pulled by that gaze and something else. A sensation that numbed her fingertips and toes.
Familiarity. That was it. There was something weirdly familiar about him.
“Have you been in here before?” she asked. “I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve met.”
He just gave her that wicked half smile again, revealing the slightest overlap of his front teeth, the imperfection wildly attractive on an otherwise perfect face. “Maybe in another life.” He reached out and slipped his fingers right under her hair, flicking the three silver hoops so they clinked against each other. “See you later . . . Lena.”
She didn’t move a muscle as he walked away, didn’t take a breath or blink an eye.
Lena. He said it as if the name amused him, as if he knew she didn’t even think of herself as the name she’d adopted the day she showed up at this bar.
But he couldn’t know. No one knew. Except Smitty, who’d given her a new, safe, sane life, along with a completely different name.
“ ’Scuze me, miss? Can we get another round?”
She just held up a hand, making her grandmother’s silver bangles ding against each other. A tendril of déjà vu curled up her spine and raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
From another life? If so, it must have been a good one.
CHAPTER TWO
DAN PARKED THE rented Porsche directly across from the bar at twelve twenty-five. He had damn good reasons for coming back to Smitty’s night after night since he’d arrived in the Keys.
He wanted to be certain she was safe. He wanted to know how she’d fared over the years. He wanted to make sure none of the “tourists” were plants from the Jimenez family, looking for retribution. He wanted . . .
Her.
Magdalena Varcek had grown from a teenager into a glorious woman, with sultry dark eyes and masses of chocolate curls and a translucent complexion that hinted at the Hungarian blood she had claimed made her part Gypsy. She had the same sass and spunk, the same playful smile, the same glint of erotic invitation in her eyes, but now it was all part of a woman’s package, and ten times more attractive because she knew exactly how to use it.
She’d always been a sex pistol, but now she was a freaking AK-47, loaded and clearly looking for a target. All he could think of when he looked at her were those secret, steaming, sexy nights in the shed when nothing was offlimits. Nothing.
Well, she’d been off-limits. But that hadn’t stopped him. He could have gotten his information a half dozen other ways, but something about Maggie Varcek made him crazy and achy and more willing to take risks.
Which was why he was sitting in this car right now, just as crazy as he had been then.
Once he’d seen her, smelled her, heard the siren call of her silver jewelry and throaty laugh, he just kept coming back with unanswered questions. What in the world ever brought her to this place? Why?
And other questions, like . . . would she taste the same? Move the same? Scream when he made her come?
He pushed the car door open and climbed out, already tasting the first kiss, the first heat of her skin.
Maggie would never know who he was. One night. One time. All his questions answered, all his needs met, all his curiosity sated.
How could anyone get hurt by that? Her signals were unambiguous, and he was just responding the way any red-blooded male would. It didn’t matter that he knew more about her than she knew about him. Tomorrow, he’d be gone.
Inside Smitty’s, only a few people were left: two guys at the bar, a couple making out at a table, and some twentysomethings doing sloppy shooters with limes.
The waiflike blonde named Brandy looked up from wiping the bar and curled a come-hither finger at him. He took one of the empty seats and matched her conspiratorial smile.
“She made last call five minutes ago,” Brandy said.
“Guess she was eager to end the night,” Dan suggested.
“Or start it.” She turned to the fridge, pulled out a Heineken, and snapped the top against a bottle opener near her hip. “This one’s on the house, Mr. Dan-with-nolast-name.”
He took it. “Gallagher. Thanks.”
Two seats down, a man turned and looked sharply at him.
Dan nodded, immediately remembering the dude who’d come in five minutes after he did. He looked pretty damn sober after camping at the bar for three straight hours. He had a draft in