“Since you're so determined to utilize your brain instead of your other moredesirableassets.” His eyes drop to my breasts. “Be a good girl and go fetch my coffee you failed to produce this morning.”
With a flick of his wrist, I’m dismissed from the room, once again degraded from a respectable FBI field agent to a glorified coffee girl.
8
Isabelle
Two weeks later. . .
“You have a stalker.” Harlow’s face is animated. “A total drool-in-the-corner of-your-mouth tall drink of water, but a stalker nonetheless.”
When my baffled gaze floats from the floor, Harlow gestures her head to the corner of the room. I swallow bleakly when I catch the intense gaze of Isaac Holt peering at me from behind the morning newspaper.Shit!
When he realizes he has captured my attention, he smirks while folding his newspaper in half to place it on the table. His eyes never once detour from mine. Although my initial reaction is to run, it would look mighty suspicious if I fled now.
For the past two months, I successfully avoided any impromptu run-ins with Isaac, as the establishments he dines at are a lot fancier than this humble bakery, but I knew this run-in would eventually happen. Ravenshoe is large, but it isn't large enough to get permanently lost in the crowd.
“He has been here over half an hour and has never paid anyone any attention, until now.” Harlow hands me the whole grain and rye toasted cheese sandwich I ordered for lunch.
Once I have my mug of coffee in my hand, Isaac stands from his seat and motions for me to join him. My eyes dash around the bakery, seeking a spare table. A throaty groan escapes my lips when I discover there are no empty tables in the entire shop.
My panicked eyes shoot back to Harlow, who mouths, “Go on, he’s hot.”
Rolling my eyes, I gingerly pace to Isaac. Harlow can look at him for his irrefutable sex appeal, whereas I must look at him through the eyes of an agent. Ruthless, cunning, heartless and unlawful are the first thoughts that pop into my head when I read his FBI file, but when I look into his gray eyes, they disclose an entirely different story.
The closer I get to Isaac, the more my eyes absorb every impressive feature of his face. Sculpted cheekbones, plump and full lips on a mouth that could have me toppling into ecstasy just from hearing him speak, and one pair of the most exquisite eyes I’ve ever seen.
No photo will ever do Isaac’s eyes justice because they’ll never fully capture how alluring and intense they are in person.
“Hello, Isabelle.” Even with his angry tone, my name still rolls off his tongue seductively.
“Hi,” I reply as my heart violently flips.
A smile sneaks onto my face when he pulls out a chair for me. My breath snags in my throat when he sits next to me instead of the chair opposite me.
Trying my hardest to ignore his intoxicatingly masculine scent, I dump my satchel on the ground under our table, then pull my toasted sandwich out of the white paper bag. He remains quiet but his entrancing eyes track me. The air is suffocating, riddled by the thick stench of awkwardness.
Snubbing the nervous tension between us, I take a sizeable bite of my sandwich since I’m famished from not eating since breakfast. An appreciative moan rumbles up my throat as the gooey cheesy goodness infiltrates my taste buds. When a string of cheese snaps off my sandwich and lands on my chin, my tongue instinctively darts out to lick the residue off my face.
Isaac groans a low and menacing growl that forces my eyes to his. My cheeks heat when I’m confronted by his intense gaze staring ravishingly at my lips. Idart my eyes away before I become trapped by their allure.
My nervous eyes shift to the window at the front of the bakery. If anyone in the surveillance team witnesses our exchange, Alex will force me into a skimpy dress and parade me in front of Isaac by this evening. I refuse to be treated as a commodity. I'd rather spend my years in the Bureau gathering coffees for narcissistic, self-centered assholes than be forced into prostitution.
“I have to go,” I notify Isaac while shoving my half-eaten sandwich back into its paper bag and snatching my satchel from the ground.
My coffee is in a ceramic mug, so much to my dismay, it will remain untouched.
“I forgot an important deadline.”
I dart for the entrance of the bakery as quick as my shaking legs can take me. Harlow’s anxious eyes follow my hasty retreat.“Do you want me to pour your coffee into a takeaway cup?”
I shake my head and continue for the door. Cold air blasts my face when I emerge through the single glass door. After a few brisk strides, someone clutches my elbow, and I'm dragged to the corner of First Avenue. My angry eyes lift and are met with the stern profile of Isaac. His lips have thinned, and his jaw is twitching. My panicked eyes dart up and down the street. I sigh when I discover the blue surveillance van is nowhere in sight.
He pulls me into the dark alcove of a run-down old pub that looks like it hasn’t opened its doors in the past century. After releasing his tight grasp on my elbow, he rakes his hand over his head. When he takes a step closer to me, I back away, intimidated by his stern, livid eyes.
With a smirk, he moves closer, trapping me between him and the black door of the pub. My pussy tingles from his closeness.Stupid, traitorous body.He’s the enemy, yet, my body still gets excited from his attention.
“I assumed you must have left town when you failed to arrive for our date, but lo and behold, here you are, months later.” His voice is an angry snarl.
