The corner of his mouth lifted. “Sure, but do you want something else to drink? A shot maybe?”
Oh yeah, he could be the one. God, why did they always want to do shots? The answer was obvious. She didn’t handle shots well. She’d nursed the fresh cocktail for the last hour and her skin puckered with tightness from the first one that still coated her abdomen. She took a shaky breath and smiled.
“Sure.”
He held up his finger indicating he’d be back in a minute and pushed his way to the bar. Her hand moved over her purse again. If he was the one who had taken Hanna, he’d be dangerous. She was prepared. A can of pepper spray and a foghorn lay inches away, inside her purse.
In her back pocket, she kept her cell phone, a slim switchblade and the roofies. Tucked safely in the tiny zipper pocket of her bag was a picture of Hanna. In order for her plan to work, she needed him to take her somewhere so she could drug him. Her heart palpitated at the prospect of being alone with the creep. As long as she got the drugs in him as soon as possible, he’d be less powerful against her. And if he tried anything, she was ready. She had never hurt a fly in her life, but in order to find Hanna, she would do anything.
He returned with a shot in each hand.
Her blood thundered wildly through her veins to the techno beat that pulsed through her thin sandals.
Her fingers curled around the tiny, smooth plastic cup.
“Bottoms up.” His fingers lifted the end of the cup, urging her to drink. He kept his eyes on her while his shot hovered at his lips. Dammit, she hadn’t watched him get her drink. She knew better than that. If she backed out now, he’d know something was up. She tilted her head back and let the liquid wash down her throat. It burned all the way down to her belly.
She coughed. “What was that?”
“Tequila.”
She groaned inwardly. She’d only drank tequila once before and she didn’t remember much of that night other than a lot of vomiting before passing out. That had been Hanna’s twenty-third birthday party.
“Want another?” He leaned close, his body crowded her.
Her hackles rose. Wow, he wasn’t wasting any time. She lifted the cocktail in her hand and drank the too-sweet liquid, washing out the burn of the tequila.
“Not yet, let’s dance.” She led him into the crowd and began to sway to the music. His hands grasped her hips, drawing her against him. This close, his scent invaded her. Her nostrils burned with the ashen smell of cigarette smoke and a hint of sweat. Gross.
He smiled down at her. His eyes were shadowed beneath the bill of his hat. She moved closer to get a good look at him, which planted the front of her body against his. His smile widened. His hands moved to cover the small of her back, where denim met bare skin.
The bridge of his long nose had a large bump—a recent break? She took in every inch of him, she needed more. Something else to identify him.
“You’re not drinking.” His eyes darkened on hers.
Her breath hitched. The heat from the tequila warmed her blood. Another one of those and she’d be on her ass. She sipped her cocktail.
“Where’s yours?”
His hips pulsated to the beat of the music. She moved against him. He drew her closer, his thigh slipped between hers. Her body stiffened and her throat tightened.
He was assertive, all right.
He reached into his pocket and opened his palm to her. “I have these, do you want one?”
Three tiny purple pills stared back at her. Her stomach dropped. Every muscle in her body turned to stone. She swallowed over the lump that expanded in her throat and forced words out. “Not right now.”
He tossed back one of the pills and swallowed without any water. “You’re no fun. Have one of these or a shot, your choice.”
He was challenging her. If she stood her ground and accepted neither, he’d move on to another woman. One that was less prepared than she. The pills just made him a prime suspect. Could he have drugged Hanna? She had to pursue him.
“I’ll have another shot, but make it a double.”
He laughed, “Now you’re talking.”
She led the way to the bar this time, no way in hell she was letting him touch her drinks after seeing the pills. Had he slipped her one already? A gentle hum ebbed over her body and fear ate a hole into her heart.
“Two doubles of tequila.” Greg rested his arm on the bar and turned to her. “You’re here by yourself?”