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The sensation of eyes on me burns the side of my face, and when I turn, there’s a man in a tuxedo staring. A—I swallow over the lump in the back of my throat. Averyhandsome man with dark hair, scruff on his lean jaw, and a furrowed brow. His hands are in the pocket of his jacket, and instead of offering a smile once I meet his eyes, he does nothing. Immovable.
I ignore him as my turn in line approaches.
“Are you sure the earpiece is going to pass this? There are a lot of big dudes with guns here, and I am definitely underdressed,” I panic mumble to Wes in my ear.
“Try not to stress yourself out. You’ll sweat.”
“Of course I’m sweating. What do you think?”
“I think we have the right person for the job, and everything is going to be fine,Natasha.” Wes emphasizes the name. “Moretti would never be nervous in this situation. She’d breeze right past the guards and probably flirt with them, if only to have her boyfriend slit them asshole to navel while she watches.”
“You’re disgusting,” I whisper hiss.
I hardly realize Mister Dark Handsome is at my side until he grabs me roughly by the arm. The last bits of air explode from my lungs with a squeak, and I almost topple over as he pulls me back toward the outside door.
“Don’t say a word.” At once I’m at his side, his mouth pressed against my temple, he utters his warning in a voice so low, I feel it in my bones. “You understand? Mouth shut, and you’ll be okay.”
His warmth seeps into me immediately, along with the strong musky scent of his cologne.
I’m caught.
Already.
I’m going to die.
I open my mouth to argue with him since we’re already out the door onto the street, but the guy moves fast, practically lifting me and keeping me at his hip to get me to hurry.
“Hush.” He utters the warning again, the demand barked. This time, the swirling in my stomach isn’t from nerves alone. The scent, the look on this face, the proximity…how long has it been since I’d last been fucked stupid? He’s so much taller than me, the kind of height you know has muscle to match.
He slides his hand down from my elbow to my palm and grips me tightly, his thumb stroking over my skin. My breath catches in my chest, and he backs me against the wall, caging me between body and brick, making sure I have nowhere to go without going through him first.
This is the time toinsert sexy flirtatious phrase here. Something Natasha would say.
My brain is nothing but mush in his presence.
He drops his head beside mine, our lips inches apart. “You are never going to get in there with your gun.”
My jaw drops, and I blink, struggling to meet his eyes. They’re dark, fathomless, the soul behind them visible to me in a flash, and I shudder. A small smirk plays across his full lips, as though he’s enjoying the way I respond to his touch.
The stranger takes a step forward and pins me further with his hips. I need to deny it.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can smell the nerves on you.” He bares his teeth at me. “You reek of cop. Did you really think you’d be able to make it inside without someone spotting you? You might as well have worn a sign above your head.”
“I’m not a—”
He grabs my purse and roughly yanks it out of my grip, flicking through the few things I have in there until he finds the specialized gun. “Nice try.”
My breath catches and completely disintegrates in my lungs when he runs the nozzle of the gun against my lips, pressing with just enough force to get me to open for him.
“Are you the kind of woman who gets off on handling a gun?” He drags the edge of it around my mouth before chucking it off toward a sewer grate with a clatter. “Doesn’t matter what kind of weapons you’re packing, sweetheart. The metal detectors are only the first step. There are several layers of security, and one look inside your purse would have given you away.”
He runs his free hand along my waist, down to the flair of my hip and back up, settling his hot, very large palm on my ribcage. My god, he’s huge compared, like a monster cornering a mouse.
My heart nearly beats out of my chest in an attempt to get to his hand as my nipples peak.
“Are you going to kill me?” I manage to ask.
