The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(9)

Sure, I had encountered many powerful and attractive men in my life. After all, my dad was the Attorney General of the United States, which was a big deal. Interacting with the political elite was just another day on the playground for me, but none of them compared to this man. Not even close. Power, control, and something intangible seeped from him in wicked abundance.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn’t move. I didn’t blink. Apparently, my brain had disconnected from my mouth and my body. Even with the aid of Vera’s little pep talks, I crashed and burned the second I came face to face with Mr. Dark and Sexy. Game over. There was no way in hell I could talk to him, much less use him as an Evan mind eraser. I pivoted backward, determined to flee.

“Are you going to talk to me or did I already scare you away?” His voice whispered down my spine, and the hair on my forearms stood on end. The glint in his eyes said things that his mouth hadn’t, or maybe my overactive imagination needed to shut the hell up.

“Um…” My mind scrambled into a million puzzle pieces, and then I found my voice. “No. I’d like another drink.” I pointed with a limp finger toward the bar, horrified by my attempt at making conversation.

Satisfaction slid across his face. He knew I wasn’t leaving. “I can help you with that.” He lifted two fingers and motioned for the bartender. Less than five seconds later, the bartender hovered in front of him expectantly. All night, Vera and I had to flash our breasts to elicit his attention. Not really, but close. “Another Prairie Fire or a Red Headed Slut? Maybe something different this time?” He raised one dark, perfectly arched eyebrow, humor lighting the sharp angles of his face.

Vera was right. He had been watching me all night. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing, but I elected to stay the course for a few minutes and feel him out. “You pick.”

His lips hinted at a lopsided smile, and my heart nearly exploded in my chest. A direct hit to my heart would have been less effective. “Two glasses of Patron on the rocks with a splash of soda water.”

“No fancy name for that drink?” I asked rocking back on my heels.

“Not everything needs a name.” He leaned closer to the man next to him and whispered something next his ear. The man immediately vacated his seat.

“Sit.” He motioned toward the empty chair…another thing I hadn’t been able to score tonight.

“I’m Hattie.” I slipped into the seat next to him, my body a foot away from him, but still too close for my comfort.

“Hattie,” he repeated. The way my name rolled over his tongue was more intoxicating than my last few shots. “That’s an interesting name.”

“My mom named me after Hattie Caraway—the first woman elected to a full term in the U.S. Senate.”

“Does that mean you have political aspirations?”

“My mom wants me to be involved in politics.” My dad held all the political clout in their relationship and she resented him for it. She didn’t want that for me. She wanted me to be the person with the power. She met my dad at Harvard Law School, but she dropped out when she got pregnant with my brother. She has never let me forget she considers that decision her biggest mistake.

“I’m Ryker.” He pushed my hair behind my ears and with one delicate stroke, the air evaporated from my lungs. Caught in the tangle of his sea gray eyes, I leaned forward, dropping my gaze to his lips.

I bit my lower lip. “What brings you to the bar tonight?”

“A drink. What about you?” Ryker asked.

“Boredom and peer pressure,” I responded.

Ryker’s lips quirked up at the corners. “Maybe I could help you relieve some of your boredom.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Oh really, and what would you suggest?”

Ryker slid my drink across the bar countertop toward me. “A drink. Conversation. Maybe more.”

I swallowed hard, trying to beat back the anxiety bubbling in my stomach. “Why don’t we start with the drink and conversation?” I lifted my glass and took a healthy gulp of my drink.

He stared at me, burning up my insides with a predatory gaze. His eyes swept down my body, lingering on the deep “v” of my dress, sending a tingling sensation straight to my core before his eyes met mine again. “Fine. If that makes you comfortable, I don’t mind pretending we don’t know the end game…at least for a little while. We’ll finish our drink first. ”

My hand froze; drink in hand, halfway to my mouth. I stared at him, my lips parted, my breathing accelerated as his words washed over me. Panic, astonishment, and excitement swirled inside of me. Conflicting urges to flee or drag him back to my hotel room warred inside my body. Both thoughts seemed ridiculous. Weighing my options, I shifted to the end of my seat. “What’s the end game?” I asked, my throat dry and a bit shaky.

He leaned forward trailing a fingertip along my jaw line. “We can sit here and have a friendly chat, but we both know that this night ends with me buried inside of you.” He cocked his head to the side. “I’m hoping it happens sooner rather than later, though,” he said, lowering his voice to a wicked drawl.

Who said shit like that? I snickered trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t help. Desire brewed in the air around us, making it impossible to ignore him. I drew in a forceful breath as my eyes flittered around the bar, searching for Vera. Normally, she stood out like a beacon in a sea of blonde and brown, but I didn’t see her long, flowing red mane anywhere.