Lover At Last(165)

Getting out, she planted her boots in the snow, put her hand inside her parka on the butt of her gun, and shut the door with her hip. As she marched up to that back entrance, she made eye contact with the roofline.

There had to be security cameras up there.

She didn’t bother to ring the doorbell or knock on the door. He would know she was here. And he if he wasn’t home? Well, then she’d think of a nice little calling card of some sort to leave him.

Maybe a security alarm that went off? An open window or cupboard?

Or something missing from inside…

The door opened and there he was, live and in person—exactly as he had been the night before, and yet, as ever, somehow taller, more dangerous, and sexier than she remembered.

“Isn’t this a bit obvious for you?” he drawled.

He was dressed in a dark suit of some designer variety—and the thing had to have been hand-tailored as well, given the way it fit him so perfectly.

“I’m here to set something straight,” she said.

“And you appear to want to dictate terms.” As if this were a quaint idea. “Anything else? Did you happen to bring dinner? I’m hungry.”

“Are you going to let me in, or do you want to do this in the cold?”

“Is your hand on a weapon, by any chance?”

“Of course it is.”

“In that case, do come in.”

As he stepped aside, she rolled her eyes. Why the fact that she could shoot him would encourage the man to let her into his house was a mystery—

Sola froze as she looked into a modern kitchen. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder were two men who were identical images of each other. They were also as big as the man she’d come for, just as dangerous—and they each had a gun in their hand.

They had to be the ones who’d been with him under the bridge.

The door clapped shut, and even though her adrenal glands let out a burst of warning, she kept the reaction to herself.

The one she had come to see smiled as he brushed past her. “These are my associates.”

“I want to speak with you alone.”

The man eased back against a granite counter, put a cigar between his teeth, and lit it with a gold lighter. As he clipped the top shut, he exhaled a puff of blue smoke and looked over at her. “Gentlemen, will you excuse us for a moment.”

The twin Mr. Happys didn’t look pleased with the dismissal. Then again, you could probably have tried to give them both a winning lottery ticket and they would have eaten your hand clean off your wrist. Just on principle.

They did walk off, however, moving in a synchronized way that was highly unsettling.

“Where’d you find that pair?” she asked dryly. “The Internet?”

“It’s amazing what one can secure on eBay.”

Abruptly, she cut the crap: “I want you to stop following me.”

The man took a pull on that cigar, the fat end glowing bright orange. “Do you.”

“You’ve got no reason to. I’m not going to come here again—in any capacity.”

“Really.”

“You have my word.”

There was nothing Sola hated more than admitting defeat—and disengaging from the surveillance of this guy and his property was a kind of quitting. But that run-in last night, while she’d been on a date with an innocent bystander, for godsakes, had told her things were getting out of control. She was perfectly capable of playing cat and mouse—she did it all the time in her profession. With this man, however? There was no ultimate goal to be won; no payday awaiting her for information gathered; no intention for her to rob him.

And the stakes were escalating.

Especially if they ever kissed again—because she doubted she would stop it, and the definition of stupid was sleeping with someone like him.

“Your word?” he said. “And exactly how much is that worth.”

“It’s all I have to offer you.”

His eyes, those laser beams, narrowed on her mouth. “I’m not so certain of that.”

His accent and that deep, delicious voice turned the syllables into a caress—something that she could almost feel on her skin.

Which was precisely why she was doing this. “You’ve got no reason to follow me. Effective right now.”

“Mayhap I like the view.” As his eyes traveled down her body, another shock went through her, but not the anxious kind. “Yes, I find that I do. Tell me something, did you enjoy your evening out? Food to your liking? Companionship…to your liking?”

“I’m stopping this tonight. You’re not going to see me again.”

As that was all she had to say, she went to turn away.

“Do you honestly think it ends here between you and me?”