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Deuce made no move toward her but watched her walk across the tile of the rotunda.
And so did every other man in the joint.
But Anna didn’t seem to notice.
The women did, though, and glared at her in turn.
Deuce smirked. Anna obviously had no clue what she was packing.
Dangerous curves on a lithe dancer’s body. Hair so red she could lure sailors to their deaths. And an ass….. Well, he stopped right there.
His president’s woman and all.
Which explained his presence lurking in the shadows of the stairwell and his intent to see her safely back to her office.
Just when he was about to step out from the marble structure, she glanced over her shoulder and stopped.
Then she turned and headed his way, the traffic of the main floor parting for her like the Red Sea.
Anna made face to face and stopped, flipping her shades, wayfarers he thought they were called, to the top of her head.
“Hey, Deuce,” she said, her voice pitched low enough to be called a whisper.
“What’s doing, A?” he said.
“I think that should be my line,” Anna countered. “You didn’t ride out with the rest of them?”
“Curious,” Deuce went on, ignoring the question. “What made you turn around?”
Anna shrugged a shoulder, “I smelled biker. It’s a sixth sense.”
“Bullshit,” Deuce said.
Anna rolled her eyes, “Fine. I caught the reflection in the glass windows and recognized the cut.”
“You hoping I was someone else?” Deuce asked on a grin.
Anna cocked her free hand on her hip, “Actually, no. I was hoping it was you so that I could thank you properly.”
Deuce’s grin faded and he shook his head, “No thanks needed.”
“I’m not sure Jeff would have come without you guys. The arrest matters, but not as much as that little boy, and y’all gave him some of himself back. Whether you meant to or not.”
Deuce motioned toward the front entrance, and Anna fell in beside him. “Hawthorne’s gonna fry that motherfucker.”
Anna looked up with a frown, “How do you know?”
Now it was Deuce’s turn to shrug. “Just got a feeling.”
She tilted her head to study him, “You know something I don’t?”
They hit the front doors, and Deuce held the glass open for her.
When she passed in front of him, he caught a whiff of her perfume. Sophisticated. Spicy. Like the woman, he thought. Complicated.
The phone in Anna’s bag saved Deuce from having to answer.
She stopped to fish it out of her case, so Deuce stopped with her.
