Page 24 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“Please join us,” the handsome blond gentleman offers, motioning his hand to the booth.
Harlow slides into the spare space next to him, meaning I have no choice but to sit next to Isaac. The instant I slip into the booth, he leans in to take a sizable whiff of my scent.
“Fuck, you smell good.”
His voice is ruggedly smooth, sending a thrill through my body from the strands of my hair to the tips of my toes.I try to conceal my smile at his compliment, but my lips curve upward, giving away my true feelings. This is the first time I’ve seen Isaac since the morning I left his apartment six weeks ago.Oh, well, that’s a blatant lie. I haven’t seen him in person since that day would be a more accurate response. He’s still under investigation by the FBI, and I’m still required to scan all the tedious, meaningless tasks he gets photographed doing every day into the Bureau’s database. I just haven’t seen him personally.
I probably shouldn’t say ‘tedious, meaningless tasks’ as I’m sure some people would see multimillion-dollar business takeovers as a riveting experience, but it doesn’t match the impression of what one would expect a suspected mob boss to do every day.
I’ve tried relentlessly to eradicate Isaac from my thoughts the past six weeks. I’ve read every file the FBI has on him to taint my interest in him, but nothing has worked. As unavoidable as the plague, everywhere I go, Isaac is right there in front of me.
Dangling Isaac in front of me is like taking a kid to a candy store and telling her she must buy a piece of fruit. Even though you know the candy will give you cavities and make your hips wider, you still want the candy. Isaac isn’t good for me. I should stay away from him, but when he is dangled in front of me, my inhibitions evaporate.
Isaac runs his index finger along my forearm, causing the hairs on my body to bristle.“How do you know Cormack?”
“Who?” My one word is wheezy from his close proximity.
He points to the blond gentleman seated across from us.“Cormack.”
“I don’t know him. He just offered for us to be seated with him when we couldn’t get a table.”
Scooting across the bench, I try to increase the space between our bodies since we’re sitting intimately close to each other. My body’s awareness of Isaac’s proximity is wreaking havoc with my shrewdness.
His lips crimp at my action before shifting closer to me, leaving less room between us than there was previously. Rolling my shoulders, I firm my stance. I try to keep my focus planted on Cormack and Harlow gabbing across from us, but my eyes incessantly sneak glances at Isaac, whose eyes remain planted on me.
“How do you know Cormack?” I ask, endeavoring to keep our conversation in friendly territory.
“We met in college. He was my roommate slash manager.”
“Manager?” My curiosity is piqued as to why someone like Isaac would require a manager.
He smirks vainly. “Not that type of manager. No one is the boss of me, baby.”
I try not to sway toward him, but this is the first time he has referred to me by a nickname. Call me crazy. Call me a freak, but I liked hearing it.
“I fought my way through college. Literally.”
“You didn’t fight, you just showed up,” Cormack interrupts, his tone cheeky.
“Don’t believe anything this guy tells you,” Cormack banters, gesturing his head to Isaac. “He acts all innocent, then bam, you’ll be on your ass before you know it.”
“Who are you to talk? You’re the one who created the ruse,” Isaac jests, his lips tugged into a broad grin.
“It worked, though, didn’t it?” Cormack arches his brow into his blond hairline.
Isaac doesn’t respond. He merely laughs a thick, vociferous chuckle that makes my pussy pulsate with desire.
“Come on, out with it,” Harlow requests a short time later, her eyes bouncing between Cormack and Isaac. “This is more suspenseful than theGame of Thronescliffhanger. You can’t share tidbits of information, then leave us hanging. We need details. Very informative details.”
“All right.” Cormack leans over the table to build the suspense. “Imagine Isaac all decked out in corduroy trousers, a pair of leather-strapped sandals, a button-up, short-sleeve shirt two sizes too small, and a pair of suspenders.”
“I didn’t wear fucking suspenders,” Isaac interrupts.Although his voice sounds stern, his eyes glimmer with mischief.
“It was a few years ago. Maybe my memory isn’t as good as it was, but I swear at least once I got you into a pair of suspenders.”
Both Harlow’s and my chuckles break the silence surrounding us.
My gleeful eyes turn to Isaac. Even decked out in the most hideous, unsightly clothes you could find, he would still be the most strikingly handsome man I’ve ever seen. It is, after all, what’s under the clothing that’s the most appealing.
