The bartender slid the two piña coladas in white Styrofoam cups toward them, complete with plastic tops and straws.
From reading his dossier, Jemma fully expected Rocco to be persistent and not deterred by her rebuff. He hadn’t amassed an extensive network of confidential informants that resulted in a regular flow of drug busts and arrests for the San Juan office by being passive.
Rocco leaned past her, grabbing one of the drinks and giving her a whiff of his sensual scent, a mixture of sandalwood and spice.
They locked eyes, and her breath caught at the smoldering gaze reflected back at her.
He bit his lower lip sensually, then said, “My apologies. Enjoy the drink and your evening.” He tossed a couple of bills onto the bar and walked away.
Wait.
Rocco was leaving?
What was this?
Some kind of reverse psychology?
And damn if it didn’t work like a charm.
“Didn’t think you’d give up that easily,” Jemma called after him.
He stopped. “I was raised to respect a woman’s word. And you, Ms. Winters, deserve more respect than most. So if you tell me you don’t have time for me, I’ll leave you in peace.”
Chapter 6
“Are you playing games with me, Agent Forrester?”
How the hell he’d ended up sitting across from Jemma Winters at a bistro table overlooking San Juan Bay as the sun set, Rocco wasn’t sure. But he surely wasn’t complaining. Juntos Bar, a local establishment with excellent drinks and virtually no ambiance, was deserted. Most tourists and locals preferred to frequent the livelier bars and night clubs along San Sebastián Street in Old San Juan. But this place had long been one of his favorites.
“Now, why would you ask me that?” Rocco ignored the flutters dancing along his skin as a smile played at the corners of Jemma’s lips.
“You obviously sought me out?—”
“Obviously?” Rocco scoffed.
Jemma continued, undeterred by his interruption, “Followed me to the restaurant so you could, what? Try to convince me to keep you on as the UC for the op before my team got a chance to assess you?”
Rocco bit his lower lip. “What makes you think I approached you for … professional reasons?”
“You knew who I was when you came up to me.”
“But I didn’t offer to buy Proteus Group Supervisor Winters a drink,” Rocco clarified.
“I don’t understand.” Jemma frowned. The cutest wrinkle jumped between her eyebrows, but her eyes softened. “Who did you offer to buy a drink for?”
Rocco shrugged, then took a sip of his tumbler of rum. Lowering it from his lips, he said, “Just Jemma.”
“It’s the same person …” Jemma said, then her words faltered.
“Is it?” Rocco challenged. “When was the last time you let someone get to know the real you? Not your work. But … you.”
“Is this some kind of reverse psychology?”
“I’m a trained ER doctor, not a psychologist. Although, I did consider going into the field,” Rocco said, remembering how he’d enjoyed the dynamics of the human psyche. But that was nothing compared to the adrenaline rush he got from saving lives in the emergency room. He’d been hooked from the first moment he revived a patient who’d overdosed on cocaine.
Jemma chuckled. “Okay, I’ll play along, Agent Forrester. So, what do you want to know about Just Jemma?”
Rocco leaned forward and stared at the gorgeous face for a long moment. He wasn’t lying to her. The force that compelled him to approach her against his better judgment had nothing to do with the rigorous assessment the Proteus Team would subject him to in two days. Rocco wasn’t concerned about the evaluation. Every single moment of his career as a DEA agent had been undercover. Not to be cocky, but he was one of the most experienced and accomplished undercover agents at the DEA. The thought that he wouldn’t pass the assessment with flying colors had never crossed his mind.
