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I clear my throat and tune them out, instead focusing on my seduction game with Bart. If I can get him to trust me enough to invite me up to his room, I can search for information. It’s very possible he might even have the virus up there. Eden is the safecracker, not me, but I’ll just blast the damn thing open.
They don’t call me Deadly for nothing.
As the song winds down and a new one begins, I can feel his interest growing and his reluctance to let me go.
“How about a drink in my room?” he invites.
I give him my most dazzling smile. “I’d love that.”
I can hear Kane snarling through my earpiece as we exit the bar through a rear entrance.
“For fuck’s sake, Sailor! Where the fuck are you going? Don’t you dare leave with him.”
I click my comms off because Kane’s loud, booming voice is only going to ruin everything if Bart hears. I’m not surprised when we step off the elevator and I find myself in the penthouse. I’ll fill the guys in from the bathroom. If I can pry myself away from Mr. Grabby Hands.
“Oh, wow,” I say, looking around. “And I thought my room was nice. This is like the Taj Mahal.”
“So, Ava…what’s your last name?” Bart asks as he walks over to a small bar.
“Winthrop,” I reply.
“What do you want to drink?”
“Whiskey?” I remember how Kane and I drank whiskey at his place. Cherry cigars and whiskey will forever remind me of Kane Vicker Maddox.
As he pours us each a glass, I surreptitiously check out his room. “So what brings you to Seville?” I ask, eyeing his laptop.
“Business,” he replies.
His voice comes from right behind me and I spin around.
“Oh, how nice.” I take the whiskey. “What kind of business are you in?”
His mouth edges up. “Oh, I dabble in a little of everything– but mostly politics and science.”
“That’s a rather vague answer,” I comment and take a sip of whiskey. It burns a fiery trail down my throat.
“Why bore you with mundane details?” he asks and moves closer. “There are other, far more interesting things we could be doing. Don’t you agree?” He trails a hand up my arm, snaking his fingers around my biceps, and pulling me closer.
Just as I’m trying to figure out how to get out of this icky situation, a loud, thunderous pounding at the door fills the air. Bart narrows his eyes. “Expecting someone?” he asks me.
I shrug my shoulder and watch as he goes over and opens the door. A fuming, red-faced Kane fills the entire doorway. If he were green, he’d look exactly like the Incredible Hulk.Uh oh. Time to go.
I set my glass down, neatly swipe a plastic keycard off a side table, and hurry forward. “Hello, Lyle,” I say easily. “What do you need?”
Kane’s nostrils flare. “I need you to come with me.Now.”
“Oh, right,” I say, playing the airhead card again. “We have to meet that potential investor. I totally forgot. So sorry.” I turn to Bart and muster up an apologetic grin with a little self-deprecating giggle. “I need to go, but maybe later-”
Whoa.I feel myself getting yanked backwards, practically ripped out of the room, and slam into Kane’s unyielding body.
“Mysisteris off-limits,” Kane snarls, teeth gnashing. Before I can respond, he pulls me toward the elevator, but I dig my heels into the carpet.
He lets go enough that I can turn to face him. We must make quite the picture, me glaring at him, hands on my hips in my green dress. Him, fuming, face red, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“Excuse me,” I hiss. “But I don’t appreciate being manhandled.”
“Apparently you need to be.”
