As he looked at me, his sensual mouth curved up in the manner of a man about to sample something delicious—and the something was me. I shivered, the unexpected thought making my body tingle in a way that caught me off guard, but that I couldn’t deny liking.
It took one hell of an effort, but I straightened my shoulders and met his eyes coolly, determined to take back at least a modicum of control.
“Sloane was looking for you,” Kat said. “She says you’ll want to talk to her.”
“Does she?” His attention stayed full on my face, and I thought for a moment that if I stepped closer, I would drown in those liquid eyes. “Funny,” he said. “She’s just the woman I want, too.”
Chapter Two
She’s just the woman I want, too.
His words wrapped around me, as enticing as a caress, and the control I’d been clutching scattered like so much dandelion fluff.
That moment of weakness passed quickly, though, shoved aside by years of police training and the deeply ingrained cynicism I’d lived with since childhood. Tyler Sharp was a con man and a womanizer and who knew what else. He knew how to flatter. How to entice. How to make a woman feel special and interesting and, yeah, just a little turned on. But no way had he really been looking for me. He’d been out of town for weeks, and I knew that he’d returned only this afternoon. So, no. I wasn’t on his radar.
I told myself that was a good thing. If Tyler Sharp was going to be looking at me, I wanted him to see only what I was willing to reveal.
As if in answer to my thoughts, he glanced down, then drew his gaze over me, starting at my newly-painted pink toenails and moving so slowly up my body that it took all my willpower not to shiver. When his eyes once again reached mine, I almost gasped at the wicked fire I saw beneath the fierce arctic blue. A wild, penetrating flame that had the power to burn away my cover and leave me naked, all my secrets fully exposed to this man.
The thought should have angered me. At the very least, it should have worried me.
Instead, it excited me.
You’re off your game, Sloane. Walk away. Just walk away, get your bearings, and kick off the op tomorrow.
Good advice, actually. And why wouldn’t it be? I was a damn good cop, after all.
Apparently I was also a damn fool, because I had no intention of walking away. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was sticking because of the mission or the man, but I told myself it didn’t matter. That the little trill of sensual pleasure I felt low in my belly wasn’t a weakness—it was an asset. This was a seduction, after all. A little sizzle and pop between us would only make the job easier. And a lot of sizzle and pop would make it a hell of a lot more fun.
Still, I owed either Tyler Sharp or my hormones a thank-you. Because my reaction to this man reminded me that I needed to be careful. Tyler Sharp was a dangerous breed, and though he might not know it yet, he and I were locked in a heated battle. One that I fully intended to win—even if that meant playing dirty.
Beside me, Kat shifted. The movement caught my attention, and I turned to see her watching Tyler.
He gave her the slightest of nods, and she cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, well, I’m just going to run and find Lina and give her and Evan another hug. Attend to my pseudo-hostess duties. Maybe cure cancer and solve that whole world peace problem. Hopefully you two will muddle along without me.”
“I think we’ll manage,” Tyler said. “I promise to take good care of Sloane.”
“Yeah,” Kat said. “I just bet you will.” She winked at me, then bopped away. I watched her get swallowed up by the crowd, grateful to have a moment to gather myself. When I turned back to Tyler, I saw that he hadn’t taken the same opportunity. He was still focused entirely on me.
“Alone at last,” he said.
I shifted my weight, not liking the way this man unnerved me. I was a detective, for Christ’s sake. I ate suspects for breakfast, and my bad cop skills in interviews were worthy of an Academy Award. I’d never worked undercover, though, and I suddenly had all sorts of respect for my peers who put on the mask and held tight to their secrets.
Then again, I was no stranger to masks or secrets. I could do this. And as if to prove it to myself, I looked up at him through my lashes, hoping the effect was as sexy as I imagined. “Should I be nervous? A man like you looking for me.”
“A man like me?” His voice was low. Enticing. “Interesting. So tell me—what am I like?”
I stepped closer to him, lifted my hand as if I was going to touch him, then pulled it back with a slightly embarrassed expression. “Tempting,” I said, and though the word was calculated, it was also very true.
“Am I?” He looked pointedly at my hands. “And that makes you nervous?”
“That? No.” I drew in a breath as I considered my next move and, as in chess, where that move would take me. “I’m pretty good at resisting temptation.”
“Are you?” He leaned in, his mouth so close to my ear I felt the whisper of his breath on my hair. “I’m not. As far as I’m concerned, giving in to temptation is one of the few true pleasures in life.”
Oh, my. A hot coil of desire twisted through me, making my skin flush and my knees go weak.
If he noticed my reaction, he said nothing. But he began to walk slowly around me, as a man in a museum might circle a statue.
I started to turn as well, tracking his movement. “No,” he said, the command in his voice undeniable. “Stay still. Look forward.”
I stopped, hesitated, then turned my head to look out at the party, at the people floating by in pretty dresses and elegant suits. With smiles and laughter and nothing on their minds except the quality of the wine and the rhythm of the band.
I told myself that my acquiescence was simply part of the game—he was a man who wanted control, I was the woman falling under his spell.
But it was more than that, and I damn well knew it. That flutter I felt in my belly wasn’t the excitement of the chase, but the anticipation of his touch.
Yeah, Tyler Sharp was dangerous, all right.
He was behind me now, and though I could no longer see him, I felt his presence as firm and gentle as a kiss. My breath caught in my chest, and I realized that I was anticipating the brush of his fingertips upon the nape of my neck, then his hand on my bare back, exposed in the halter-style dress.
But the touch never came—and my breath never came easy.
When he spoke, his voice was low, as if too much volume would break the spell. “You’re a riddle, Ms.…”