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It was a reassuring gesture to keep Bryson talking, but the interrogator's trick had the opposite effect on Isaac. Jealousy—cold, hard and solid—hit him straight in the gut, as unusual as it was tangible.
"They were perfect," she continued. "Did you happen to tell him where you were delivering the centerpieces?"
Bryson dropped his attention from the sexy woman in front of him to the tip of his left shoe. "I might have."
'Might have' his ass. The kid had given up the location of the party. Time for good cop to give way to pissed off cop. The kid was a contender, but Isaac was bigger, meaner and more experienced in the ways of scaring the shit out of young punks.
He slipped between Tamara and Bryson. "Did you or didn't you?"
"Yeah," he squeaked out. "He said he wanted to talk to Mr. Hazard in a neutral location. I know you guys are working cases upstairs. I figured he wanted to share information without looking like a snitch." He made a half-hearted kick at the gym's concrete floor. "I should have told someone. I'm really sorry."
Tamara's pointed elbow landed firmly between two of Isaac's rib as she circled around him to face the fighter. "Don't worry about it, Bryson. You didn't do anything wrong."
The other man mumbled a thanks and hustled off to the locker room, leaving Tamara in all of her icy glory standing next to him.
"There was no need to go all asshole on him," she said as she examined her red nails. "He didn't do anything wrong."
For once when he was around Tamara, Isaac's brain got the upper hand over his dick. The moron had leaked the party location. That he didn't realize he was doing anything wrong was beside the point. He could have gotten Tamara killed. There wasn't a single shred of a doubt in his mind that Fane wouldn't bypass any kind of legal processing and skip straight to doing whatever it took to get Essie's location out of Tamara—even if that meant having to do a very final clean up afterward so no one would ever know what happened. Keir had put together a complete brief on the cult leader. Fane didn't think he was above the law. He thought he was the law.
"He didn't do anything wrong?" He shoved his fingers through his hair hard enough to yank a few out. "He gave you up to Wolczyk."
She shrugged. "It was an accident."
"The kind that could've given Fane your location," he bit out.
He didn't need to elaborate the world of hurt that would come down after Fane found her so the bastard could peel Essie's location out of Tamara's brain. She knew. The truth was written in the pinched tightness around her eyes and the sudden pallor on her skin.
"But it didn't." She brushed her hands across the swell of her hips and threw back her shoulders while a dangerous gleam blazed in her blue eyes.
Oh shit. "I know that look."
"What look is that?" For the first time since she clamped eyes on Bryson, she turned her full attention to Isaac.
Something shifted inside him as his cock tried to take the wheel from his brain. Exactly the effect she knew she'd have on him. He had to hand it to her, the woman used ever tool at her disposal to get her way—and that meant turning him into a horny idiot who'd get the hell out of her way. If he wasn't so familiar from using the same tactic himself, he'd be pissed off. As it was, he had to admire her commitment. Too bad it wasn't gonna work.
"The one that says you're already planning to run."
Her gaze held steady, but clasped her hands together tight enough to turn her knuckles white. "That's not the word I'd choose."
"Semantics."
"Call it what you want then, just keep your mouth shut about it." The mask dropped and she showed off her true glory. She wasn't an avenging angel. No. This Tamara—the real one, he'd guess—was a survivor and a bare-knuckle brawler who'd sacrifice it all to protect those she loved. "I don't want to cause the team any more headaches than I already have and Essie can't afford to have me lead Jarrod to her location."
"On one condition."
Her eyes went wide, no doubt she'd been expecting another answer. Oh no, he knew better than to run full-tilt at a brick wall and expect it to result in anything other than his head broken open and his brains dripping out. He just needed to keep her off balance. She wouldn't head off right away. No, his girl liked to plan and plot. Snagging Essie and running had probably been one of the few spur-of-the-moment things she'd ever done.
"What condition?"
"Dinner with me tomorrow night." There was no reason why they couldn't get something they both wanted—no matter how she tried to deny it—while at the same time making sure she stayed safe.
She sighed and all but rolled her eyes. "I really don't have time for that."
"No problem. I'm sure the team has plenty of time to hear what kind of trouble you're about to get yourself into by taking off for parts unknown without any backup at all."
Blackmail? Him? Oh, he'd stoop to that and much more. Tamara wasn't the only one willing to go to the mattresses to protect others.
"I'm the last person Taz and Bianca want to help."
