Barely Undercover: Legal Heat Book 2(106)

The first heavy, fat drops of rain began to fall, heralding the start of a tropical downpour.

“You should get undercover,” he said. “You’re going to get wet.”

She turned, those incredible eyes a flash of blue through pale, silvery lashes. “Thanks. But I’m okay.” Her mouth curved and he couldn’t help noticing the shape of it. Full, pouty. Beautiful. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

There was a warmth to her smile. A warmth he found inexplicably fascinating. “Are you sure? The rain can get heavy here.”

Another lightning flash ripped across the sky. Her eyes glittered like lit sapphires. “Yeah, I know.” Her smile widened, the brilliance of it a burst of sunshine in the midst of the storm around them. “Thanks for the warning, though.”

Heat gathered inside him. A spear of something so intense he almost couldn’t breathe.

He wanted her.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. In two days he had his first game and he’d always been a purist when it came to chess preparation. No sex. No alcohol. Nothing that would take his focus from the game. And he’d already overstepped the mark by having the vodka. Sex would only make it worse.

Aleks nodded to her instead and turned away, walking toward the steps. He found it oddly difficult, as if a part of him was reluctant to leave her behind. Strange. He’d never been so drawn to a woman before, and he couldn’t work out why. Her appearance had caught his attention, no doubt about it, but there’d been something else about her. Her smile. The look in her eyes…

No, best not to think about it. Women were complicated. In fact, people in general were complicated, and he preferred to keep his life free of complications. Chess was the only thing he had room for. Chess was simple. Logical. With clearly defined rules. You always knew where you were on a chessboard. At least he always did.

As he walked up the steps, the rain began to get heavier, and he only just managed to get through the glass doors that led to the elevators before a full-on tropical downpour ensued.

He turned, looking out through the glass across the rooftop to see if the woman had followed him. Apparently not. Her tall figure stood among the wet dining tables and artfully planted rooftop gardens, her face turned toward the sky, eyes closed.

Water streamed over her, soaking her clothes, making them stick to her body, outlining the gentle curve of perfect breasts, narrow waist, slender hips and thighs. Her cloud of hair had become a straight, silver waterfall down her back. Soon she was wet through. But that didn’t seem to bother her.

As he watched, her head tilted farther back, her beautiful mouth turning up in a small, secret smile. Then she stuck out a small, pink tongue, licking the rain from her lips. A childish action but there was nothing childish about the sensuality with which she did it.

Desire kicked hard inside him.

He watched her. Riveted.

She seemed to come to herself after a minute, blinking up into the sky. Then she looked down and shook her head. Her smile turned wistful then faded as an echo of sadness crossed her face. Of regret.

The tightness in his chest twisted in a helpless, inexplicable response.

As if she’d felt him watching her, she turned her head and looked straight at him.

Electric blue hit him full in the chest, crackled through him, ripped him apart like the lightning had ripped apart the sky, lit him up from the inside out.

As if something inside him recognised her. Wanted her. Needed her.

On any other night, at any other time, he would have ignored the feeling. Dismissed it.

But tonight Viktor was dead, and the vodka hadn’t done a thing.