over heels in love and was now a family man with a kid on the way. No wild romps, no hot women. Hell, he’d even stopped going on live missions. It was hard to comprehend. The whole thing, but mostly the head over heels in love part.
Shit, he’d thought Sterling had been too smart to fall for something like that.
Love was just some bullshit fantasy concocted to keep the sheeple in line. Some tendril of hope for sad sacks who couldn’t make it on their own.
Hell. He’d never needed anyone, and he never would.
Coop smoothed down his jacket. Dressed as he was in a dark Armani suit with a white dress shirt, he blended right in with all the businessmen in the lobby. But he was hardly a businessman. Sharpening his gaze, he quartered the room. His heart kicked up when he saw her speaking with another of Ming Kow’s henchmen. The two parted and the man headed for the elevator while she made tracks to the bar.
Excellent.
Taking a moment to check his reflection in the mirror—and straighten his tie…and remove his earpiece—he followed.
* * *
The room was dim and crowded, teeming with shadows, but he found her immediately. Something about her form, that damned ponytail, called to him. She sat at the bar waiting for a drink.
As he sidled up beside her, a cloud of her perfume hit him. It made him a little dizzy. Or maybe that was the blood rushing to his cock.
Yeah, it was a stupid idea, using her to infiltrate Ming Kow’s organization, but Coop knew he could handle it. He could handle any woman. Even one this freaking hot.
And she was his best bet to get inside and snag the information he needed.
The bartender shot him a glance and Coop ordered a gin and tonic, then casually glanced her way. His pulse fizzled. She was looking at him. Their gazes tangled and his throat went a little tight, but he simply nodded and then looked away.
“Have I seen you here before?” she asked, her voice a low purr that sent shivers down his spine. Her accent held a delicate hint of a Southern Belle.
He didn’t stop his lips from quirking, then glanced her way again. “I don’t know. Have you?”
She studied him for a moment, barely holding back her own smile. It was just what he’d expected, hoped for. Slightly flirtatious, naughty, and just the right amount of innocent. Not innocent in the virginal sense—never that—but Coop instinctively knew this woman, whatever she was to Ming Kow, was not an evil sort. Which was a relief.
Said relief was quickly followed by a hint of guilt. He was planning to use her in a way that would probably cost her her job, perhaps destroy her life. He pushed the inconvenient remorse away. The ends justified the means, especially if he was successful in his mission.
Besides, if she really was an innocent soul, she should not be working for Ming Kow in the first place. Even if she simply took dictation and sent out emails for him, she was enabling heinous crimes.
“I’m Cooper,” he said, thrusting out his hand before he changed his mind.
“Nat.” Her smile was real now, and as dazzling as a thousand-watt bulb. “And what are you doing in Hong Kong, Cooper?”
He lifted a shoulder, was gratified when her gaze fixated on the breadth of it. He wasn’t an arrogant man, but he knew damned well that women found him attractive. He’d seen reactions like this countless times before. The way the flush rose on her cheeks when she stared at his face, the way her tongue peeped out when she gazed at his lips, the way her lashes fluttered…
Yeah. She wanted him.
He edged closer. “I’m here for business.”
“Ah. And what business are you in?”
“Exports.” He could hardly tell her the truth.
“Interesting.” The bartender brought them both their drinks and she didn’t leave, which was promising. “What do you export?”
Intelligence? “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Okay.” He shot her his trademark grin and noticed how her lips parted. “Googley dolls.”
She blinked. “Googley dolls?”
“You know. With the bobbing heads?” He made a chagrined grimace. “Not very romantic, I know.”
“It sounds…very romantic to me.”
“That is very kind of you to say.” He lifted his drink to her. “But patently untrue.”
“My mama always taught me to be polite,” she said in a playful tone.
“Please thank your mama for me.” It was intended to be a jest, but a darkness flickered over her face.