One Dangerous Night (Tall, Dark, and Deadly) by Lisa Renée Jones Page A

to the seat. “May I?”
    “Be my guest.” He lifted his beer. “Drink?”
    “No,” she said, slipping her briefcase and purse from her shoulder. “I don’t drink.”
    He barked out laughter.  
    Her brows dipped. “What’s funny about that?”
    “More ironic than funny considering who your boss is.”
    “I wouldn’t know what that means. I’m new to Newport Industries.”
    “How new?”
    “One month.”
    “And you were sent to meet with me? You must have exceptional skills.”
    “I’m efficient.”
    “How efficient?”
    Her eyes, a milk chocolate brown a shade lighter than his own, held his.   “I guess you’ll have to decide that when we complete our business.”
    Whoa Mama. There was an invitation if he ever heard one. So Alvarez had sent him a present to fill his fancy hotel room with. Wasn’t that something?   “I guess I will.”
    Her teeth scraped her coral painted kissable mouth. He could think of a lot of places he’d like that mouth. “I understand you have a file for me?” she inquired.  
    The file being dirt on a certain businessman her boss wanted to blackmail, a test to see if Blake was worthy of bigger and better things. Blake would have felt guilty about just how thorough his file was if said business man wasn’t a lowlife thief.   “And you have money for me?”
    “If you’re owed money, I assure you it’s in the package. I’ll just need the file first.”
    “It’s in my room.”
    Those lush lips parted. “Your room,” she repeated.  
    He leaned in closer. “Some things are better done in private. Wouldn’t you agree?”
    Seconds ticked by, and the air thickened, charged. There was more to this woman than met the eye, and he found himself wanting to discover every inch of that more, and then some.   “My boss did stress discretion,” she finally said, her voice just a bit breathless.
    “Well then,” he drawled. “Let’s be sure and give it to him.” He tossed money on the table and pushed to his feet, before offering her his hand to help her up.  
    She stared at his hand a moment, playing the cat and mouse game, oh so well. She wasn’t a mouse though, this one. More like a wildcat, he was willing to bet, and looking forward to finding out.  
    She retrieved her things before standing up, ignoring his offer of help.   “Lead the way, Mr. Wright.”
    Oh, he intended to. If she was willing to sell her body and soul to a murdering monster for a paycheck, he wasn’t going to feel guilty about using her for everything she might have to offer.

 
    The exchange...
     
    They stepped onto the elevator alone, and his little would-be good-girl secretary that wasn’t, turned her back to the right wall to face him. Blake punched in the floor of their destination and leaned casually against the wall. She was wearing a thin dress and it was winter in Denver, Colorado. Where was her coat?  
    A couple pushed into the car just before the doors shut, separating the two of them, then backing against the wall so that they could still make eye contact. He sized up the couple – middle aged, corporate types – both wearing wedding rings he didn’t think they gave each other. He dismissed them as no threat almost immediately, refocusing on Tiffany – if that was really her name.  
    They might not be alone but the awareness was there between them nevertheless, that charge he’d already felt in the air intensifying with each passing second in a way he hadn’t experienced with a woman in far too long. Why it was this one he didn’t know, but he figured it was simply the high of how close he was to Alvarez. Finally, he’d found his mockery of a corporate shell, and he was inches from locating him.  
    Two floors passed and the elevator doors opened. Blake motioned to the newfound informant, who didn’t know that’s what she was about to be, silently letting her know this was their floor. She pushed off the wall and headed into the hallway. He joined her, resisting the