Page 13 of Seeking Vengeance

“We’ll discuss that inside.” Matthew returns his hand to the small of my back, adding slight pressure. “Don’t worry. You’ll be in public view at all times and can leave whenever you like. You’ve got nothing to fear from me.”

I’m not stupid enough to believe him. I am, however, intrigued enough to continue inside, remaining close to him and his intoxicating aftershave as he escorts me to the bar and pulls out a seat near the window.

“This is your favorite type of place to sit, right?” he drawls. “Near the window with your back to the room.”

I glare and sink into the cushioned leather. “Your thug already critiqued my choice of seating. I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”

He shrugs and claims the chair across the table. “Most people feel more comfortable with their back to the wall. It’s instinct. And when you add the way you stared into the glass reflection the entire time you were at the restaurant, your neck slightly craned, it made your intentions obvious to anyone watching close enough.”

My face heats with the failure.

“Are you a scorned lover?” His question is almost a purr.

I ignore him. I battle to ignore the building butterflies in my stomach, too, their fluttering wings now born from something other than curiosity.

“Or maybe you’re a reporter.” He rests back in his seat, seeming to shelve the playboy charm for a more serious, business-type approach.

“No.” I scan the room, looking from one couple to the next until my gaze lands on Bishop seated at the bar.

“Cop? Fed? DEA?” Matthew asks.

“DEA?” I raise a brow and return my attention to his, appreciating the first piece of validation he’s given me. “I thought the Costas ran a reputable fashion label,” I hedge, despite knowing the truth. “Why would the Drug Enforcement Agency be sniffing around?”

“I’m merely guessing.” He shrugs. “You’re not giving me a lot of feedback.”

A waitress saunters toward us to place a tray on our table. “Excuse me for interrupting. The gentleman at the bar ordered these for you.” She places a glass of scotch before my handsome companion and a wine within my reach. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you.” Matthew claims his drink, inclining it in toast to the waitress before she walks away.

I’m not as eager to grab my gift. The warm kiss of intoxication is already gently caressing my senses, and although it’s becoming clear I’m not the master spy I’d hoped for, I’m not careless enough to be unaware of a potential threat hidden in the liquid.

“There’s no obligation to drink the wine.” Matthew stares at me over the rim of his glass. “But I assure you it isn’t drugged.”

His promise doesn’t provide comfort. All it does is bring me closer to the edge of unease.

Normal, everyday people wouldn’t accuse others of spying. They wouldn’t contemplate spiking a drink or assume that others in their employ could be accused of doing the same.

So, either this man is like me—living within sinister circles—or he’s badge-wearing scum. Neither option will have me spilling my secrets.

“Who are you, Matthew?” I cross my legs, attempting to appear in control. “Areyoua cop? A Fed? DEA?”

That could explain Bishop. The burly guy might not be a bodyguard, but instead, a partner. Then again, cops don’t have the income for the expensive threads these men wear. So maybe something higher up the food chain.

“I’m a businessman.” He takes a sip of scotch, his gaze never leaving mine. “With a vested interest in what the Costas are up to.”

He’s a force to be reckoned with as well. An enigma. He’s got me intrigued. Cautious yet captivated. I want to learn everything there is to know about this man. And I have a sense he feels the same about me.

“You’re in the fashion industry?” I could buy that. He’s certainly dressed well enough. “You’re obviously not local if you’re staying in a hotel.”

“I live in D.C. But no, I’m not on the fashion scene. I’m more on the hospitality side of things.”

It’s my turn to grin. “You’re being very vague, Matthew.”

“Me?” He snickers, smooth and deep. “I’ve told you where I live, the industry I work in, and what hotel I’m staying at. Yet all I’ve learned in return is your ability to bewitch me with that stunning dress.”

My heart kicks, thumping and throbbing. His player game is on point, and I’m loath to admit it’s chipping away at my defenses. It’s been too long since I had a man’s attention.

Since I hadanyattention.

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