Good advice, actually. And why wouldn’t it be? I was a damn good cop, after all.
Apparently I was also a damn fool, because I had no intention of walking away. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was sticking because of the mission or the man, but I told myself it didn’t matter. That the little trill of sensual pleasure I felt low in my belly wasn’t a weakness—it was an asset. This was a seduction, after all. A little sizzle and pop between us would only make the job easier. And a lot of sizzle and pop would make it a hell of a lot more fun.
Still, I owed either Tyler Sharp or my hormones a thank-you. Because my reaction to this man reminded me that I needed to be careful. Tyler Sharp was a dangerous breed, and though he might not know it yet, he and I were locked in a heated battle. One that I fully intended to win—even if that meant playing dirty.
Beside me, Kat shifted. The movement caught my attention, and I turned to see her watching Tyler.
He gave her the slightest of nods, and she cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, well, I’m just going to run and find Lina and give her and Evan another hug. Attend to my pseudo-hostess duties. Maybe cure cancer and solve that whole world peace problem. Hopefully you two will muddle along without me.”
“I think we’ll manage,” Tyler said. “I promise to take good care of Sloane.”
“Yeah,” Kat said. “I just bet you will.” She winked at me, then bopped away. I watched her get swallowed up by the crowd, grateful to have a moment to gather myself. When I turned back to Tyler, I saw that he hadn’t taken the same opportunity. He was still focused entirely on me.
“Alone at last,” he said.
I shifted my weight, not liking the way this man unnerved me. I was a detective, for Christ’s sake. I ate suspects for breakfast, and my bad cop skills in interviews were worthy of an Academy Award. I’d never worked undercover, though, and I suddenly had all sorts of respect for my peers who put on the mask and held tight to their secrets.
Then again, I was no stranger to masks or secrets. I could do this. And as if to prove it to myself, I looked up at him through my lashes, hoping the effect was as sexy as I imagined. “Should I be nervous? A man like you looking for me.”
“A man like me?” His voice was low. Enticing. “Interesting. So tell me—what am I like?”
I stepped closer to him, lifted my hand as if I was going to touch him, then pulled it back with a slightly embarrassed expression. “Tempting,” I said, and though the word was calculated, it was also very true.
“Am I?” He looked pointedly at my hands. “And that makes you nervous?”
“That? No.” I drew in a breath as I considered my next move and, as in chess, where that move would take me. “I’m pretty good at resisting temptation.”
“Are you?” He leaned in, his mouth so close to my ear I felt the whisper of his breath on my hair. “I’m not. As far as I’m concerned, giving in to temptation is one of the few true pleasures in life.”
Oh, my. A hot coil of desire twisted through me, making my skin flush and my knees go weak.
If he noticed my reaction, he said nothing. But he began to walk slowly around me, as a man in a museum might circle a statue.
I started to turn as well, tracking his movement. “No,” he said, the command in his voice undeniable. “Stay still. Look forward.”
I stopped, hesitated, then turned my head to look out at the party, at the people floating by in pretty dresses and elegant suits. With smiles and laughter and nothing on their minds except the quality of the wine and the rhythm of the band.
I told myself that my acquiescence was simply part of the game—he was a man who wanted control, I was the woman falling under his spell.
But it was more than that, and I damn well knew it. That flutter I felt in my belly wasn’t the excitement of the chase, but the anticipation of his touch.