Page 19 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)

“And you’ve been to many,” he says with a hint of sarcasm. His eyes lock with mine, and as seems to be the case with him, I can’t seem to read what he’s thinking. It’s unsettling, considering I can always tell what a man is thinking.

Except for Rowan.

I try to decode it, to figure out if the heat is annoyance or attraction or a mix of both, and as I stare at him, I realize it’s jealousy simmering there. A jealousy that he is very unhappy about feeling.

In fact, looking back on numerous nights in dimly lit restaurants and bars, it’s the same look I’ve seen time and time again, some brand of irrational jealousy mixed with irritation. I’ve never seen it so clearly, but now that I recognize it, I know I can work with it.

I smile wide, confidence flowing through me at this subtle sign I’m winning this battle.

“Exactly! Helps that the women at this one seem to be on another level,” Horace says, giving me the perfect in to taunt the man across from me.

“Do you agree, Rowan? In your experience with all of the Daydream Resorts locations, are the guests prettier at this one?”

Long moments pass as I look across the table at him.

It feels like an eternity as his eyes graze over my face, my hair, and what he can see of my body above the table, but he never looks around the room, never shifts his attention to Rory or any of the other gorgeous women nearby.

My breath hitches, and my heart stops, but I force my body to remain relaxed and loose.

“There’s a lot of beauty to see here,” he finally says. If anyone else said it, I’d think it was a brush-off, a way not to hurt my feelings, but I’m looking Rowan in the eye right now, his attention burning on me, and I know. I know it’s a quiet admission.

“Do you two know each other?” Horace asks, looking between Rowan and me. I smile gently and nod.

“We run in the same circles in Hudson City.” A small smile plays on Rowan’s full lips at that. “Are you here having dinner with a guest?” I ask.

His gaze shifts from me to Horace and back again before sliding into a sly smile. “I am. Seems you’ve made a new friend as well.”

Again, it’s so subtle, almost invisible, but the tiniest flash of jealousy ignites. Fire blooms within me as well, settling in my belly in an unavoidable way.

“We just stumbled upon Horace, and he was so generous to keep us company while we ate,” I say, gesturing to the half-eaten plate before me. “He’s been showing us his watch collection and teaching us about how airplanes work.”

“Well, knowing Horace pretty well, I’d say he’s your type.”

He means it as a dig, and despite my best efforts, it works, sending irritation flooding through me.

I open my mouth to argue, but before he can say anything, a perfectly manicured hand comes to rest on Rowan’s arm, and his attention is diverted to the middle-aged blonde woman he was having dinner with.

“Rowan, darling, I hate to do this, but I have an appointment in ten minutes I need to get to the spa for.”

“Of course,” Rowan says, turning toward her, finally breaking from my gaze. “Would you like me to escort you?”

My own brand of ugly jealousy blooms in me, something I’ve never had the misfortune of having to battle, much less while on assignment. It eases when the woman shakes her head in the negative.

“Oh, no, I know how busy you are. Thank you for having dinner with me.” Her smile is sickly sweet, but my irritation simmers when, instead of watching her walk off, Rowan’s eyes shoot right back to me as if to assess. A flash of victory moves over his face.

“Well, I’m going to get back to my office,” he says, nodding at our table. “It was nice to see you again, Rory, Horace.”

I don’t miss how he doesn’t say goodbye to me, and it grates on me. Rory kicks me under the table before looking at me with a do your fucking job kind of look because, despite it all, we both know if I can crack Rowan, he’s pretty much the perfect source of intel.

“Actually, I need to use the ladies’ room, and you know how bad I am at directions. Can you show me the way?” I ask, standing.

Rowan looks from me to his high-roller client, whom he clearly needs to keep happy, before begrudgingly nodding.

“Of course. After you,” he says, then puts an arm out to gesture me forward, though it’s said through gritted teeth.

We’re out of earshot when, almost like he can’t help himself, his hand goes to my lower back in the faintest touch that I can feel all over.

“So you can have dinner with her but not me? From what I could tell, she’s also a guest,” I say low, for only him to hear, and when I look over at him, I regret it. There’s a cocky grin on his lips as he looks down at me.

“Is that jealousy I’m sensing, Ms. Montgomery?” I wonder how he knows my last name. Did he find it out when I checked in, or did he ask an acquaintance at some other time we bumped into each other? We never had any real conversations in college, so I can’t imagine he’s known that long.

“If it is, what are you going to do about it?”

His steps slow with my teasing words as we step out of the restaurant into a much quieter, empty hallway before he turns to face me fully.

For a split second, I think he’s going to kiss me.

For a split second, I hope and pray he’s going to kiss me. To pull me into him, to press his body to mine.

But then he blinks and shakes his head like he’s shaking the thought from it.

“It wasn’t planned. My boss asked me to stop by and say hello, and when I did, she asked me to stay for dinner.

I didn’t decline because her husband is on the board.

” It’s a simple explanation, really, but it also feels like an appeasement.

Like something he’s sharing so I won’t have my feelings hurt.

There’s also the basic point that he doesn’t owe me any kind of explanation at all.

My mind is churning on that fact as we stand, staring at each other before he speaks again. “And you?”

“Me?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“You and Horace. Seemed cozy.”

I shrug, fighting a smile. “He’s an interesting person. He also seems to know a lot about a lot of things.”

Rowan steps closer then, and I take one back until my back is to the wall, his body towering over mine in a way I remember from the bar, in a way I like , even if I think I should probably be nervous. Though he doesn’t touch me at all, I can feel the heat of him coming off in waves.

“There’s something about you,” he whispers, breath playing along my lips.

“That I am frustratingly gorgeous?” I ask, my own words so faint I almost don’t hear them, but clearly, he does.

“Yes. And distracting, but that’s not what I meant.” I like the idea of him finding me distracting and gorgeous, but I don’t have time for some flirty retort before he speaks again. “You have a secret, Josie Montgomery. And I’m going to find out what it is.”

My heart pounds, trying to work through thoughts and ideas of excuses and explanations quickly, but as always, the simple answer is the best one.

“What kind of secret could I possibly be keeping?” I whisper.

“I have no idea, but it’s driving me out of my mind.

You’re gorgeous, you’re funny. You’re smart, and you don’t take shit from anyone.

And yet, you seemingly choose to spend your time with assholes.

Every time I see you, you’re at the nicest restaurants in Hudson City with rich men you have no interest in. You?—”

My pulse is pounding with a sense of thrill and danger, both because he’s asking far too many questions and because he’s taking this many notes about me. I cut him off to stop him and his train of thought.

“Who said I have no interest in the men I go on dates with?”

With my question, his smile goes cocky, his eyes traveling down my body in a way that burns.

“Your body tells me everything I need to know.” He shifts an inch closer, so my breasts are just barely grazing his chest, and I fight the urge to arch into him.

“Your face? Your face is always on: you look so invested in every word he’s saying, but your body couldn’t care less.

Your body looks like you’re at a board meeting, taking notes.

” He shifts his head, leaning back just a bit and taking me in as if to prove a point before smiling down at me.

“Unlike now. Your body now? Interested. Hanging on every word I say. Invested.”

I fight the urge to shift away from him to counter what he’s saying, but it would just prove his point further, and he would clearly catch the small move because he’s good at this.

An expert at reading me. I’ve never met anyone able to dissect tiny changes in movements and body language as well as I can, and at this moment, I can’t tell if it’s annoying or the biggest turn-on of my life.

No one has ever been able to see past the intricate walls I’ve put up; no one has ever been able to see beyond what I allow them to see.

Until Rowan.

“That’s why I’m always so perplexed when I see you out. You’re on, flirting and pushing your tits up, distracting whoever you’re out with. But that’s all it is: you’re on . You’re not there for your own pleasure.”

“What do you know about my pleasure, Rowan?” I ask in a flirty whisper that I don’t even mean to put into my voice.

He smiles then, all wide and devious, like he was hoping that’s what I would say next.

“I think we both know how in tune I am to your pleasure, baby.”

I lick my lips, suddenly parched under his hot gaze.

“What are you going to do about it?” I whisper. “With your unique knowledge of my wants and needs?” I don’t know what my intention is for my question, but I ask it nonetheless.

My heart drops when his demeanor changes as if a bucket of cold water is dumped over him before he steps back, cold air filling the space he just was. He shakes his head, running a hand through his carefully groomed, thick, dark hair and making a small clump fall to his forehead before he answers.

“Nothing.”

I fight the disappointment from showing on my face, reminding myself I am here for a job . I am here to solve a problem, not to flirt with the VP of Operations.

“Then I guess you’ll just keep bumping into me and getting that jealous little frown on your face,” I say, stepping back toward the entrance of the restaurant, forgetting I came out here under the guise of using the ladies’ room.

Rowan’s eyebrows furrow with my words.

”I don’t have a jealous little frown.”

I give him a pitying smile. “Cute that you think that,” I say with a shrug before taking two more steps backward toward the door, a smile on my lips. “See you around, Rowan.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he grumbles.

I laugh as I turn around fully and head into the restaurant without a second look. I make my way back to the table, a bit irritated and flustered despite my nonchalant act. Rory gives me a look when I sit, my jaw tight but my fake smile wide.

“No Rowan?” Horace asks. I shake my head.

“No, he had to go be a big party pooper and work ,” I pout.

“That kid. All work, no play.” He sits back with a wide smile. “Now me? I’m the opposite. All play, minimal work. I already put in my work.”

I flutter my eyelashes and open my mouth to say something, but an annoyed voice interrupts us.

“Are you done playing with the young things, Horace?” a middle-aged woman with blonde hair asks, looking down her nose at Rory and me. Horace clearly misses the rude move.

“Oh, Regina! You took long enough to get here. Ladies, have you two met my new friend, Regina?” The woman looks from Rory to me and deems us uninteresting. “I met her when I arrived here.”

“Great to meet you,” I say with as genuine a smile as I can give someone who clearly doesn’t like me without even knowing me.

“She’s a writer,” Horace says, and despite his flirting with Rory and me tonight, it’s clear he likes this woman. The exchange is almost endearing.

“Oh, that’s so interesting. Where can we read you?” Rory asks with a soft smile that Regina returns, though hers is uncomfortable and tight.

“Oh, you know. A little here, a little there.” I shift my eyes to Rory, who is already looking at me, our minds on the same page.

As people who diligently avoid talking about our work, it’s easy to narrow in on when someone else is doing the same thing.

“Anyway, Horace, let’s go. I’m getting very…

tired.” There’s a purr in her voice that almost makes me gag, and when I look at Rory, she’s fighting off a grimace of her own. “Would you mind showing me to my room?”

Horace, on the other hand, looks absolutely smitten with her and stands quickly.

“Of course. It was great to meet you, girls. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” he says. We agree and exchange goodbyes before we watch them head out together.

“Suspect,” Rory says low, and I nod as she types both Horace's and Regina’s names into her phone. “Okay, let’s go. We have some research to do.” We both stand and head out of the restaurant, and even though I feel good about the intel we gathered, I have a knot in my stomach.

“You going to tell me what happened with Rowan?” she asks as we step into the empty elevator.

I give her a quick look before digging into my small bag, pretending to look for something.

“Nothing. ”

“Bullshit. He looked like he wanted to simultaneously run away from you and tear your clothes off when you left.”

“Well, he didn’t tear my clothes off.”

“So he ran away from you?”

I shrug then, still avoiding her eyes. “I told you, Rory. He’s not into me.”

She lets out a small huff of disbelief before shaking her head. “Sure, he isn’t.”

And I don’t even have it in me to argue with her. Because, despite the back and forth, Rowan clearly is into me. But I’m starting to wonder if that interest could come at a cost.