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She must feel me watching her because her gaze lifts and turns in my direction, and when her eyes fall on me, there is a rush of awareness between us, followed by white-hot lust, at least on my part. And despite how hands-off she should be, and is, I welcome it. Lust I can handle. Lust is familiar.
She gives me a tiny wave and a smile before she places her order, and damn it, there’s a kick in my gut, something more than lust again. It’s not familiar. It’s not comfortable and I don’t have time to find a way to dismiss it, either.
It’s not long before she slides into the seat across from me. “Morning,” she says, her voice so fucking sweet, a beautiful contradiction of tough and charming.
“Good morning,” I say, and she is even prettier this close.
She motions to my cup. “White mocha or butterscotch?”
“White mocha,” I confirm. “I have a sweet tooth.” I point out the bag of M & M’s on the table. “Breakfast of champions. Want some?”
She laughs. “For breakfast? No, but have you tried the new brownie ones?”
“I’m more of a traditional guy.”
“The brownie M & M’s will convert you, I promise.” Her cellphone rings and she pulls it from the running belt around her waist, eyeing the number, her mood sobering instantly. “Defense’s lead counsel. Maybe I do need chocolate for breakfast. Sorry. I have to take this.” She answers the line and says, “A little early to get a call from you, Daniel. You want to make a deal, right?”
Her name is called out and she stands and walks to the counter. Grabbing her coffee, she heads back in my direction but pauses halfway between the coffee bar and the table.
But I am still close, the only person in hearing distance and only barely, but I manage to pick up pieces of the conversation. “Then maybe you should tell your client to stop hurting people,” she says her voice low, taut, then she says, “What bigger fish?”
She turns slightly and the sound barrier broadens. That’s all I get before she ends the call. By the time she’s returned, I’ve packed up my bag. “I need to go,” she says. “Unfortunately, I have to get to the office sooner than expected.”
I stand, studying her, searching her lovely face, and finding tension ticking along her jawline. “Tell me you didn’t agree to a deal.”
“You heard,” she assumes.
“Enough,” I say. “Tell me you didn’t accept a deal,” I repeat.
“No,” she says, “but he wants me to meet with him and Waters. Waters is offering me a bigger fish.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
Now my jaw is ticking. “He’s too dangerous to let get away, and too many people gave up their lives to get him where he is now, for you to set him free.”
“I’m not going to just set him free. I want him behind bars. And how do you know anything about this case?”
“I know,” I say. “Who does he want to trade?”
“I can’t—”
“Who, Pri?” I insist.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Whoever it is, isn’t as bad as Waters.”
“You can’t know that.”
“And yet, I do.” I catch the fingers of her hand with mine and I don’t miss her tiny intake of breath or the fact that she doesn’t pull away. “Call Blake Walker. He’ll stop the bloodshed. He’ll help you win this case.”
“I can’t even guarantee I can get his fees approved.”
“Walker will do this for free if they have to.”
She blinks up at me. “Free? Why would they do that?”
“Because I’m involved and because Waters really is the King Devil. Waters will keep hurting people. Don’t let that happen.” My hand falls from hers. “I’m going to leave, at least for now, and let you think.”
I step around her and take two steps when she calls out. “Wait!”
I half turn and she asks, “How do you know all of this? How?”
“Call Blake.” I rotate again and this time I really do leave.
***
PRI
I stare after Rafael, confused about whose side he’s on. It feels like he’s on mine, but he knows too much about Waters to be some random guy in a coffee shop I just happened to meet. He could be working for Waters, playing games with me. Or Rafael could be Adrian Mack. It’s a crazy thought. Of course, undercover work is his thing but no, it can’t be true. It’s not true. And yet, it popped into my head. When things pop into my head, they usually matter. Oh God. Why am I standing here? I just let him leave.
I race after him and exit the coffee shop, scanning left and right, but he’s nowhere to be found.Chapter ElevenPRI
Still in front of the coffee shop, I grab my phone and dial Rafael’s number, but after several rings it goes to voicemail. “It’s Pri,” I say. “Please call me.” I hang up and start walking. He wants me to call Blake Walker. I’ll call him, but I need to do it at home, alone.
