her like an open book.

“You are Tess,” he repeated. Not a question. A statement. That totally unsettled her and shook her from the trance he’d somehow cast. She’d never met anyone who knew her before being properly introduced.

“Yes, sorry. Nice to”—she thrust her arm across the table—“meet you.”

His hand enveloped hers and thanks to static electricity, included a shock that made her flinch and whip her arm back. A noise escaped her lips that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. She did not giggle. Not like that.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” He slouched against the back of the booth, the wood panel behind his head separating them from the next table.

Nope. The pleasure was not all his. If the tiny bursts of tingles thrumming through her body didn’t mean pleasure, she didn’t know what did. Scratch that. She knew exactly what did. It had just been a long time since the pleasure wasn’t a result of extreme physical exertion.

She directed her attention to the eatery, privately insisting he was not the best thing she’d ever seen. “Nice place. Do you come here often?” Could she sound more clichéd? She’d been out of the dating world for so long, she had no idea what to talk about.

“Often enough, but I’ve never sat across from such a beautiful woman before.” His eyes searched past her and he waved a hand. The waitress made a beeline to their table.

“What can I get you?” she asked, slightly out of breath.

“I’ve already got a beer coming.” Tess looked at the waitress with raised eyebrows. How long did it take to get a beer? She needed it. Like now. Beautiful? Her? Smooth talker. She didn’t care that it was probably a line.

“Make it two then.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a quirk of a smile that was far too dangerous for her liking.

She kicked off her shoes under the table and slid one leg beneath her bottom. He looked awfully comfortable and for the first time in far too long, Tess forced herself to relax as well. She took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t notice the rise and fall of her chest. Blind date jitters were not something she was familiar with. Certainly no man had ever made her feel this restless.

“I would have guessed you a scotch man.” She set her sights back on him and her stomach flipped. Hungry. She was hungry.

“Why don’t we just cut to the chase?” He leaned forward on his arms, hands clasped, the ease of a moment ago gone. There was no hint of playfulness in his expression, not an ounce of affection or desire on his part.

So Tess had no idea what the hell he meant. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. What exactly are you doing here?” He didn’t glare, but the narrowing of his eyes meant serious business.