Page 34 of Cozen

Stop calling me that.

“And so, I will leave that up to you,” Jett added. “Approach her, and see if she is interested in something. Tell her I would like to see her again.”

“Me?”

Why me?

“Yes, you,” Jett said, scowling. “She will recognize you, and she’s new here. One of my other men might scare her off, and you seem more relaxed. So yes, you.”

Wonderful.

“Go,” Jett said when Sargon didn’t move.

Well, fuck.

Eyes on the fucking target, Cozen. Eyes on the—

“Is there a story behind your name?”

Cozen straightened up from the bar faster than she thought was possible. Her internal mantra interrupted by the sound of sin whispering in her ear.

Sargon.

Her heart thundered hard in her chest as she turned to find the man in question standing just a foot away in the shadows created by the hallway and lights. The man who put her entirely off balance from the first second she stepped into the private dining area. His dark amber gaze had landed on her, and from that moment, she found it a little harder to breathe.

Then, she remembered her task.

Jett Griffin.

Putting herself in his path.

Gaining his attention.

Going from there.

Well, Cozen figured she did that, but the only way she could was by practically ignoring the beautifully unsettling man sitting across from Jett.

It was going to be impossible for her to ignore Sargon right now. In fact, having him this close to her with the illusion of privacy from Jett and his men, Cozen found her skin heating under his gaze, and her heart would not calm down no matter how hard she tried to make it relax.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked.

Cozen kept her gaze on the bill she was writing out for Jett’s dinner. She couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling to the side, and catching a glimpse of the carved-from-stone God standing next to her.

“Your name,” Sargon murmured.

The words fell from his lips, and he never moved an inch. Yet, Cozen still felt him far too close for her comfort.

Mostly because she wanted him closer.

Attraction could be a bitch.

“Is there a story behind it?” he asked again.

Broad shoulders framed his body, and the silk dress shirt he wore was just tight enough to show off a chest and arms full of hard lines, and firm muscles. His lips were shaped in such a way that he looked as though he was perpetually smirking, although she had seen him scowl. And damn him, because he was looking mighty fucking good doing that, too.

Cozen looked over at him fully. “Not that I know of.”

Sargon’s lips curved at the edges, and formed a wicked smile. The kind of grin that might make weaker women throw themselves at him. The sad thing was, Cozen knew she wasn’t a weak woman, but she’d be a lying bitch if she said she wasn’t tempted to throw something at him for that look.