The blonde located her discarded T-shirt next to the car. It had fallen off the hood, gotten soaked with tequila, and covered with broken glass. She held it at arm’s length and sighed. “Damn it, I loved this shirt.” She glanced at him. “Be a gentleman and give me your shirt. Or your jacket.”
“I’m not a gentleman.” He couldn’t keep the derision out of his voice. “Not even close.”
He’d said that once before, but it took a moment for him to remember when and where. He’d said it to Alice in the so-called Broken World, he recalled, just before he’d brought her back to her own world. He’d said it playfully then, but this time his voice held all the bitterness in his heart.
To his surprise, the blonde woman chuckled softly. “I never thought youwerea gentleman, sweet pea. I just thought I’d give you a chance to pretend.” Before he could formulate a response, she jerked her head at the trunk. “Now, what to do about this girl? Take her somewhere safe?”
“I planned to kick some answers out of the demon minions, use them to find the rest of the trafficking ring, and then drop the lot of them on the cops’ doorstep, or in a landfill, whichever turned out more warranted.” He scowled. “You managed to destroy my plan.”
“You destroyedmyplan,” she shot back. “All you had to do was stay in the damn bar for five more minutes and I would have found out everything those bozos knew, butno, you had to come prancing out here and wreck the whole thing.”
The fact she’d planned to extract full confessions didn’t surprise him in the least—and since he’d seen her in action, he didn’t doubt her ability or willingness to do so. But now that the minions were dead and their respective plans had gone up in smoke, how could he find this mysterious contact called “Ace”? And what to do with the victim in the meantime?
And what about Mireille Richards, the reason he was in this damned parking lot in the first place?
His attention went to the bar’s front door, where the second and lesser of tonight’s drunken fistfights had finally fizzled out. As the half-dozen brawlers stumbled toward their vehicles, the blonde hopped onto the hood of the minions’ car, grabbed his belt, and tried to pull him close.
When he resisted, the corners of her mouth turned up in a wry smile. “We don’t need anyone getting suspicious about what’s going on over here, do we? Play along, Ronan. Pretend you’re into me, just for a few minutes. I promise my knives will stay in my boots.”
She knew his name. Despite his misgivings, he liked the way she said it, drawing out the vowels. Perhaps sensing his uncertainty, she tugged on his belt again. This time he let her pull him close until his hips nestled against her inner thighs. The pose felt far more comfortable than he had any right to be. Her heat and scent made him painfully aware of how long it had been since he’d enjoyed the warmth between a woman’s thighs.
He bent his head and brushed her ear with his lips. “How do you know me?”
“We have a mutual friend,” she said softly. Her fingertips traveled over his abdominal muscles, following their hard lines, not as a lover might, but in a way that made him think she was assessing him somehow. Her voice hardened. “We met before you fucked off to find yourself, or whatever it is you’re doing in dive bars like this one with lonely little bartenders.”
“It’s not what you think.” He caught her hand before it slid into the waistband of his jeans and held on when she tried to free herself from his grip. “She’s my client’s daughter. He’s paying me to keep an eye out for her abusive boyfriend.”
She studied him for a long time. “Fine. I believe you.”
With her free hand, she traced a lazy circle on his chest. Her nails were trimmed short—all the better for fighting—but that didn’t stop him from imagining how they’d feel on his skin. “I guess you don’t remember me. Not surprising.” She grabbed his shirt and pulled his head down to hers. “I kept watch over you a few times while you slept,” she murmured, her lips millimeters from his. “While the others had to be away.”
Now he knew her voice. She’d been at his side while he lay sleeping at Alice’s house. She’d talked to him for hours, more than once. He couldn’t remember what she’d said—not one word—but he recalled feeling at peace listening to her speak. He also knew Alice would never have left someone alone with him unless she trusted that person entirely. Alice did not trust easily.
“You’re a friend of Alice’s.” He drew back and looked into her eyes. “Tell me your name.”
When she laughed, he scowled. “Quit playing games,” he snapped. “I can easily find out who you are with one phone call.”
“I was just remembering how many times I asked Alice, Sean, and Malcolm to tell me what you are.” Her smile vanished. “And you haven’t called Alice since you left without saying goodbye, you ungrateful shit. So don’t pretend you’d call her now.”
He opened his mouth, but she kept talking. “You hurt her deeply, you know. I don’t like it when people hurt my friends. Especially half-dead bounty hunters who would have died in a ditch if it weren’t for someone else’s kindness.”
They were once again the only people in the mostly empty lot, so he let go of her hand and took a step back. She didn’t fight to hang onto his shirt, which probably meant she’d feigned all her flirtations.
Of course it was all for show, he berated himself.She’s here because I haven’t checked in with Alice.“That’s between Alice and me,” he said icily. “I owe no one else any explanations, least of all someone who won’t tell me their name.”
“Fine. I’m Arkady Woodall.” She slid off the hood of the car and dusted her hands briskly, as if wiping off his touch. “I’m Alice’s new business partner.”
A private investigator, after he’d asked Alice not to come looking for him until he was ready. His hands squeezed into fists. “She sent you to find me?”
“No. She was actually pretty clear aboutnotwanting me to look for you.”
Ronan’s shoulders relaxed. So Alice hadn’t betrayed him after all. He wasn’t surprised that Arkady looked completely unrepentant about going against Alice’s wishes. She seemed the type to play by her own rules, like Alice. Interesting they’d decided to become business partners. They must have more in common than a penchant for pissing other people off.
“If that’s the case, why did you track me down?” he demanded.
“Couple of reasons, none of which you need to worry your pretty little head about.”
He growled under his breath. Another evasion. And here he’d thoughtAlicewas difficult to get along with. “How did you find me?”