Page 47 of Havik: Warlord Brides
“I am without a clan. I am not a threat.”
“A guy like you is always a threat. Okay, look around the room. What do you see?”
He twisted in his seat.
“Be subtle,” she hissed. Havik was so bad at being a spy, like super bad.
“Nothing of interest. People drinking. A game of cards,” he reported.
“Rule one, everyone has secrets. Some are obvious and others you have to know what to look for.” She leaned back in her chair, glass of beer in hand, and scanned the room. As Havik had said, there was a card game, people drinking, and not much else going on. “Rule two, the kind of deals we’re interested in don’t happen in the front of the shop. They happen in back rooms and you got to know the right people to get into the back rooms. Which means we need leverage. Everyone’s got secrets, right? Say something to look like we’re having a conversation and you’re not being weird.”
“Me?”
“No, the invisible guy at the table. Yes, you. Try to act like you’re enjoying a beer and maybe flirt a little. Flex your muscles,” she said.
He flexed a bicep and all thoughts emptied from her head.
Oh, wow. Thalia didn’t realize she was all about arms until that moment. Somehow her hand touched his arm. She didn’t put it there.
“I do not know why I entertain these notions of yours,” he grumbled.
She felt her anger toward him soften. He was so earnest but so bad at cunning and deceit that his blunders were endearing. Too bad he was such a dick about it. “Look, I know this mission is important to you. It’s important to me that we nail the assholes who stole me. I’m not going to sabotage this, but you’re way too stiff. You look like a cop.”
“I am not a cop,” he said.
“I know, I know, but you’ve got a stick of righteous smite stuck right up your ass and every ne’er-do-well in the place knows it.”
He sat up straighter, if that was even possible. “Your words are alarming.”
“Try blending into the shadows. Be less obvious.” She emptied her glass. “Back to my point, the guy in the white shirt with the puffy sleeves is cheating.”
Havik turned in his chair and stared directly at the table with the card game in progress. “How can you tell?”
“We’ll work on subtlety,” she muttered, only a little pleased that he believed her statement. “He’s got a card up his sleeve. You can see the edges of the card pull at the fabric. He’s either too cocky for his own good or an idiot. Either way, we got our leverage.”
He ran a hand down his braid and tossed it over his shoulder. “Again. What else do you detect?”
“It’s not a party trick.” She saw plenty but none of it seemed the right leverage for what they needed. “That guy in the corner with the woman? His back is to the room so you can’t see his face yet he’s always checking over his shoulder. He’s nervous.”
Havik grunted, which Thalia took to mean he agreed.
“My guess is he’s sneaking out on his wife with a new lady, but this is his first time as a cheater, so he’s not overly confident.”
Havik stared daggers at the man and muttered words like dishonorable and wretched and vile. Thalia worried that she made a mistake pointing out the adulterer. He stood suddenly, jostling the glasses on the table, and knocking the chair to the ground.
“Hey. Hey,” she said, jumping to her feet. She grabbed the front of his jacket to snag his attention. That didn’t work, so she grabbed his braid, wrapping it around her wrist and pulling. When his eyes, so dark and sparkling with anger, settled on her, she sighed with relief. “Don’t worry about that guy. He’s a dick, but he’s not our problem.”
“His mate—”
“That guy sucks, and it’s hot the way you’re ready to defend marital fidelity, but it’d hurt the mission if you got into a bar fight.”
Something behind her caught his attention. He returned his gaze to her, eyes full of heat.
“Kiss me,” he commanded.
“Wha—”
Wrapping those deliciously thick arms around her, he lifted her and crushed her against the unyielding planes of his chest, his lips claiming hers.
