Taking it, he read the name: Ana Moreno. Twenty-one. No middle name. He studied the picture and the other info. Undeniably her photo, and the ID appeared legitimate. He glanced at her hands. No rings. No husband to worry about. But it wouldn’t have mattered. He’d have pursued her either way to find out what she knew. He handed the card back to her.
“Now…if you’d just move out of my way, Saven.”
His eyebrow lifted. “You can call me Jonas.”
“Move aside,
Jonas
.”
Frowning, he shifted his stance. Where was his habitual finesse? Apparently stomped into the ground at her feet along with his ego.
Her mouth curved. “You’re not moving.”
He reached out and brushed aside the bothersome lock of hair that fell in her face again. Fine, baby soft. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets. He wanted to touch a lot more than her hair.
“I’ll move, Ana, but on the condition I can buy you a drink.”
She looked away, hesitated, then said, “All right.”
Ana stepped into the warmth of the club, the music rioting around her. She didn’t know where to go, so she motioned with a nod for Saven to lead the way.
He offered one long-fingered hand.
The problem was, touching had always been an intimacy she tried to avoid. Once you touched someone, the person became comfortable, and she hadn’t decided how comfortable she would get with Jonas Saven yet. She couldn’t recall a time when she had held someone’s hand like she’d often noticed while watching people on the street. And even though she needed to get closer to Saven, and had danced with him, this one intimacy was a line she wasn’t ready to cross.
She shook her head.
He lifted an eyebrow in amusement and turned to lead the way. His dark ponytail reached below the shoulders of his tailored dark suit. Following him, she noted how the jacket outlined his strong back, tapered his waist. The quality of the material reminded her they came from two different worlds.
She’d read in his file that until the age of twelve, he’d lived an upper-class life with his parents and sister, an entire different universe from her own childhood. Then poof—just like that—nothing. No record about him or his family existed until he’d resurfaced five years ago connected to Brooks. Where had he been those missing years?
As he walked, Saven turned heads. Females brushed up against him. He smiled and kissed a few cheeks in greeting. Women actually looked Ana up and down as if she was some kind of competition.
Sure, she might have Saven’s attention for a while, but they should realize a playboy like him would be back giving his attention to them soon enough. They halted at a small elevator door beside the bar. He coded in a sequence of digits on a number pad and the doors glided open. Her trained eye caught the motion of his fingers. A code for the club could be handy during her involvement in this X op.
“Where are we going?” she asked him.
“To have that drink.”
Ana leaned against the wall of the elevator, crossing her arms. She watched Saven push the button for the top floor. Her nerves stretched along with their silence. “Nice club.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you.”
A moment later, the doors opened to a private office.
She stepped out. With Saven so close, she could practically feel his heat at her back. “So…you manage this place?”
“Yes. Have a seat.” He walked to a massive black desk. He placed his wallet inside a drawer. A collage of security cameras were embedded in the wall to the right of the furniture. A mild deodorizer lingered in the air, as if the room had been freshly cleaned. One thing was for sure, anything Saven owned smelled nice. The lights were dimmed low, but he didn’t bother turning them up. Probably setting the scene.
“What would you like to drink?”
She didn’t drink. A Dr. Pepper would have been good, but she would play his game. “Whatever you’re having.”
Artsy wallpaper swirling with grays and blacks covered the walls of his office. Black shiny shelves lined one side of the room, holding books and sophisticated modern sculptures probably worth a pretty penny. Back in the day—six months to be exact—when she’d been running B and E’s, this club would have been the perfect place to hit. The high-dollar establishments were always the top picks.
She took a seat on a short sofa, the black leather cool against her skin. She tugged at the hem of the dress, careful not to flash her underwear. Saven stood at a miniature bar next to her.
After pouring two shots of something that looked like vodka, he joined her. Close. His knee brushed her leg.
She cleared her throat. “The club is really happening tonight. Who did you say owned it?”
“I didn’t,” he said. “I don’t want to talk business. Let’s talk about you.”
Her eyes met his. The quiet, dimly lit atmosphere was very intimate. He broke their gaze, moving his attention to her mouth.
She stopped herself from licking her lips, fearing he would see it as an invitation.
His cell phone rang.
“Excuse me a moment.”
When he left the couch, she sank into the leather. It was best not to get too comfortable with him. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down.
Remembering her drink, she took a sip.
Whoa
. Heat burst in her nostrils and a slow burn crawled down her throat. Her eyes watered. She coughed.
“Are you okay?” Saven asked, pulling the phone from his ear.
She nodded, blinking away tears. No wonder she didn’t drink that crap. She stood up from the couch, tugging at the hem of her dress, and walked to the security monitors. No more of that poison.
On the screens people danced, drank and partied. Digit’s plan had obviously worked. Setting them up with the creep and dancing provocatively had caught Saven’s eye.
Anything for the job…almost.
When Saven had pulled her away from the creep, he’d caught her off guard. She’d been ready to pound somebody’s face for laying a hand on her. Luckily she’d stopped herself.
Now he was playing his Mr. I-have-the-sexiest-grin-in-America card. This side of him cut her like a double-edged switchblade—it made him easy to manipulate, playing up to his flirting, but gave him one point up on her as well. It had felt pretty good rubbing against him on the dance floor. His large body had overwhelmed her, the feel of him bringing forth desires she usually kept locked inside.
Just what she needed…to have the hots for a possible drug dealer. As if life wasn’t complicated enough.
“Ana.”
A shift of movement. Saven walked up behind her. His heat was back.
Her hand tightened around her glass.
Take it easy. The guy was a target in an op. She needed information. “I’m sorry about being rude today.” Her words broke into the silence.
“Forget about it. Is your friend okay?” His voice slid out in a low murmur.
“Yeah, just old business that caught up with him. Mouse always bounces back.” His fingertips brushed her bare neck just above the neckline of her dress. She stilled, not sure if she liked it or not.
Okay, she did like it, and that was a problem.
“Something tells me you’re the same way. You bounce back when something happens to you.”
She looked down at her drink. “That’s the way I’ve had to be. Can’t let anything take me down.”
“I admire that.”
Was he for real, or did he just say what women wanted to hear?
What the hell was the matter with her?
Don’t make this personal. Stay focused on the objective
.
She scraped her lower lip with her teeth. “The owner—”
“Ana,” he said again, softly.
Turning, she lifted her chin and met his direct stare. And felt that punch of attraction that stole her breath.
“Are you okay?” His long fingers reached to caress her cheek.
She nearly stepped back, before she caught herself. “I’m fine.”
His full lips curved as he stepped closer. A hint of cologne drifted from him, a masculine scent she’d never smelled before.
“I’ve been curious…I know I see Hispanic in you, but also a little of something else. Hawaiian?”
She sighed, although she wasn’t surprised by the question. She’d been the subject of this guessing game too many times, including when she played it herself. “I’m somewhat of a mutt. Mexican and white. And before you ask, I speak only English, and yeah, I was born a U.S. citizen.”
“Sore subject?” A hint of smile was in his voice.
“Just reality.” She let her eyes roam his face, taking in his sexy eyes with the dark lashes, the strong slope of his nose, his full sensual lips. “What about you? Let me guess. Good ol’ white bread?”
He smiled. “Basically. We all have ethnicity in our background.”
But he
looked
white under that golden tan. He’d probably never felt a hint of discrimination in his life.
“Your features are very unique.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Unique. You mean different?”
“I say what I mean. You’re unique, Ana. Your eyes are stunning. They stand out with their beautiful color and shape.”
His soft words made her stomach flutter.
“There’s something I want to ask you,” he said. “I’d like you to be honest with me.”
She tried to stay clear of those “honest” types of questions.
He raised a hand and glided her hair back behind her ear with his finger. The soft touch caused a slight shiver to cruise down her neck.
“How do you know Dolini?”
Dolini?
Her expression must have told him something because he said, “The low-life in the arcade. Were you looking to buy drugs?”
Her body tensed. He’d thrown her off guard with his seductive voice and close proximity, and she didn’t like it one bit. She was the one who wanted the upper hand tonight, and somehow he’d topped her again.
“Ana?”
Max always had a rule for this.
If you’re caught in a jam, especially if you’re guilty and there’s nowhere to run, play dumb
.
She smiled sweetly and cocked her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Saven’s mouth flattened into a straight line.
He put his glass on the shelf beside them with a click and then reached for hers.
She tugged back, but her hand—a little tender from the assault in the alley—made her wince and let go.
He set her glass aside, focusing on her hand. He reached for her and took her tender fingers into his warm grip.
Anxiety built in her. She pulled free and stepped back, hiding her hands behind her, and hit wall.
Before she could stop him, his large body was against hers. Slipping his hand behind her back, he brushed her butt as he gripped her wrist.
Her breaths increased with his body heat. She kept her gaze on the lapel of his suit. “Don’t.”
“Give me your hand.”
“No.”
He stroked his free hand up her bare neck, gliding his fingers into her hair, forcing her face to tilt up. “I’m not going to hurt you.” There was a ruthlessness in his gaze, and the hard edge in his voice contradicted his words.
He lowered his head toward her. Her heartbeats quickened as his breath fanned her lips, the crisp vodka scent intoxicating her.
She licked the dryness from her lips. She’d given the signal but she shook her head—whether for him or her, she didn’t know.
It didn’t do any good.
His mouth met hers, opening her lips, tongue sliding inside. His body pressed her firmly against the wall, his hand and hers still behind her back.
The kiss grew deeper, stronger.
A whimper slid up her throat.
His mouth nibbled her sensitive lips, making her stomach clench. He moved to her neck, causing her eyes to go heavy, her body to push closer.
She felt him harden against her stomach. She couldn’t stop the soft sounds falling from her lips. Sounds of arousal, of want.
Of sexual need.
“Yes,” he whispered.
She tried to pull her hands free, to reach for him. He was pressed too firmly against her. She should have been scared, but that small hint of danger heightened her lust. Her body instinctively moved against him.
Something built inside of her. Her heart pounded. She could hear the blood pulse inside her head.
Knock, knock, knock
.
Cursing, Saven broke the kiss and placed his forehead to hers. Her stomach tightened at the gesture and she couldn’t ease the abrupt tension. His chest rose up and down, her breathing ragged. She swallowed, trying to calm down.
Oh damn.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?
She looked up to find him staring at her, his gaze strange. Hesitant. His lips glistened where some of her lipstick had smudged his mouth.
She didn’t bat an eyelash, holding herself completely still. It seemed he could see straight through her. As if he knew her true motive.
The moment vanished when he released her and stepped away. She flexed her hands as he spoke through the door that he’d be out in a minute.
A woman’s voice called back.
Ana turned toward the security screens, surprised by the disappointment engulfing her. Her hand flew to her chest as if for protection. How could she think a man like Saven, a man with his style, didn’t have a woman?
One at every turn.
She wiped her swollen mouth with the back of her hand. What had she been thinking?
That was the problem. She hadn’t been thinking. Only experiencing a sensation she hadn’t felt in all too long. Desire.
Jonas Saven was way out of her league. He was also possibly a criminal. Or maybe not. Nothing had been proven about him or Brooks.
She
was the one with the record, the one serving her sentence for the next five years.
After seeing her provocative moves downstairs, he’d apparently thought she’d be an easy lay. And with that kiss, she’d proved him right. All that talk of her eyes, of her being unique, was just a game he played with women to make them feel special so he could reel them in.
Hook, line and sinker.
Right now wasn’t about the unfamiliar vibrations going on inside of her. It was all about the operation and finding out about the lethal shipment.