“Yeah,” Kat said. “I just bet you will.” She winked at me, then bopped away. I watched her get swallowed up by the crowd, grateful to have a moment to gather myself. When I turned back to Tyler, I saw that he hadn’t taken the same opportunity. He was still focused entirely on me.
“Alone at last,” he said.
I shifted my weight, not liking the way this man unnerved me. I was a detective, for Christ’s sake. I ate suspects for breakfast, and my bad cop skills in interviews were worthy of an Academy Award. I’d never worked undercover, though, and I suddenly had all sorts of respect for my peers who put on the mask and held tight to their secrets.
Then again, I was no stranger to masks or secrets. I could do this. And as if to prove it to myself, I looked up at him through my lashes, hoping the effect was as sexy as I imagined. “Should I be nervous? A man like you looking for me.”
“A man like me?” His voice was low. Enticing. “Interesting. So tell me—what am I like?”
I stepped closer to him, lifted my hand as if I was going to touch him, then pulled it back with a slightly embarrassed expression. “Tempting,” I said, and though the word was calculated, it was also very true.
“Am I?” He looked pointedly at my hands. “And that makes you nervous?”
“That? No.” I drew in a breath as I considered my next move and, as in chess, where that move would take me. “I’m pretty good at resisting temptation.”
“Are you?” He leaned in, his mouth so close to my ear I felt the whisper of his breath on my hair. “I’m not. As far as I’m concerned, giving in to temptation is one of the few true pleasures in life.”
Oh, my. A hot coil of desire twisted through me, making my skin flush and my knees go weak.
If he noticed my reaction, he said nothing. But he began to walk slowly around me, as a man in a museum might circle a statue.
I started to turn as well, tracking his movement. “No,” he said, the command in his voice undeniable. “Stay still. Look forward.”
I stopped, hesitated, then turned my head to look out at the party, at the people floating by in pretty dresses and elegant suits. With smiles and laughter and nothing on their minds except the quality of the wine and the rhythm of the band.
I told myself that my acquiescence was simply part of the game—he was a man who wanted control, I was the woman falling under his spell.
But it was more than that, and I damn well knew it. That flutter I felt in my belly wasn’t the excitement of the chase, but the anticipation of his touch.
Yeah, Tyler Sharp was dangerous, all right.
He was behind me now, and though I could no longer see him, I felt his presence as firm and gentle as a kiss. My breath caught in my chest, and I realized that I was anticipating the brush of his fingertips upon the nape of my neck, then his hand on my bare back, exposed in the halter-style dress.
But the touch never came—and my breath never came easy.
When he spoke, his voice was low, as if too much volume would break the spell. “You’re a riddle, Ms.…”
“O’Dell,” I whispered.
He was right there, but I couldn’t see him. I could only breathe in the scent of him, fresh and woody, like a forest after a rain. Sexy, enticing, and undeniably male. “Sloane O’Dell,” he said. “I like it.”
“I like the way you say it.” I kept my voice low and full of invitation.
“Do you?” he asked, as he finished the circle. “I’m very glad to hear it.”
I looked at him, at that perfect face, and felt my fingers twitch with the desire to touch him, a desire that was magnified because I could see only too well that it was returned. Tyler Sharp wanted me, too. Maybe he was teasing me, playing me. Maybe he had an agenda. I didn’t know. But my world centered around seeing—seeing people, seeing evidence, seeing the truth. And I saw the truth in the way Tyler’s eyes were dilated. In the slightest flush of color on his skin. In the way that his pulse beat just a tad too quickly in his neck.
Yes, he wanted me—and yet there was no denying that he was playing with me, too. We were locked in a game, and though I’d initiated it, I couldn’t claim to fully understand the rules.
I felt unanchored and slightly out of control. But at the same time, I felt more desperately alive than I had in a very long time.
With some effort, I managed to gather myself. “You never did say why you were looking for me.”
“No. I didn’t.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Forget chess; this was way more fun. “Am I supposed to guess?”
Instead of answering, he just smiled. Slow and easy and full of decadent promise. “Sloane,” he said. Just a syllable. Just a name. But it was my name, and it seemed to drip with honey. I wanted to taste it. Taste him.