Hard Beat(112)

But I keep staring.

And there’s something about the whole exchange that infuriates me.

I need to remember he’s just my cover, the man I need to partner up with to protect my ass. So there’s no reason to be irritated that he just reeled me in with those eyes and then disregarded me without so much as a second look. Ironically it’s the exact same thing I had planned on doing to him – use my looks right off the bat if I sensed any attraction in order to catch him off guard enough to use my brain and intuition to do my job.

I may be an agent, but first and foremost I’m a woman, and no woman likes to be made to feel inconsequential. For the first time in forever I am pissed about someone not noticing me.

Agitated and irritated, I’m suddenly tossing back the shot I had no intention of drinking. The burn comes fast, and I hope my sense follows suit, because no man has ever thrown me off my game when it comes to work, romantically or otherwise – and yet with a single glance, Tanner Thomas has done just that.

I turn the glass around in circles on the scarred tabletop as I try to figure out what exactly it was about the exchange that instantly had him getting beneath my skin. It was ten seconds tops, and yet those ten seconds packed a punch I never expected.

It had to be the look he gave me. While I’ve seen him a hundred times filing live reports – and I’ve both appreciated his looks and admired his skills – nothing prepared me for the absolute intensity in his eyes. Not to mention the flash fire of heat that surged in my lower belly when our gazes met.

And with that last thought, I’m immediately shoving my chair back. All my best laid plans have gone out the window: play it cool, meet face-to-face for the first time tomorrow, fly under the radar. I’ve made a living on being able to read people, and in that brief meeting of our eyes, he was able to get a visceral reaction out of me. That in itself is rare. Even more unheard of is for me to take the bait and say f*ck it to my rules, which is exactly what I’m doing by walking across the bar to face this head-on.

There’s something about the contradiction between the look in his eyes and his rigid posture that tells me he doesn’t like to be handled. Wants all of the control. And God yes, in a lover that’s sexy as hell, but in a man I have to work with under difficult circumstances, it’s not so appealing. I need to get the upper hand here so I can control the situation before it even starts.

Fate has to be on my side because the barstool next to Tanner is vacant when I approach. So I slide into the seat, face him, and wait for him to look my way. I know he senses my presence. I can see the stiffening of his posture, the fleeting tension in his fingers, but he doesn’t lift his eyes from where he’s tracing lines over the grooves on the scarred wood bar top.

He’s attractive in an odd combination of rugged mixed with preppy pretty boy. Camera-worthy looks but with a hint of edge to the lines giving character to his face.

The seconds pass as I wait him out, questioning my decision to come over here, but I won’t back down now. I’m not wishy-washy. Hate women that are. I didn’t get where I am professionally by being a damn doormat. But standing here waiting for him to glance my way suddenly unnerves me.

“Whoever you’re looking for, I’m not him,” he says without looking up.

The part of me that felt uncertainty sags in relief and welcomes his hostility. I can definitely work with his lack of warmth, hold on to it, and use it to my advantage to find my footing. He has no clue that we’re about to enter into a partnership.

“I don’t believe I’m looking for anything.” I feign nonchalance, don’t want to give him any more than he is giving me and yet at the same time hope it brings a reaction out of him. Something. Anything.

“Good.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, but at least he hasn’t gotten up and left. I glance up to the bartender and then back toward Tanner. “Whiskey sour,” I order from the bartender, and notice a slight startle of Tanner’s head in my periphery. I smirk, his reaction giving me the perfect in to get his full attention. “And put it on his tab.”

Bingo. Tanner snaps his head up and immediately meets my gaze. If I thought the intensity in his eyes was powerful before, it’s tenfold now. The problem is that it’s not just the intensity that pins me immobile, but also the unique amethyst color of his eyes mixed with his undeniable good looks. Proximity to him might not have been a good idea because I find myself captivated by him.

A completely foreign and unwelcome feeling hits me so fast that I shove away from the bar top. I maintain my smirking expression and the challenging look I’m giving him even as my insides somersault into nothingness and that quick ache of lust hits me head-on. The flash of intrigue commingled with amusement in his eyes tells me that he’d love nothing more than for me to be the typical female I’m sure he’s used to dealing with: compliant, starstruck, fumbling over her words.

He’s got another think coming if that’s what he’s expecting.

“I don’t believe I offered to buy you one.” He leans back and angles his head, eyes assessing and daring me all at once.

“Well, I don’t believe I asked you to be an * either, so the drink’s on you.” The comment is off my tongue before I can think it through. We stare at each other like two caged animals circling, each trying to figure the other one out, and knowing regardless of our indifference, there is definitely a game of some sort being played between us. Good thing I know what that game is.