Those lush lips parted. “Your room,” she repeated.

He leaned in closer. “Some things are better done in private. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Seconds ticked by, and the air thickened, charged. There was more to this woman than met the eye, and he found himself wanting to discover every inch of that more, and then some. “My boss did stress discretion,” she finally said, her voice just a bit breathless.

“Well then,” he drawled. “Let’s be sure and give it to him.” He tossed money on the table and pushed to his feet, before offering her his hand to help her up.

She stared at his hand a moment, playing the cat and mouse game, oh so well. She wasn’t a mouse though, this one. More like a wildcat, he was willing to bet, and looking forward to finding out.

She retrieved her things before standing up, ignoring his offer of help. “Lead the way, Mr. Wright.”

Oh, he intended to. If she was willing to sell her body and soul to a murdering monster for a paycheck, he wasn’t going to feel guilty about using her for everything she might have to offer.

The exchange...

They stepped onto the elevator alone, and his little would-be good-girl secretary that wasn’t, turned her back to the right wall to face him. Blake punched in the floor of their destination and leaned casually against the wall. She was wearing a thin dress and it was winter in Denver, Colorado. Where was her coat?

A couple pushed into the car just before the doors shut, separating the two of them, then backing against the wall so that they could still make eye contact. He sized up the couple – middle aged, corporate types – both wearing wedding rings he didn’t think they gave each other. He dismissed them as no threat almost immediately, refocusing on Tiffany – if that was really her name.

They might not be alone but the awareness was there between them nevertheless, that charge he’d already felt in the air intensifying with each passing second in a way he hadn’t experienced with a woman in far too long. Why it was this one he didn’t know, but he figured it was simply the high of how close he was to Alvarez. Finally, he’d found his mockery of a corporate shell, and he was inches from locating him.

Two floors passed and the elevator doors opened. Blake motioned to the newfound informant, who didn’t know that’s what she was about to be, silently letting her know this was their floor. She pushed off the wall and headed into the hallway. He joined her, resisting the urge to touch her. Not yet. Soon. Very soon.

“I’m at the end of the hall,” he commented.

“Of course,” she said quietly.

He cut her a sideways look. “Of course?”

“I’ve never known anyone to be at the door by the elevator,” she supplied. “Have you?”

He shrugged. “I never gave it much thought.” But he had. The location of the elevator for fast escape was always a consideration, as was the long walk to what was likely a one night stand, in which you question how smart your actions were. Only he wasn’t questioning any such thing. She was, though. Where she’d been cool and confident before, he sensed barely contained nerves that didn’t quite match the persona beneath the exterior he’d assumed. What was it about this woman that didn’t quite compute as right? And why the hell did he suddenly want to comfort her? He resisted the urge to scrub his jaw, aware of her beside him, of the feminine, alluring way she moved. Of the soft scent of some sort of flower – jasmine or honeysuckle – or some sweet something he’d never liked until now.

At the end of the hall, they stopped at his door to a room he’d intentionally had changed in case the original one had been bugged. Not that he couldn’t debug or defunct anything electronic he chose to, but safe was always better than sorry.

Impatience wasn’t a trait he favored, but his blood ran hot for this woman and his hand moved quickly to swipe the key. On some level, he recognized this was an invitation for trouble. He shoved the idea away as ridiculous as he opened the hotel door and motioned her forward. She didn’t hesitate. In fact, she rushed forward, seeming eager to get out of the hallway.

Blake shut the door behind him, sauntering into the room to find her tossing her purse and briefcase on the typical luxury room high back chair by the window. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it on the king sized bed separating them. “You have my money?”

“I’ll need to review the file.”

He crossed the room, stopping at the desk and pulled the chair out, putting them within a few steps of each other. Blake opened the drawer and removed the file, setting it on top of the desk. He tapped the top of it. “Now you show me yours. Full exposure at the same time.”

Her lashes lowered, and he could almost hear her thinking about her next move, before her brown eyes met his and for just an instant he saw trepidation in her eyes. She blinked and it was gone, but he’d seen it, recognized it for the hesitation and fear that it was, and silently cursed. Holy hell. He was her first gig like this. She wasn’t even sure this was where she belonged but something made her desperate enough to do this. Fuck me. He was going to try and save her.

“All right,” she said, and she reached for her briefcase but instead of removing the file, she carried it with her towards him. She stopped at the chair and set it down, but didn’t reach for the file. Instead, she stepped around the chair, close to him.

Blake didn’t wait for her to act. He pulled her to him, and maneuvered her against the wall. “Why are you here?”