A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(29)

He was going to find out soon enough, though. He wasn’t an eighteen-year-old boy anymore and he wanted some answers. Or at least closure. God, he’d never been able to get rid of the idea that she’d cheated on him. Maybe the guilt had been too much. He wouldn’t have thought it possible she’d ever do that, but it was the only thing he could think of. It was probably why he hadn’t pushed harder. He hadn’t wanted to know if she’d betrayed him like that.

“Is that right?” she asked seductively, scooting close until their knees almost touched.

His entire body tightened at the sexy drop in her voice. He flashed to an image of her riding him, her long dark hair falling around her full breasts like ropes. She’d always used that sexy tone when turned on. And like Pavlov’s freaking dog, his body responded to it.

“Did you wear that dress to drive me insane?” he murmured just as a server approached their table.

She didn’t answer, but her cheeks reddened, making his dick wake up. He’d managed to keep his hard-on at bay, but Amelia in that dress was too much for his self-control. Of course it wasn’t the dress, but her. Petite with full breasts and toned, bronzed legs, she was a walking wet dream. The fact that he’d seen her naked didn’t help him any either. Her hips were a little curvier than when they’d been together, but her upper body was stronger, leaner.

“What can I start you two off with this afternoon?” the server asked.

“Two glasses of champagne, and we need a few minutes,” he said without looking up, his eyes only for Amelia. He’d never ordered for a woman before, but this was all part of his cover. Miguel Ortiz was a domineering man who took control of all situations, including his dates.

“Uh, right away, sir.” The man disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived.

Amelia’s lips twitched slightly, as if she was fighting a smile. “Let’s get back to your other question. Yes, I wore this dress just for you. You like it?”

God, he wished he knew if this was part of her act or if she was being real. “All I can think about is peeling it slowly from your body.” His words were low, guttural, and there was enough space between their table and the others that no one could hear them. He wasn’t lying either. He hoped she knew it too.

Her cheeks flushed again and she had started to respond when her gaze flicked over his shoulder and slightly widened. She shifted in her chair, as if nervous, and he didn’t think she was acting. Mercado must be here. Good.

A small dose of adrenaline surged through Nathan. If Mercado was involved in taking so many women, Nathan would take pleasure in bringing him down. Fucking with him in his own restaurant was icing on the cake. They just had to find proof because the man certainly wouldn’t confess.

Nathan half turned, acknowledging Mercado’s presence as he approached.

The man made a straight line for their table too, no pretenses. Dressed in a casual suit with no tie, he smiled easily as he came to stand under the umbrella of their table. “Miguel, Amelia.” His smile tightened ever so slightly when his gaze landed on Nathan. “I hope my people are treating you well.”

“You own this restaurant?” Amelia asked, her question seemingly sincere.

When Mercado looked at her his expression lost that icy hardness, something Nathan found interesting. Mercado seemed to be genuinely interested in her. He nodded once. “I own this hotel and the adjoining two.”

“Oh, uh . . . it’s lovely here.” Once again her cheeks flushed, as if she was embarrassed. She was doing well.

If Nathan hadn’t known she was lying, he’d believe her. Of course he didn’t think the embarrassment was fake. He knew she felt bad about bringing a date to one of Mercado’s places, since she’d just gone on one with the man last night. He thought she might not be totally convinced Mercado was guilty. Even if he wasn’t, Nathan didn’t want her going out with the man in the future. Something inside him had shifted at seeing Amelia again. He loved his job, loved serving his country, but he didn’t want to be alone forever. And he could never just settle. It wasn’t in his DNA. He was like his abuela in that way. Her husband had died when she was twenty-nine, leaving her with one daughter. She’d never remarried and, according to her, she’d never had the desire to.

Nathan gave Mercado a pleasant smile and slid into his role as Miguel, discussing the restaurant and his intention to buy a new boat that afternoon. He was just a little arrogant, but not over-the-top. By the time Mercado left their table, Nathan was glad to be rid of him. From Amelia’s barely perceptible sigh of relief, she was glad to be alone with Nathan too.

He could tell Amelia wasn’t sure about their plan, but he had no doubt that after seeing her out with “Miguel,” Mercado would be asking her out again soon. Then they just needed to get her inside his house.

Lunch had been good, but Amelia was itching to get out of this place. She hadn’t seen Mercado again, and she was glad for it. Nathan had seemed to slip into his role so easily, but it felt strange to her. Well, the flirting and teasing with Nathan had come easily, which in itself was disconcerting. They’d flirted throughout the meal and while she knew it was just part of their show, it had hit way too close to home.

She’d liked it, had allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to let Nathan kiss her again, what his hands stroking over her breasts and between her legs would—okay, she was shutting that thought down right now.