Page 7 of The Verdict

Great.My skin prickled.Exactly what I didn’t want.Everyone assuming I was a gold digger because I was half Les’s age and a substitute teacher.

I kept my own smile guarded as he picked up his drink and lifted it in my direction just as the bartender returned with my tequila. By the time I thanked him, the older man was gone.

Citrus and agave swirled up to my nostrils as I brought theglass to my lips. The familiar but long-unindulged flavor of Don Julio 1942 sliding smoothly over the top of my tongue. As I swallowed, the glittering crowd morphed into the grungy warehouse tucked away in a corner of Barcelona where the Cosmos operated. On the day of the heist, Jupiter had placed a bottle of Don Julio on his desk.One drink now, the rest a celebration for when we returned with the diamond.

Someone bumped me from behind, and the memory shattered into the present. I blinked and let my gaze roam through the mill of people, a trend appearing in front of me. Older, portly men paired with younger—or pretending to be younger—women. A blonde walked in front of me, and I couldn’t look away from her face—her lips.How did someone even eat with the size?—

“Fake.” His voice was like tequila to my ears. Strong. Earthy. Powerful. I shivered as the heat of it caressed my spine.

“Excuse me?” I looked up. Motorcycle Man had moved from his seat at the end of the bar to stand next to me, his posture more like a guard than a guest.

Up close, he was even more imposing.More striking. His hair was buzzed on the sides, but the longer, messed strands on top were dragged to one side in a “devil-may-care” fashion. His face was slender, structured with a straight nose and strong cheekbones. His lips were full for a man. Full—but not fake.But his eyes—they were the clearest blue I’d ever seen.

They reminded me of the sea in the south of Spain. I’d only gone once with Mamá, but the water… I’d never forget that water. Honest and deceptive at the same time. So clear it revealed everything. So clear it could’ve been three feet deep or thirty.So clear you didn’t realize how deep you were in until it was too late.

“Fake.” A long finger pulled away from his glass to point at the woman I’d been staring at, and then it shifted to anotherwoman who passed by us, her wrinkles as sharply cut as the diamonds around her neck. “Real.”

Now, I understood.

“A game.” I hummed, wondering where the huskiness in my voice had come from.

His lips quirked. “More like a life skill, deciphering who is real and who… isn’t.” A string of significance burrowed under the playfulness in his tone.“It was either that or taste the cake.” The flash of his smile caught me off guard. Bright and recklessly sexy.

“The cake is tempting.”

He hummed in agreement, but lowered his voice when he said, “I don’t think Dr. Wheaton would be too thrilled about me having a taste of what isn’t mine.”

The husk of his voice covered my skin with goose bumps.He wasn’t talking about the cake.

I lifted my chin just a little higher. Beyond defiance and bordering on invitation. “The cake doesn’t belong to him.”

Dios mío.What was I saying?What was I doing?No, I didn’t belong to Les, but I certainly didn’t belong to this stranger either.

“The way his security stares, it does.” Something brutal flashed in his blues, and it wrung another rush of heat between my thighs.

Security? Les had security here? No. He was wrong, but it didn’t matter. I needed to put an end to this. Les would be back any minute, and flirting with that relationship was far safer than this—than flirting with danger.

“The game then.”

The corner of his smile twitched, and he nodded, accepting my choice and then turning his eyes to the room. He pointed to a tall brunette, and I caught the tease of a tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his jacket. “Real or fake?”

My head tipped. Modest chest. Normal lips. “Real.”

“I agree.” His chin dipped, and he picked his next target. “Her.”

It was the woman in the silver dress who’d approached him at the bar. She was hanging off an older man who looked far too frail to support even the weight of her chest, let alone the rest of her.

I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Fake.” As soon as I spoke, a group of people pushed up to the bar behind me, tipping the barstool forward and taking me with it.

Shit.I didn’t make a sound except for the quick intake of breath as I reached out to steady myself on the first thing I could find.Him.My palms crashed into his chest, the solid muscle pulsing beneath my hands as his arm stretched behind my back, securing me to him. Sandalwood and tequila invaded my nostrils with my first breath, the heady combination deepening the ache in my core.

I looked up and found myself sinking into those blue eyes. Deeper and deeper. Closer to those full lips. A taste of the source of all this heat and want. I didn’t even need a whole night—I only needed a moment. A single second of something real. With him.

His head lowered, and my heart clamored in my chest.Take. Take. Take.I gasped.No.The last time my heart had raced like this, I’d been running for my life… with eighteen million dollars in my pocket.

“Sorry.” I pushed back and quickly disentangled myself from his hold, scooting the chair closer to the bar for support. I tucked my hair back behind my ear and smiled like nothing had happened. “Where were we?”

He watched me for a long second before returning his attention to the crowd. This time, the ease was missing from hisexpression as he searched for his next pick like it was someone in particular?—

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