Page 43 of Another Girl Lost

“Is that badge supposed to scare me?” the man demanded.

Dawson stood and glanced toward the bartender, who reached below the bar and pulled out a bat. “He’s a former cop. And there are about ten other cops in this bar I know. We’ll all happily escort you out of the establishment, or better, to a holding cell.”

The man held up his hands. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re harassing me,” Margo said. “Detective Dawson, what would you like me to do? Do I press charges?”

A few men around them stood at their tables. None moved toward the bar, but it was clear they were paying attention.

The man’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Margo, but finally his hands raised. “Fuck you, bitch.”

“A man of words,” Margo said.

Brad turned and left the bar. Margo reached for her glass, as if the matter were closed. Dawson remained standing in case Brad doubled back.

“What’re you doing tonight, Dawson?” she asked.

“Trying to stay out of a bar fight.”

Margo tossed a twenty on the bar. “My hotel is across the street. Care to join me, or would you rather wait until last call and see what’s left?”

His gaze settled on her face. Fuck, she was a stunner. Women like her didn’t go for men like him. “Are you playing games with me now, Margo?”

She wriggled off the stool, drawing his gaze along the thin column of her neck. “Nope. Just a gal who doesn’t have the best taste in men.”

That teased a smile. “But you want me?”

She arched a brow. “Is that a yes or a no, Dawson?”

Maybe he wasn’t the cream of the crop. He sure as shit had been passed over for promotion, and his ex-wife’s drama had likely tanked his future in the department. But he was smart enough to understand a lucky break. He took a long pull on his beer.

“How did you pick a dump hotel like the one across the street?”

She arched a brow. “Are you familiar with it?”

“I am.” What were the chances they were staying in the same hotel? “And I don’t picture you there.”

She laughed. “Yes or no?”

“It’s a yes.”

She trailed long fingers over his shoulders and walked toward the door. He tossed a couple of twenties on the bar and followed. She had a tight ass, and when she walked, it swayed seductively. He grew hard.

Outside, she didn’t glance back as she crossed the street toward the hotel. It wasn’t fancy, midgrade at best, and he’d been honest when he said he didn’t place a woman like her here.

In the lobby, he glanced toward the reception desk. The clerk was watching his phone screen and not paying any attention to them. Margo moved with ease down a first-floor hallway, and he followed her to room 109 as she fished a key from her purse. Despite the many warnings of on-the-job complications his left brain was all but shouting, he continued onward.

She unlocked the door located five doors from the emergency exit and twenty feet from the lobby and the distracted clerk.

Her hair framed her face, highlighting a relaxed profile as she pushed open the door. He lingered back a step, watching as she flipped on the light.

His hand on his weapon, he followed, glancing in the bathroom and confirming there was no one there before closing the door. Old habits.

She sat on the edge of a bed covered in a paisley-print comforter and pulled off her high-heeled boots. Her toes were painted a bright pink.

“You aren’t scared, are you?” she asked.

“Cautious.”

---