Page 27 of Hit Man

He grins at me. A devilishly charming smile that transforms his handsome face into something that causes my throat to hitch. I stare at him . . . and at his dimples. Two perfectly gorgeous dimples framing his sensual, highly kissable mouth.

Stop. Stop it right now.

“They’ll have to wait another hundred years for that brandy.”

“What?” I croak out, distrusting myself and my reaction to him. It’s like every nerve cell has jumped to life, wires crossing and causing every inch of my body into a heightened state of awareness.

If I close my eyes, I bet I can still feel his tongue gliding across my clit.

I stare at him, horrified by my thoughts.

“I lied.” His smile deepens.

“Lied?” I manage, before the truth of what he’s saying clicks into place in my head. “There’s no brandy in the conference room?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve been here with you all night.”

Seriously? Why would he lie? Unless he wanted to get me alone?

“Where did your date go?”

He stares down at me. God, he’s got gorgeous eyes. They’re like swimming in chocolate, rich and creamy and something you can’t get enough of. “She’s in the bathroom. Bumped into my arm and spilled my drink on her dress.”

I hastily survey the room. No Diana. “How convenient.”

“It is.”

God, he’s not even denying it. “What do you want with me?”

He whistles. Yes,whistles. Low and deep and melodic in tone. The promise of him, the promise of us, has me swallowing hard. “In those sexy heels? Any number of things.”

“Are you always this subtle?” I ask, trying to keep the nervous excitement out of my voice. No. He’s way out of my league. Far too unpredictable. Far too desirable. Not in the cards. Not part of my plan.

“I can be anything you want, Aubrey.”

Oh. Hot damn. My name coming off his lips, the way he rolls theron the back of his tongue, makes me think of sex. Wild, kinky sex. With that wicked, devilish tongue very much involved.

“Anything I want, huh. How about gone?Vámonos.”

“Why are you here at Casa Bella?”

I glare at him. “I’m not getting into this conversation with you again.”

“You asking me to skip the idle chat and get back to business?”

My cheeks flush pink. I know this because suddenly, the room temperature seems to spike and my skin feels warm. Back to business. Kinky, lustful, dirty-between-the-sheets business.

Stop it. You don’t even like the man.

“I promise you, we’lltalkagain soon.”

He unfolds his arms and straightens. And as my attention falls behind him, I spy the woman charging across the floor. Diana. With a wet wine spot the size of her big, overly exposed breast marring her dress.

“Later, alligator,” he tells me, his ridiculous farewell sounding sexy as hell, something in the way he accents thel’s andr’s inalligator.

With a shake of my head, I leave him to deal with Diana and, with my chin raised high, head off in the opposite direction.

An uncanny sixth sense for trouble—how did he guess his ex-lover was bearing down on us if his back was turned?