Page 2 of Stealthy Seduction
Unruffled, he tore his attention from the stunning woman wearing what could only be a beach cover-up for hot tub night and glanced at his cards. “You guys were all trained the same as I was to profile a person.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. How did you know it wasIzzy?” Mason’s lips were quirked as if he suspected Steele was hiding something.
He tipped his jaw toward the woman. “Look at her.”
That body.
“Her height. Five-four. The scar on her left thumb.”
She tucked her thumb inside her fist once more and her amber eyes flashed to him.
For a beat, he soaked in the warmth of Izzy Cruz’s gaze. It was like standing in a patch of late-afternoon sun after weeks of cold, the heat sinking through his skin straight to places he’d sworn were untouchable. It was dangerous, that kind of warmth—tempting him to step closer when he should be holding the line.
“Hi, Izzy.” Steele’s South Carolina drawl sounded somehow thicker in his ear.
She gave him a flat look. “Special Operative Steele.”
A few of the guys said hello to her. He couldn’t help but noticed that she offered them smiles and greetings that were more personal than repeating their name and title.
In the kitchen, the blender started up.
Alyssa touched Izzy’s arm. “Come on, Izzy. Kennedy is making her famous margaritas.”
“Ooh, count me in.” Dante sprang to his feet at the mention of Kennedy, his significant other, but their leader, Constantine aka Con, pointed at the chair.
“You’re not going anywhere. And alcohol is off-limits while we’re on duty.”
Even though they all knew the rules, a grumble rippled around the table. Dante dropped back into his seat.
Steele couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking to Izzy’s legs as she followed Alyssa out of the room.
The game resumed, but they had to raise their voices to be heard over the blender and the talk of the women who were all gathered—Sophie, May, Alyssa and Kennedy.
And Izzy.
He’d only seen her once before, when one of the guys on the team tracked her down and brought her back into Alyssa’s life. While he knew the pair spent time together on occasion, he hadn’t crossed paths with her again until today.
The woman even looked good in a damn blackout hood.
She drifted into his view, framed by the doorway, that gauzy white dress that he knew was most likely covering a swimsuit floating around her curvy thighs.
A vision of Izzy in a bikini flashed through his mind. Tiny laces crisscrossing her bare skin, itty bitty triangles over each full breast…and lower.
His gut gripped at the private slideshow scrolling through his head.
May said something to her, and she swung around to answer, which put her in profile and gave Steele the chance to study her without her taking notice.
He wasn’t exaggerating when he told the guys he memorized everyone he saw in passing. The skill had come in handy more than once in his career, but Izzy Cruz’s legs were pretty noteworthy. The last time she’d been on the Blackout Charlie base, she had been wearing shorts, and he recalled every inch of those legs.
“Taking your time to study that scar on Izzy’s thumb some more?” Mason gibed from across the table.
“He’s taking his time, all right.” Dante grinned and then laid a card down.
“Conservin’ energy,” Mason added.
He got his head back in the game and made a good play that wiped the grin off Mason’s face when he was forced to fold.
He shot his buddy a smug glance.
