Operation London (7 page)

She had meant for the comment to ease some of his worry, but her flippant delivery had forced him to wonder what exactly he thought of her
. It made her more than a little anxious that he was so concerned with what she thought of him.

"I don't know you all that well
. But you don't seem that ruthless," she tried, the words tangling and holding tight against her tongue.

A low laugh escaped his throat
. "So I am pretty much driven by money, but not in an intimidating way?"

"Let me stop while I'm ahead
. I can't talk about you anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because it bores me," she lied with a challenging smile. He met her smile and raised it with his own dazzling grin.

"Liar," he accused, his voice a caress.

"Let's talk about something else," she said quietly, leaning in close to him to indicate that she meant business.

"Fair enough
. What is a beautiful young computer consultant who is changing careers doing with herself these days?"

There was territory Ava did not relish treading on
. She was absolutely going beyond a curious bystander by tracking this whole eyeglass thing, and she had a feeling that Miguel would take an unusual interest in curbing her pseudo-illegal activities.

"I've actually been at a loss for stuff to do
. I'm thinking of taking up kickboxing," Ava improvised. She had legitimately always wanted to take up kickboxing, so it was only a partial lie.

"Really?  I box at a place that has an excellent program."  He rummaged through his pockets and came up with a small cream business card.

"Piper's House of Pain!" she laughed.

"Don't laugh," he grinned
. "Piper has kicked my ass more than once. She's incredible, and she keeps everything top notch, only the best for her clients. The facility is excellent, the staff is phenomenal. I think you and I should get together and make a date. So I can show you around the place," he added slyly.

"I don't know about that," she began, but he waved her uncertainties away with an easy glide of his hand
.

"It's nothing romantic, Ava
. Just because you're gorgeous and athletic and incredibly intelligent doesn't mean I'm going to create some cheap scheme to get you on a date with me. Especially somewhere where I can show off my skills," he said mischievously.

"So you're claiming to have skills?"

"I guess you won't know for sure unless you take me up on my offer." 

She hesitated.

"Come on, it's just a tour of a loud, wild, noisy gym. You'll be safe from any advance I try to make," he coaxed, his velvet voice twining in through her ears and making it difficult for her to think.

"Alright," she said finally; better yet she finally said what she'd been waiting to say the whole time.

"Great. And if you get hungry after and we have to eat, then we have to eat," he smiled.

"Miguel," she said, cocking one eyebrow and trying to lace that increasingly erotic
name with some amount of aggravation.

"And if we need to work off some of that food with a dance, then that's what we'll have to do," he continued, sliding his coffee eyes over her, drawing her into the image of their bodies twined together in a seductive samba.

"Don't push your luck," she said, her voice betraying a real desperation.

Because every single thing he said seemed like a wonderful idea to her
. And her mind's eye couldn't let go of the image of the two of them sharing that kind of intimate time together.

The chili came at that moment, breaking the heady spell he was casting over her
. Heat and spice drifted up to her nose, pulling down into her stomach and making her feel the distinct desire to savor this meal. The first spoonful was heaven.

"Oh my God," she murmured turning the morsels over in her mouth, focusing on the burst of taste and heat that played on her tongue.

Miguel felt a strange tightening in his throat as he watched her eat. It was obvious that she relished the experience of eating. A woman who was so passionately involved with even the simplest of life's pleasures waved red flags in Miguel's mind. She was no doubt passionate about everything she did, and the need he felt for her grew every time he imagined another experience that he could enjoy in her unfettered company.

Right then she had pursed her red lips delicately, her gray eyes closed in abandon, her head eased back in adoration of her task
. Miguel couldn't help thinking of how much he would love to stride over to her, lift her into his arms, peel every article of clothing away from her slim, athletic body and pleasure her until he made her sob. She opened her smoldering silver eyes and almost forced him to act out on his fantasy.

"So, you like it?" he asked, and she was surprised to hear the simple question cloaked in an almost brittle undertone
. As if he was forcing his voice to ask those words when he wanted to ask about something completely off topic.

"I love it," she said, nodding with heavenly absolutism
. "This is wonderful."

"Actually, it is one of the dishes I asked
Arbor
to add. They were reluctant to try something so elemental and spicy," he said, pausing to hold her gaze as they considered one another. "They're used to more complicated, subdued fare."

"This is genius
. If your restaurant is going to serve this type of food, that alone will be enough to make it a success," she said her eyes betraying an honesty that had no root in any games. She wasn't trying to seduce him or flirt with him or kiss his ass. She was just giving him a true compliment and encouraging his success.

"Thank you," Miguel said
. He felt another catch in his throat. This woman, for all her worldliness, had most impressed him with her quick kindness. She wasn't jaded or hard, and he found that strangely intoxicating.

She finished the last of her chili in easy silence, trying to be sure nothing fell out of her mouth or was dropped onto her shirt
. Miguel couldn't take his eyes off of her and it was making her downright nervous.

He had never been attracted to a woman like her before
. Many beautiful women had crossed his path, but his family's traditional Mexican heritage dictated that a woman stay home and maintain a pleasant domestic environment while a man sought fortune and adventure. There were more than a few lovely creatures who were caring and intelligent, but none had made his senses prick like Ava did. He knew intuitively that she would share his love of danger and excitement. No one made his blood run hot and ready and his muscles bunch into pounce mode like she did. She brought out all that was animalistic in him.

She had finished her chili and was trying to break him out of the deep trance he seemed to be in so she could get back to her case
. Ava toyed with the rim of her glass self consciously, trying not to look like an idiot in front of Miguel.

"Well, I had better be going," she said finally, after her silvery eyes had focused on everything in the room there was to focus on other than his intense eyes, boring into her
. She noticed a slight grimace cross his face, as if the words upset him somehow.

"Then I will see you tonight," he said smoothly.

"Tonight?"

"Our date
. Kickboxing....and whatever else we wind up planning."

"Miguel, I can't tonight," she said, trying to come up with an excuse before he asked her.

"Cancel it, reschedule it, forget about it. I need to see you tonight," he laughed, but again there was a hard edge to his humor. Presenting the words as a joke failed to hide the true intensity that was behind them.

It warmed Ava to the core and whet her appetite for much, much more.

"Alright. Seven o'clock."

"Seven it is," he smiled, getting up to pull out her chair
.

His hard body was right behind her, shadowing her every move, his large tanned hand cresting the small of her back as he walked with her toward the door
. She felt like she was being hunted and protected at the same time.

At the register she pulled out her tooled red wallet to pay and Miguel covered it with his
hand, using the closeness as an excuse to run his fingertips over her soft skin.

"You will never pay here as long as I work here," he said, his eyes serious and hard.

"You make it sound like a vow," she laughed, putting her wallet away. Normally she would have insisted to pay. She made good money; there was no need to let someone else pay for her. But something about those rich mocha eyes told her that arguing would get her nowhere.

"It
is
a vow. And you'll soon find that I always keep my word," he breathed into her ear, pulling her close to him. Ava's lungs filled with the powerful aroma of him, part citrus, part heady aftershave and completely male.

Ava broke away before he cast any more of a spell over her and made her way to her car, getting inside quickly and waving as she pulled away.

Once again she had the urge to scream, this time from frustration instead of excitement. She liked Miguel a lot, but this was all happening too fast. The last time she had been with someone it had been so much time and effort for so little satisfaction. Everything did feel completely different this time, but she could never be one hundred per cent sure. The only thing she was that sure about was Miguel's ability to send her reeling, and she certainly wasn't content that she liked that loss of control very much.

Back on the road, she realized that she had lost precious time talking to Miguel and was way behind schedule for her case
. She shook her head at her own driven reflection in the rear view mirror. It was impossible for her to live without a mission, without a sense of purpose.

Weaving in and out of traffic to pass her slower road mates, Ava was too busy analyzing her complicated life to pay attention to the bright flash of red and white lights
behind her. It wasn't until the officer put on his sirens that she slowed down and realized that it had probably seemed like she was leading this cop on a wild goose chase.

She pulled over as soon as it seemed safe and held her breath, waiting for the officer to approach the car.

"Good afternoon, officer," she smiled, squinting until his body covered the glare of the sun. Her smile faded as she looked into the humorless, set face of the man in front of her.

"Afternoon, ma'am
. Please take out your license and registration," he said, not looking at her, already clicking his pen and preparing to fill out the ticket.

Ava was rummaging in her glove compartment when she heard the officer's walkie talkie click on.

"Officer Denson, we need backup on Birmingham and Joseph St.," came a young, rushed voice over the scratchy transmitter.

Ava held her breath and put on her most apologetic smile as the officer held his pen in hesitation for a few more seconds
. He finally clicked it shut and bent down low near her car.

"Ma'am, I am sure that I do not need to tell you that you were maintaining a speed dangerously above that of the legal limit
. You are a threat to your own self and all other motorists. I don't expect to catch you in this type of reckless behavior again. You're left with a warning," he said, putting an enormous emphasis on the last word.

"Thank you," Ava called to back of the rapidly retreating man
. Beneath her very real relief she felt excitement swirling in her gut. The angry cop was headed the same place she was, and something was already brewing.

As he pulled out and sped away, Ava kept one eye fixed on his retreating car, careful to
keep enough distance between them that he could not possibly pick her up in his rear view mirror. Every swerve, every covered mile brought her closer to her intended location and made her excitement increase.

After about ten minutes Officer Denson turned off his lights and slowed down
. He parked his squad car outside of a tenement house that was crumbling full of graffiti. Two small children crouched on the steps, writing with colored chalk on the bricks. They didn't even pause to look up as the officer entered the building through half open door.

Ava slid down low until she could just see over the dashboard
. Her shiny new car stuck out like a sore thumb, and she couldn't resist the urge to double check that all of her windows were locked. For a good twenty minutes Ava heard nothing. She was beginning to get worried when a woman's screams shattered the silence.

Officer Denson and another officer came out dragging a handcuffed man with scruffy hair and no shirt on
. A woman came streaming down the steps behind them, waving a red t-shirt over her head and wailing, pounding her fists over and over on her head.

Ava grimaced as she watched the woman go wild, screaming and sobbing
. The man, on the other hand, appeared oblivious to everything around him. He walked like a zombie, in a daze. He was pushed roughly into the car and the red shirt was grabbed out of the woman's hands before they pulled away.