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I should turn around and walk out. I should… But my addiction to caffeine and the allure of withstanding his intimidation becomes a living, breathing thing inside me as I stalk to the serving station to await my order.
I continue my refusal to make eye contact. I won’t give him the satisfaction of my attention, not when I’m unsure if my emotions are masked.
“Why are you walking away?” He follows behind me, stopping on the fringes of my personal space. “You said we were going to be seeing a lot of each other. Then you didn’t call. You didn’t text. I’m begi
My pulse spikes and I pivot to face him. “Don’t—”
I snap my mouth shut at the grin he beams at me. The provoking, manipulative curve of lips.
“Don’t what?” His deep blue eyes glisten, his enjoyment crystal clear.
My heart rate becomes a crescendo, the growing beats transforming into a throbbing pound in my ears.
He’s playing with me. Toying. And it’s all my fault.
I started this game. I whacked the hornet nest and thought I could get away with it. But I’m not going to be terrorized. Not now. Not ever.
I’m immune to his charm. I don’t see the beauty in him, not like all the women around me seem to.
Those dark eyes are threatening, not mesmerizing. The thick eyelashes. The chocolate hair. The richly ta
Nothing.
He’s packaged strategically. To lure his prey.
And I won’t be enticed toward that web.
“Mr. Torian.” I raise my voice above polite conversation in an attempt to gain an audience. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be speaking to me seeing as though your actions are constantly under FBI scrutiny.”
His shoulder lifts in a faint shrug. “You’ve got nothing to worry—”
“And don’t you have more important things to do this morning?” I speak over the top of him, one brow cocked. “I thought you’d be making your way to court. Your father’s case is going to make headlines. It’s definitely an event I won’t miss.”
Those dark ocean eyes remain on mine. The smile holds in place. But something waivers. There’s the slightest change in him to make the charming expression turn forced.
Good.
I’ve struck a chord.
If he doesn’t leave, I’ll strike many more.
“I understand the hostility.” He reaches out an arm and checks his watch. “And yes, I assume my father is being transported to the courthouse as we speak. That’s why I’m here. I’d like to offer a truce.”
“A truce?” The question escapes my lips without my permission.
“Yes.” He loses the grin and quits the playboy act to stare at me with a solemn facade. “I want to clear my name and any misconceptions you might have. I don’t want to be associated with my father’s crimes.”
“Misconceptions?”
The cashier slides my coffee and an apricot Danish encased in a paper bag across the collection counter and murmurs my name.
“I don’t have any misconceptions.” I step forward to claim my bag and travel cup, then indulge in a sip. “Only cold, hard facts. I know exactly what type of man you are. There’s no need to waste your breath.”
He follows me, stepping close and lowering his voice. “You may not agree with the way I do business, but I’m not anything like my father.”
“The way you do business?” I keep repeating him. I can’t help it. His insanity is worth hearing more than once. “That’s a delusional way of describing what you do.”
“I’m nothing but a ruthless businessman.”
“Ruthless, with stalking tendencies, right?”
The accusation isn’t a stab in the dark. He came here looking for me, which means he already knew my routine.
“I wouldn’t call this stalking.” He flashes me a flawless grin. “I asked a colleague or two about your habits, and they led me here. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, do you?”
I wave a hand in the direction of his face. “Intimidation, threats, lies, and now flirtation? You really do have a remarkable set of skills. But none of them will work on me. I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.”
I start for the doors, his footsteps following close behind.
“You’ve got the wrong idea. I just want to talk.”
Despite the calm tone, there’s a wealth of authority in his voice. He’s used to being obeyed. He’s perfected the art of coercion.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” He maneuvers around me, cutting me off before I reach the door. “What do you have to lose?”
“My integrity.” I stop, not wanting to barrel into him. I’m sure his heat is enough to scar. “My self-respect.”
“You don’t know me.” Again, he’s calm. Collected. He’s entirely locked down, but there’s the slightest hint of panic in his eyes.
He needs this.
Why?
“I don’t want to know you,” I drawl.
He raises his chin as if offended. “I understand that. But you want to know the facts, right? You want to learn the truth.”
I scrutinize him, trying to understand his hidden motives. He’s not making sense. Cole Torian doesn’t beg. He never shows weakness.
Something must be amiss in his magical world of criminal activity to have him scrambling for my attention.
The possibilities eat away at my curiosity. That hyper-sensitive skin at the back of my neck regains its tingle.
“I’ve already told you I’ve got places to be this morning.” I focus outside, trying to fight the wicked web he’s weaved. “I can give you five minutes. Nothing more.”
“That works for me.”
He takes the lead, moving away from the door. But I can’t follow. My feet are cemented in place, the instinct to flee scratching at my skin.
I should call this in. Or request assistance. Even a silent witness.
Then again, it’s just a conversation. No other agent would show anything but excitement at this opportunity. Unless they had a tarnished reputation.
“Anissa?” His voice brushes my ear, the material of his suit grazing my arm. “We can take the empty table next to the window.”
“Yeah. Okay.” I nod, my mind made up, and push past him to lead the way toward the front corner of the cafe, the glass window providing an unrestricted view of the sidewalk.
I take the far seat and place my paper bag on the table, my back to the wall while his remains exposed to the room.
“I assume you won’t protest the need to record this conversation.” I pull my cell from the Velcro strap stretched across my bicep and place it between us.
“Not at all.”
I expected a refusal. This man is definitely full of surprises today.
“Good.” I place my coffee down and swipe through the cell screen until I find the voice recorder. “You can get started whenever you’re ready.”
He eyes me, those navy depths examining me closely. “You’re going to fight this friendship every step of the way, aren’t you?”
I don’t bite. I refuse.
He’s trying to get me to admit to a non-existent relationship, one that will worsen my position within the Bureau, and I won’t let it happen.
He won’t gain the upper hand here.
I sigh. “What’s this about, Cole? What’s the game?”
“There’s no game.” He leans back in his chair, the picture of relaxation. “I just want to make both our lives easier. You keep trying to pin me for crimes I haven’t committed. You even planted an informant to gain evidence that doesn’t exist. What will it take to make this stop?”
I press my lips tight, feigning contemplation while I push aside the unwanted reminder of my defective narc. “I don’t know, maybe when you quit breaking the law we can all get along.”