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Adele
With my heart tapping wildly against my ribcage, I dashed off to the bathroom, hoping the interloper would be convinced by my helpless act. Even if he wasn’t, finding nothing but my fake ID, my phone, and some cash in my purse should convince him. I didn’t trust my own pickpocketing skills enough to try and slip his wallet from his ridiculously well-fitting jeans, but I knew another operative when I spotted one. Especially when said operative showed up at the same time as a huge break in my case.
And I would be damned if I was going to let some American cowboy ruin three years of undercover work because he’d made me at a damn bar.
When my dress was dry enough, if no less sticky, I headed back to the bar a little bit more level-headed. The American was no longer where I’d left him, and our seats were already occupied by others. I scanned the room until my gaze met his. With a cocky lift of his eyebrow, he gestured to the empty chair across from him at the small table he’d apparently commandeered while I was in the bathroom.
I patted my side, as if checking for my bag and was alarmed to find it gone. I snapped my head toward the bar then back to him. He held the black string between two fingers, my bag swinging freely in the air. After a deep sigh to show I was relieved to have found it, I joined him, settling into the chair opposite him.
“You should really be more careful with your things.”
The low, teasing tone sent a shiver down my spine. Not because he was flirting with me, but because of what lurked beneath the surface of his words. A warning, not unlike what I was used to hearing from the Doms at the club I frequented between assignments.
It had obviously been far too long since I’d been able to scene if a stranger at a bar was able to have such an effect on me.
“Merci,” I said, allowing my voice to go a little breathless as though he’d just rescued me from certain doom. “I never leave my purse laying around. I do not know what is wrong with me tonight.” Accepting the bag as he handed it to me, I popped it open and searched, more for the show of it than any real concern he’d taken anything.
Leaning back against his seat, the corner of his mouth kicked up in a smirk as he watched me inspect the contents. “I didn’t steal anything, sweetheart.”
“Oh!” I allowed a blush to warm my cheeks. “No, no, I would never… I apologize for any offense,” I finished demurely, lowering my eyes to his chest and swallowing the bit of bile that rose in my throat from the overly submissive behavior.
“None taken. But how much have you had to drink tonight?”
Despite my best efforts, my temper flared, and I lifted my head to glare at him. “Unlike a certain cocky American, I know my limits.”
Lifting his hands in a time-honored gesture of surrender, he sent me a relaxed smile. “Easy, sweetheart. I was just wondering since you said it’s not like you to leave your purse laying around. My mama raised me to look out for the ladies in my life and at the moment, you qualify.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to argue that I wasn’t a lady, and I could take care of myself. But I remembered my role just in time and forced what I hoped passed for a sheepish smile. “I apologize, again. I have had a hard day and I am feeling, how do you say, out of sorts? But I should not have lashed out at you when you have been so kind.”
There was a good bit of truth to the apology. Giorgio was a trying man on any given day, but he’d been particularly vexing lately. And even with the new intel earlier today, my operation had all but stalled, which left me feeling frustrated and irritable.
I did not, however, feel the least bit bad about snapping at him.
“No hard feelings, sweetheart.” The American nudged a tumbler of whiskey closer to me. “I took the liberty of ordering you another drink, if you’re interested.”
Letting a coy smile curve my lips, I lifted the glass in a toast. “Interested in a drink with a handsome man? How could I say no?”
He matched my gesture with a toast of his own and we both sipped in unison. The burn of the whiskey as it slid down my throat had me questioning again why I frequented this particular bar. I loved a good whiskey, but nothing they served here could be called “good” whiskey.
“I’m Cole, by the way.” That cocky smile flashed again, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to toss my drink in his face. Did that really work for him? Were there women out there who actually found it charming?
There probably were, and “Adele” would likely be one of them, so I gave him another pretty, flirty smile. “Adele.”
“Beautiful.”
Okay, maybe the American charm had some merit, judging by how my stomach flipped at that single word. “Merci.”
“So, Adele. What do you like to do for fun, other than torture men in seedy bars?”
“I am not torturing anyone!”
“Please.” His gaze swept over my body, lingering on the shoulder left bare by the dress. I swore I could feel the heat of it on my skin, as if he’d physically touched me. “We both know there isn’t a man in this room who stands a chance with you, even though every single one of them would give their right nut for an hour of your time.”
“And you? What would you give?” Alarm bells rang in the back of my mind, telling me to back off. Going off with the cowboy or bringing him home with me was far more dangerous than a simple flirtation in a bar.
Then again, if I could convince him to take me back to whatever seedy hotel he’d shacked up in, perhaps I could learn more about him. At least figure out what agency he was with. And if I got a few half-decent orgasms out of the deal, well, it was about time my job came with a few… benefits.
Ignoring the alarm bells, I leaned into the flirtation, figuratively and literally. Cole mirrored my stance, moving in until our lips were a breath apart.
“Come back to my place and I’ll show you.”
It had either been far too long since I’d last spent the night with a man, or I’d vastly underestimated the American’s charm. His words sent a shiver down my spine, straight to the pulsing heat between my thighs. I’d been on the fence about actually leaving with him, but I leapt straight over it in that moment.
“All right. Show me, cowboy.”
