Page 36 of Blood Stone
He glanced over her shoulder. “Garrett must have got word we’ve arrived. He’s here. Don’t turn around. Keep your back to him so he has to force the acknowledgement.”
Kate nodded to the barman as he placed her daiquiri in front of her and Roman turned his shoulder slightly inward, so his gaze was devoted to Kate. She picked up her drink. “You’ve done this before,” she accused him.
“Once or twice. That’s the reason I don’t advertise my personal resources. I’d spend even more time defending them, if I did.”
She sipped and winced. “As sweet as before. Daiquiris seem to be a lost art. Oh well.”
“You need to learn to appreciate martinis,” Roman told her.
“Not until they start making them with rum,” she replied.
“Kate,” Garrett said, from behind.
His approach had been noted by almost everyone in the bar. There wasn’t a single A-list face in the place, and Kate was the heaviest Hollywood name here. Garrett was a recognizable name on anyone’s list. Heads were turning as he picked out Kate at the bar. Saturn had approached tiny Mars.
And Saturn had brought satellites. There were two people standing behind him, one of them the lawyer that Roman had already begun to think of as odious. MacDonald. He was carrying a briefcase. Of course.
The other was a woman in a chic business suit. Short, pitch black hair, black eyes, flawless pale skin. She clutched a portfolio and a computer tablet. The executive assistant, Roman catalogued.
Kate straightened up, examining Garrett in his immaculate suit, and his array of people. “I see you felt the need for reinforcements.”
Roman grinned.
Garrett’s gaze flickered toward him. It was the first time he had acknowledged his presence.
“So did you.”
“Adrian?” Kate clarified. “That was your suggestion. Besides, he’s a friend, not professional back-up.” She waved toward the tables. “Shall we do this?”
Garrett stepped out of the way. “By all means. Would you like to pick your table?”
Kate pursed her lips together. “I really don’t give a damn, Garrett. I’m not that petty. Just pick one and let’s go.”
Roman let himself grin again. She was staying on the attack. Making herself sound pissed and angry. Building up the impression of a strong woman forced to a position of defeat. His admiration of her lifted. So far, she was playing it perfectly.
Garrett didn’t react to the anger. He glanced at the assistant. “Annette?”
“I’ll find a table that will seat all of us,” she said and hurried away, her sensible shoes squeaking on the tiles a little.
“Does ‘all of us’ include your four bruisers casing the bar?” Roman asked.
Garrett glanced at him. “No, but it does include you, as Kate brought you along.” He thrust out his hand. “Calum Garrett. I’m sure you’ve figured that out. You are?”
Roman let Garrett’s hand hang in mid-air for a minute. Then he took it.
Damn, but the feel of his hand brought back memories. The long fingers, the big palm. The familiarity of it.
He tamped down the memories. Beat them back. Now wasn’t the time. “Adrian,” he said.
Garrett smiled and let his hand go. “You know I will be able to figure out the rest of your name, later, don’t you?”
Roman smiled back. “Just because you’ve got connections and can dig stuff up on people...I don’t see that as a reason to just hand myself over on a plate for you.”
“A man of principles.”
“Some.”
The assistant, Annette, hurried back. “By the pool table. I’ve joined two tables together.”
