Allowing her lips to curve up at the ends, she turned to give him a playful retort, but the words died on her lips.
She’d just looked up into the most strikingly handsome male face she’d ever seen. His gray eyes were noticeably tired, but intensely focused on her, mouth tilted in a smirk. From a distance, he’d been attractive, even with the painful-looking black eye. Up close…he affected her. A lot. Something she definitely couldn’t afford while needing to keep her game face intact.
Sera took a step away from him. “I have a hard time smiling when I’m being stared at.”
“Then you must not smile much, because you’re a fucking stunner.”
Whoa. Huh? The long pull of sexual attraction in her stomach came as a shock. That line had actually worked on her? She’d never had a thing for Brooklyn accents before, but the way he pronounced stunner like stunna did funny things to her insides. Or maybe the sincerity in his voice had done it. He’d said it like he meant it. Coupled with the steady manner in which he watched her now, the effect was potent. It figured that the first man she’d felt a physical pull toward would show up while she was undercover.
Can’t do anything about it here. Put him off.
She wanted to kiss the bartender when he set her beers down on the bar.
“Excuse me. I’m trying to work here. I have customers who need drinks.”
“Yeah?” He took a slug of whiskey, throat muscles working. “Now I need one, too.”
“You’re not in my section.”
Too late, Sera realized she’d said the wrong thing. Setting his empty glass on the bar, he swaggered past her toward the back of the club where tables were arranged. He dropped into the first available chair, close enough to the table of men that she couldn’t deny it was her section, before looking back at her expectantly. She turned to ask the bartender for a refill on the rude man’s whiskey, but he’d already set it down on the hatch. Apparently he could move quickly when he wanted to.
Teeth gritted with the effort to appear casual, Sera placed all four drinks on her tray, ignoring her smile coach’s snort when she served the three men first.
“Took long enough,” one of them commented. “Someone should talk to Hogan. Get him to light a fire under your perky ass.”
Behind her, a chair scraped back with such force, she jumped several inches in the air. All three men at the table froze, eyes going wide when her admirer leaned over their table, supported by his clenched fists. “Apologize to her now.”
One of them stood, hand out in a conciliatory gesture. “Shit, I didn’t know she was with you. I-I didn’t…she—”
A fist hit the table, knocking over one of the fresh beers. “I asked for an apology. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s asking for something twice.”
A chorus of sorrys immediately went up, but all she could do was nod her acceptance. Who was this guy? The three men looked utterly horrified at having offended him, like their very lives were at stake. Slowly, he straightened and went back to his table, settling back in his chair. Everyone in the club had gone deathly still, but he didn’t seem to notice or give a damn. Not knowing what else to do, Sera placed the full glass of whiskey in front of him. When she tried to walk away, his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist.
“Can I get that smile now?”
“If I don’t give it to you, what happens?” she asked, with a little more steel in her voice than intended. “Are you going to shout the smile out of me?”
His thumb massaged a circle into her palm, watching her closely. “Careful, Ladybug, you’re showing your spots.”
What is that supposed to mean? She snatched her hand back. “Maybe I keep the smile for my boyfriend only.”
He leaned back slowly and sipped his whiskey, all traces of amusement gone.
“If you do have a boyfriend, he’s about to be sorely disappointed.”
“Why is that?”
“I’ve never been much good at sharing.”
Sera stared at him in shock.
Instinctively she knew not to challenge him in front of the men sitting behind her, no doubt hanging on every single word.
For some reason, they seemed to fear him, and until she knew the lay of the land, making a scene wouldn’t help her cause. She set her tray down and lowered her voice to a whisper. Still, she couldn’t let him get away with that comment. Share her? As if she were a can of Coke? “Who do you think you are?”
His gaze dropped to her lips. “I’m the guy who’s going to kiss you tonight.”
“Like hell you will,” she sputtered, crossing herself before she could resist the urge. “I don’t even know your name.”
A single eyebrow rose. “Did you just cross yourself?”
She shifted on the balls of her feet.
“I’d tell you to try it, but it appears to be too late for religion where you’re concerned.”
“No arguments here.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. The way his head tilted to the side probably sent most girls into a squealing fit. It hadn’t escaped her notice he still hadn’t revealed his name.
“I’ll make you a deal—”
“Oh no.” She shook her head. “This is how every episode of Dateline NBC