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She’s wearing light wash jeans and a white cropped t-shirt, her shiny black hair pulled up in a high ponytail, and what looks like no makeup except a thin dark line around her eyes and a dusting of mascara. Her lips are a soft rose shade without the lipstick she wears at the club, and I have a sudden, deep ache to press mine against them. I’ve never seen a woman’s mouth look so soft and inviting.
There’s a book in front of her on the table, and I take that moment to drink in the sight of her, knowing that as soon as she sees me, I have to be the professional she expects, and not the man standing here aching for a woman he shouldn’t touch—and will never get to, to hear her say it.
It’s tempting to just stand there and look at her, but I can’t do it forever. I walk towards her table, clearing my throat as I approach, and Asha looks up. For one brief second, as she registers that it’s me, I see her dark eyes widen, a flicker of desire that matches mine heating her gaze as she takes me in—dark jeans and black t-shirt, motorcycle boots, and leather jacket, my most comfortable clothing.
And then her face smooths over, and she gives me a pleasant smile that doesn’t betray in the least what she might have been thinking with that first glance.
“Finn.” She closes the book and slips it into her purse before I can see what it is that she was reading. “Right on time. What a good boy.”
There’s a teasing note in her voice, and I feel my face heat instantly—which irritates me, because I know it’sexactlythe rise she was hoping to get out of me. It’s even more aggravating because the heat in my cheeks isn’t the only thing rising at the sound of her husky voice saying those ridiculous words to me. The last fucking thing I want is an erection in the middle of this coffee shop.
“I see you already got a drink.” I motion to her coffee cup as I sit down, an actual mug that she’s only taken a few sips from, the foam still floating atop it. “Anything you recommend?”
“Depends on what you like.” She reaches for it, and the sight of her lips pressed to the edge is enough to make me dizzy. She knows exactly what she’s doing, too, from the way her dark eyes meet mine.
You said we needed to be professional about this.I want to snap it at her, growl out the words, but that would mean admitting that she’s getting to me—which I’m pretty certain is what she wants.
She’s going to be the death of me, I’m sure of it. And I’m starting to wonder if this was the right path to take after all.
“I’m a coffee man, myself.” Hers smells like praline and vanilla, and all I can think about is that I’d taste it on her tongue if I kissed her right now.
“Let me guess,” she says archly, rolling her eyes a little as she sets down her cup. “Black, like your soul.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” I narrow my own at her. “I like to think I’m a decent sort of man, actually.”
“You work for the Irish Kings.” She laughs shortly. “Anyone who works for those sorts of organizations can’t be a decent man. Not really. You can try, but they’ll always squeeze it out of you.”
Thatdoes earn her a raised eyebrow. “Is that what you think of Nikolai?” I ask curiously. “That he’s not a decent man?”
Her lips tighten, and I see the tension suddenly in her shoulders, sparking another of those idiotic flares of jealousy in me. Whatever passed between them, she’s not entirely over it, and I wonder if she thinks of him the way I was thinking of her last night, when I tried to go home with Claire. If he’s in her head whenever she tries to enjoy another man.
“I don’t know if this is a conversation we should be having.” Asha’s lips press together harder, whitening against her pale skin. “You offered me a job, Finn. We’re here to talk about that.”
“He’s your boss. You work for a man that you don’t consider decent?”
“I’m here considering working for your Kings, aren’t I?” She tilts her chin up. “All because you offered me money I couldn’t refuse. So tell me, Finn, how is that going to be paid out? A little at a time, or are you going to make me work in hopes of a lump sum?”
“Of course not. I hoped you thought better of me than that.”
“I don’t know you.” Asha’s voice is flat. “Go grab yourself a coffee, Finn, and let me think for a minute.”
I don’t know what to feel as I walk to the counter and order something off the menu, so lost in thought that I barely know what I pick. Part of me knows it would be better if she just refuses. Working with her would clearly be difficult enough, even without the added sexual tension, and that just makes it all so much harder—literally. I shift uncomfortably as I stand at the counter, wondering how it is that she can turn me back into a teenage boy unable to control his own arousal with nothing but a look and a purse of those soft, full lips in my direction.
But I don’t want her to refuse. I want to spend the next days and weeks—hell,monthsif it takes that long—watching over her and listening to her smart mouth and outrageous flirtations and seeing those liquid dark eyes light up for even a second with the desire that she keeps trying to hide.Maybe I am a masochist after all,I think grimly as I take the cup of coffee and return to the table. Spending time with Asha is the sweetest kind of torture, and I suspect she’s enjoying every moment of it. A part of me thinks she might enjoy tormenting me more than actually being with me, andthatpart wants to throw her over my shoulder and haul her straight back to my bed, just so I can show her how good it could be if she gave in.
I’m a better man than that, though—a better man than she thinks I am, and not one who would ever act on that kind of desire.
“Tell me how the pay works,” Asha says when I sit back down. “I want everything clear, out on the table, so I know what I’m getting into and what to expect.”
Her voice is flat, all business, her expression cool as she looks at me. I take a sip of my own coffee and try to fight a grimace—it tastes like berries and chocolate, far too sweet for my taste. I can’t imagine why that’s what I picked off of the menu for myself. I really must have been out of it.
But then again, Asha seems to have that effect on me.
“Every time you see Matvei, we’ll pay your usual rate plus twenty percent,” I tell her. “At the end, when the job is done, we’ll give you the difference of that from the amount I quoted you at the club—that part in a lump sum. And if you get enough information, who knows? Maybe you’ll get a bonus.” I say the last part almost as a joke, but Asha raises an eyebrow.
“What’s your idea of a bonus, Finn?” There’s something sultry in her voice, and I know she’s fucking with me again.
“That’d be up to my boss.”God,it’s hard not to flirt back with her. But I’ve already seen just how quickly she can back me into a corner—both literally and figuratively—and I almost wonder if she’s testing me, seeing if Icanbehave professionally around her. I’m determined to prove to her that I can.
