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"Examples of your work?"
"Once you commission me, you'll have them."
"Which clients of Dion's left him?"
"Can't say."
"Can't?" she challenged. "Or won't?"
Exhaling, I took my life firmly in my hands and met her glance. "Confidentiality isn't optional. I won't give you their names and I'll never give anyone yours." And since she'd just saved me from being tortured, I wasn't sure what other evidence I could offer.
"Address?"
My dick twitched, the fact I was hard as hell remained hidden by the First Aid kit. Every word out of her mouth was a sensual caress. I bet she could read the warnings on prescription brands and turn me on.
Yes, I was that fucking twisted.
"You can drop me at Melbourne and Cross." That was not far from the center of downtown and close enough to my place that I could hoof it a few blocks over without leading her right back to my place.
In fact, no more fucking meetings at my place.
I should move my place.
"You should move," she told me.
It was like she was in my brain. I'd rather have her in my bed.
But I was smart enough not to say that. "I should."
We were closer to where I asked for the drop off than I realized and it was pretty busy. Another glance down said the blood really wasn't visible on my clothes, even if it did make them tacky.
"Here," she said, taking the First Aid kit and handing me a phone.
I frowned down at it and then looked at her. "I'm not that much of a rookie."
"It's a burner phone. I don't keep GPS active in anything I carry on me."
Right. "Give me a number to call."
"You have trust issues," she murmured.
"So do you. But I'd wager mine have been well-earned in the last few hours."
That gained me another husky laugh and she gave me a ten-digit number. "Don't make me come looking for you Fletcher Reed."
Threat or promise? My cock was interested in both. I let myself out, and as tempting as it was to take Dion's servers, I left them right where they were. I glanced back inside the car at her. "Thank you."
Puzzlement flashed in her tawny-colored eyes and holy crap, I'd just really noticed their color as she glanced at me over her sunglasses. Those eyes were—unforgettable. "Don't thank me, yet," she suggested. "Call me and we'll talk business."
"And after business?" You know, I should learn to just walk away from these things, but nope, there went my mouth.
"We'll see," she demurred, then nudged her sunglasses up. "Go on. You've probably got a hike and you're already hurting."
"True. Give me a couple of hours. I'll call." Closing the door, I was four steps away from the car before I realized how neatly she'd gotten me to confirm this wasn't where I lived.
When I glanced over my shoulder, I found her watching me with a fascinating little smile to her lips. Tipping my hand to her, I headed toward the northeast entrance of the building and one of about a dozen blind spots in the surveillance cameras in the area.
I knew, because I'd made sure they were there.
