Risky Engagement. Merline Lovelace

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СКАЧАТЬ array of bottles.

      “Over there.”

      Grasping Nina’s elbow, the stranger steered her toward a just-vacated table with an unobstructed view of the marina. The sudden and totally unexpected sizzle that radiated up her bare arm flustered her so much she barely took in the sea of gleaming white sailboats.

      “I’m Rafe,” he said by way of introduction. “Rafe Blackstone.”

      “Nina. Uh, Grant.”

      Oh, for pity’s sake! The heat must have gotten to her more than she’d realized. Bad enough she’d given in to the impulse to have a drink with a man who looked like a cross between a movie stud and a hood. One touch, and said stud came close to finishing what the sun had started. She was practically melting under her linen sundress.

      It had to be that dark stubble on his cheeks and chin. Or the way his black T-shirt stretched across a taut, flat belly when he leaned back in his chair and unfolded his long legs. Or the slow, considering look he gave her through a screen of ridiculously thick lashes that any woman would have killed for.

      Whatever it was, Nina responded in a way she’d never responded before to any male, Kevin included. A delicious spark of heat licked at her veins, and she could feel the muscles low in her belly tighten. Surprised and not a little flustered by her reaction, she removed her sunglasses and tipped the man seated across from her another polite smile.

      “Where’s home, Rafe?”

      “Here and there. Mostly San Diego these days.

      You?”

      “Albuquerque.”

      “What do you do there?”

      Before she could answer, a waiter materialized at their table. She ordered a margarita on the rocks, her companion a Dos Equis.

      “I own and operate a company that digitizes medical data,” she said when the waiter retreated.

      “That so?” He arched a brow. “Given the president’s push to computerize the medical profession, your business must be thriving.”

      “It is … now. We had some lean years when we first started out,” she admitted wryly. “Hospitals weren’t exactly anxious to share patient data. Plus, we had to make sure we didn’t violate privacy laws. We got our foot in the door by trending data from local sources and providing it to medical facilities and research facilities across the state.” A touch of pride crept into her voice. “We now harvest information from more than three thousand sources, analyze the input, and supply trends to a host of private and governmental medical research centers across the U.S.”

      “Only the U.S.?”

      His slouch was the epitome of lazy relaxation, but his obvious interest reassured Nina. She always worried about boring folks with her passion for what she did. Or worse, lapsing into so much technical jargon that she lost her listeners completely.

      “We still have to work within privacy laws,” she said, “but I’m hoping to go international soon.”

      The seemingly casual comment put a sudden kink in Wolf’s gut. The woman wanted to go international, did she? With the help of Sebastian Cordell, aka Stephen Caulder, aka a half-dozen other aliases?

      Or was she after the sensitive, top-secret information Cordell had stolen and intended to auction to the highest bidder? Had she staged her vehicle’s breakdown? Used it as an entree into Cordell’s heavily guarded compound? Was she that good?

      Wolf was still trying to decide when the waiter delivered their drinks. The man placed two frosted glasses in front of Grant and earned a surprised look.

      “I didn’t order two drinks.”

      “This is happy hour, señorita. You order one, I bring two.”

      “But …”

      “Same price. No problem.”

      She gave in with a shrug and a smile.

      Wolf had to give her credit. She had that polite half smile down pat. Friendly, but with just enough reserve in it to keep a man at a proper distance.

      Nina Grant didn’t know it yet, he thought grimly, but the two of them were about to get up close and very personal.

      The muscles low in his belly tightened at the prospect. This is what he did. What he’d done now for almost ten years. Why he kept to himself and trusted no one outside his immediate circle of friends and fellow agents. Over the years, he’d locked horns with too many men and women who’d crossed the line. In more than one instance, it was kill or be killed.

      In this one…

      He didn’t have a fix on Nina Grant yet, and the uncertainty scraped on his nerves. Extracting the lime wedge from the neck of his beer, he tipped the bottle in her direction.

      “Here’s to international cooperation.”

      She clinked her frosted glass against the bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”

      He let the lager slide down his throat, watching while she licked some salt from the rim before taking a sip of her drink. The small act was completely natural, the way most people tasted a margarita—and disturbingly provocative. Wolf’s belly tightened another notch as he followed the movement of her tongue.

      Come on, he urged silently. Drink the damn thing.

      He knew from experience that two-for-one happy hour drinks at most Cabo San Lucas dives were usually so watered down you couldn’t even taste the booze in them. The Purple Parrot, however, had a reputation to maintain. That’s why he’d chosen it. Another double round, and he’d have Nina Grant singing like a tanked-up canary.

      “How long have you lived in Albuquerque?” he asked to get the ball rolling.

      “I got a job there after grad school and decided to stay. I love the climate. The people. The mountains. The incredible sunsets. Seems I’ve spent almost as much time traveling recently as I have at home, though. I almost cringe when I have to get on a plane these days.”

      Wolf pumped her for information, subtly, smoothly, and hid a smile of satisfaction when she took another taste of her drink.

      “Whew! This is potent.”

      “Not that potent. It goes down easier after the first few sips.”

      “I’ll bet.” Her nose wrinkling, she set the glass aside. “It’s hitting my empty stomach like a sledgehammer. I’d better stop with this one and head to my hotel.”

      So much for his plan to get her sloshed. No matter. He wasn’t about to let her wiggle out of his net now.

      “So let me buy you dinner.”

Chapter 2

      Nina blinked at Blackstone’s unexpected invitation. An automatic refusal formed on СКАЧАТЬ