The stats that she’d memorized about him snapped quickly into her brain: Thirty-one-year-old male, blond hair, gray eyes, six foot one inches, exemplary military record in the Special Forces until some kind of accident had required him to leave the military with an honorable discharge. Maddeningly, she hadn’t been able to get too much more information on Tate. He was a billionaire—like every other damn Colter in the family—and was the driving force that had made Colter Fire Equipment the biggest producer of firefighting and fire safety gear in the world. The company was under the Colter conglomerate, but Tate had made it his personal mission to manufacture more sophisticated equipment than any other corporation, had been the man to drive the company into the stratosphere of success. She hadn’t found anything negative in his information. Hell, he was even a volunteer firefighter.
Lara eyed him warily as he moved to the other side of the small table. He looked harmless enough. In fact, he looked amazing in real life—better than his pictures. His blond locks were still as short as they’d been in the photos she’d viewed, but he had a serious case of bedhead today, and some of his hair spiked in various directions. Lara was willing to bet the messy look had come from a hat considering it was the dead of winter in Colorado, and she grudgingly admitted that she kind of liked the fact that he wasn’t vain enough to fix it. The just-rolled-out-of-bed look of his hair, and the dimple she could see as he shot her an unassuming grin, made him dangerously attractive.
I’ve seen better-looking men. The defensive thought popped into her head, probably because of the shiver of awareness that slithered down her spine as she looked at Tate Colter. She had seen men more conventionally attractive, but none quite as compelling as the man she currently surveyed cautiously. Dressed casually in jeans, boots, and a green sweatshirt, he should have looked ordinary and drab in his surroundings, but he didn’t. Lara knew she needed to proceed with caution no matter how unassuming or nice he appeared to be. Tate Colter had a genius IQ, just like the rest of his siblings. His unassuming smile and boyish grin hid a mind that was assessing her, just as surely as she was checking him out and evaluating his motives.
“I don’t accept drinks from strange men anyway,” she told him standoffishly. She didn’t really want him to go away right now. He might be able to provide her with some information, but she didn’t want to encourage him either. Marcus Colter was her main interest, but his brother might be able to help her find him.
Tate took the wooden chair, turned it around, and straddled it as he made his enormously fit, muscular body comfortable across from her. “Then I guess we need to get to know each other,” he answered in a self-confident tone, as though she was obviously going to comply and fall at his feet in gratitude.#p#分页标题#e#
Arrogant lug!
Lara made her expression stay neutral. “Maybe I don’t want to know you. Maybe I’m married or have a boyfriend,” she hedged.
Tate shrugged. “I didn’t say I wanted to fuck you. I just said I wanted to get to know you.” He rested his forearms on the back of the chair, still grinning at her mischievously. “Tate Colter.” He held his hand out to her over the table. “You looked lonely over here all by yourself.”
“Lara.” She reluctantly shook his hand quickly and drew her arm back to her side, intentionally giving him as little information as possible. His hands were rough and callused; he didn’t have the soft, manicured fingers she’d expect from a billionaire. In fact, he wasn’t anything like she’d expected an ultra-wealthy guy to be. He seemed so…earthy, more of an outdoor, active guy than a man who would be perfectly comfortable in a custom suit in a boardroom.
In all likelihood, he’s comfortable just about anywhere.
Unfortunately, there were only certain social situations where she felt at home, and just that brief, casual contact with Tate had set off a spark of electricity that raced down her spine.
“I wasn’t and am not the least bit lonely. I came here to…think,” she said hastily. “Alone.”
Tate looked around doubtfully. “This isn’t exactly a peaceful thinking place, or a good spot to be alone with your thoughts.”
Damn. No, it wasn’t. The bar was crowded, noisy, and anything but a place to think. It was a venue to socialize.
“Maybe I just wanted to sit here by myself for a while,” she said impatiently, wanting to get any information that would be useful to her and get away from his smoky, probing gray eyes that hadn’t seemed to leave her face since he sat down. He made her uncomfortable in a way that she’d never been with a guy before. She’d been with plenty of not-so-nice, attractive men, but it wasn’t an evil vibe she got from Tate Colter. It was more like…sinful.