A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(6)

“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured, his gaze raking over her appreciatively. But not in a creepy way. Everything about him was so polished, from his tailored tuxedo to his genuine smile. When he looked at people or talked to them, he was always engaged, and none of it seemed forced.

“You look pretty good yourself.” She smiled, pasting on the brightest one she could muster. She rarely came to events such as the auction Mercado was putting on. She always felt like an impostor at things like this. While no one could say she didn’t look the part with her sleek black dress, new manicure and pedicure, and, thanks to a friend, an intricate hairstyle that looked as if she’d paid a fortune to have it done, she still felt like a fraud. It was her own insecurities, something she was well aware of. Didn’t change the fact that she felt like a big fake standing around with so many women of Miami’s high society, all of whom were decked out in glittering, blinding jewelry. Part of her that she hated admitting existed wondered why Mercado had even asked her to this thing. He’d pursued her decently enough too, asking her out three times before she’d agreed.

She was pretty, she knew that, but so many of the women were wealthy and elegant with the right pedigree. She was none of those things. She’d lived in dumps for years before finally getting her restaurants off the ground. Now she made a good living, but some days she still felt like that young girl working double shifts seven days a week and so desperate to claw her way out of her life that she’d have done practically anything. People who think money can’t buy you happiness have never been poor. Not that she actually thought money could buy happiness, but it sure as hell paid the bills and gave her stability.

“So, how do you think it’s going? Or is it too soon to tell?” she continued, taking advantage of it just being the two of them. Considering he was the one putting on the silent auction for charity and was a well-respected man, they’d barely had more than a minute of alone time tonight. Oddly she wasn’t that disappointed. The man was perfect on paper and incredibly nice, but she didn’t feel much of a spark.

“I think it’s going well.” He stepped a fraction closer, letting his hand settle on one of her hips in a loose but somehow still possessive gesture. It didn’t make her uncomfortable, but it was surprising. “Though I now see that asking you to this for our first date was a mistake.”

Shock rippled through her at his words. Did he not think she was the right kind of woman to bring to this? “Was it?” Her words came out icier than she’d intended.

He blinked in surprise, a small frown pulling at his mouth. “We’ve had no private time. I’d like to take you out again soon, just the two of us. Maybe I’ll cook for you?”

Oh God, she felt like an idiot. She wanted to crush all her insecurities, but sometimes they just flared to the surface with no warning. The clenching in her gut dissipated when it registered he hadn’t been insulting her. “I—”

“Iker!” A female voice cut off the rest of what Amelia had been about to say.

Which was maybe a good thing. She wasn’t certain she wanted to go on another date with him anyway. If the spark wasn’t there, she doubted it would magically appear during another date. Deep down she wondered if she’d ever feel that “thing” with anyone. She had once, but that was so long ago. Over a decade. And she was pretty certain she’d just built up the combustible attraction in her mind. No one could have been that sexy, that intense, that—

She realized that Mercado was introducing her to someone. Naomi Baronet. A beautiful woman with bright red hair swept up into a simple twist. She was likely in her forties. Her features were sharp, defined, and elegant. Amelia smiled and shook the hand the woman was offering. Thank God she didn’t have to do the air-kiss thing so many people had been doing tonight. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well, Miss Rios.” Her eyes glinted with something that made Amelia feel uneasy. The woman watched her like a bug under a microscope.

But she kept her smile in place. “Please call me Amelia.”

“And you must call me Naomi. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now.” Her smile was easy, her teeth a brilliant white, but there was no warmth in her eyes.

“You have?” Amelia couldn’t imagine why. She had never even heard of this woman.

Naomi nodded, her eyes narrowing just a fraction as Iker slid his arm around Amelia’s waist, holding her loosely, but still close. It felt as if he was being protective. “Yes, I know you’ve been working in tandem with Maria and all those . . . unfortunate women.” Disdain laced the last two words, even as she tried to mask it. “I know Maria’s father disapproves of all the time she spends at that center, but she’s such a giving woman. I don’t know how she does it.”

Unfortunate women? “That” center? This woman was like a cartoon character. Amelia forced herself to keep her voice even. Sometimes her temper got away from her, and tonight was not the time for that. “She does a great service to our community. And those ‘unfortunate’ women are basically young girls who had nothing growing up and simply want a better life for themselves. And they’re not afraid to work hard for it.” Something Amelia could appreciate. Ice coated her voice even as she tried to order herself to keep that facade in place. But people like Naomi, who wore entitlement around themselves like a silk wrap, annoyed her.