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Unexpected. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.

Unexpected - Lori Foster


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shoulder, held up her hands to indicate her presence. “They complied.”

      Eyes closed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. Ray noticed that his hands were large, sprinkled with brown hair. They looked like capable hands, not the pampered, smooth hands of a rich boy.

      Catching herself, she jerked her attention back to his face. He scrutinized her, then asked with some disbelief, “Do you have any idea what it is I want from you?”

      “Sure.”

      With a touch of disbelief, his gaze slid all over her again, appraising, before both brows lifted. Ray never moved a muscle. He could look a dozen times if it made him feel better. She wouldn’t be changing.

      “I assumed ‘Ray’ would be a man.”

      “Assumptions are nasty things. They can get you into trouble.”

      He waved that away. “What’s your real name?”

      “Ray is my real name.”

      “Your whole name then.”

      “Why does it matter?”

      Ray could feel his growing tension deep inside herself. It was an odd sensation, one she’d never experienced before. She half expected an explosion at any minute and braced for it, making herself tense, too.

      “I’m wondering,” he said slowly, his unnerving attention on her mouth again, “if there’s some feminine nuance I’m missing.”

      She smirked. “In me, or my name?”

      His gaze snapped back to hers and he barked a laugh. “Honey, despite the hard attitude, your appearance is most definitely unmanly.”

      He said that with . . . interest? No, no way. She was lousy at judging men and their various moods in regard to the whole man/woman thing, but she understood reality very well, thank you. No man in his right mind would be thinking of anything but the mission. Not with her. Not now.

      And most definitely not after the mission ended, when her special skills had been revealed.

      During her ruminations, the silence grew, and finally, because she had no reason not to, she said, “Ray Jean Vereker. But I go by Ray and only Ray. You’re given fair warning right now not to use my middle name, ever.”

      Oddly enough, her warning evoked amusement. Oh, he didn’t laugh, didn’t even smile. But she saw the mischievous twinkle that entered those mysterious eyes. “Yeah? Or what?”

      Done with the small talk, with the nonsense, Ray said, “Or I’ll walk out and you’ll be left to settle for the second meanest son of a bitch there is.”

      A reluctant, slightly crooked grin tugged at his mouth, adding to his appeal. “You’re really that good?”

      Ray didn’t hesitate. “I’m really that good.” She waited for his sarcasm, perhaps some outright derision.

      Instead, he said, “Will you be offended if I ask for credentials?”

      He wasn’t dismissing her out of hand? Well . . . that surprised her. Bemused, Ray straightened in her seat. “ ’Course not.” She pulled the briefcase up to the tabletop and with quick, deft movements opened the lock. She extracted the topmost papers and slid them across the table. “I’d think you were an idiot as well as a fool if you didn’t.”

      He’d been reaching for the papers, but paused with her words. “You want to explain that?”

      What the hell? He didn’t sound particularly insulted, more like intrigued. They needed to start out on the right foot, and that meant making him understand that if he accepted her, she was the boss and her rules were to be followed.

      Her first rule would be to get him out of his fancy clothes and into gear much more suited to their purpose. That thought roused an image of the process, and unfortunately, it stalled at the part where he was out of his clothes, rather than in them. She’d be willing to bet he looked real good naked.

      And if she didn’t stop thinking that way, things were going to get way too complicated.

      Clearing her throat, Ray leaned on the table, making certain she had his undivided attention. “We’ll be lucky if we get out of here without someone trying to take your wallet or watch or both. And the men in here wouldn’t care if you got hurt in the bargain. Not that I’d let it happen,” she assured him. “When you’re with me, you’ll be safe. Part of my job is to protect you, and as I already said, I’m good at my job.”

      “Like my own personal bodyguard, huh?”

      His amusement stung. “An astute man adapts to his surroundings. An astute man knows it isn’t always necessary to flaunt his position in life. We’ll have our hands full without borrowing trouble for reasons of vanity.”

      His expression sharpened as the amusement faded away. She’d made him mad. Very mad. It shone in every line of his taut face, the fire in his gaze.

      Ray rolled her eyes. He wasted his time trying to intimidate her. Regardless of his good looks, she knew he’d be no different from any other wealthy man. Easy to take, and easier to leave. “Look, Mr. Connors . . .”

      He snorted rudely. “You feel comfortable enough with me to throw out insults, so you may as well call me Eli.”

      He’d surprised her again. She’d expected a blast of his anger, reciprocal insults, anything other than that calm, dry wit.

      Ray didn’t like surprises. They were dangerous and could easily lead to trouble. She had to stop thinking she had him figured out. Maybe, just maybe, he was unique from the rest.

      “It wasn’t an insult I gave you—”

      “Fool? Idiot?” He snorted again, forcing her to fight off a smile.

      “All right, it was, but I didn’t really mean it that way. Think of it more as an instruction.”

      “An instruction on survival?”

      “Why not? I was told you wanted to stick close, that you insisted on accompanying me when I go in.” And that’s what really nettled her. She worked alone. Always. Not since that awful time long ago had she allowed a partner. But damn it, she needed the pay a job like his would bring.

      She drew a deep breath and continued. “Since it appears I have no say in that half-witted decision—”

      “You don’t. It’s my brother over there, so I’m going along.”

      “—and since I have no intention of causing myself extra worry just so you can dress in your finest, you’re going to have to follow my lead. In everything. Do I make myself clear?”

      There was another long hesitation while Eli searched her face. She felt . . . touched again, as if he somehow saw below the surface. Impossible. She excelled at hiding all thought, all expression, and no one, certainly not a fancy-pants rich boy, would discern anything about her that she wanted kept private.

      Finally, coming to some silent conclusion that he didn’t share, Eli said, “The watch is from my grandfather and it never comes off.”

      Never wasn’t acceptable, but for now, Ray let it go. “And the jacket?”

      His crooked grin reappeared. “The oldest one I own.”

      She would not be charmed by that boyish smile. Straightening the papers on the table between them gave her something to look at other than those devastating eyes. “Gotcha. Well then, we’ll just need to shop before we leave.” Ray glanced up and away. “That is, if you still want me.”

      Uncertainty hit her the second she said it, and she shoved the papers toward him. Affidavits, referrals, and recommendations made up her resume. There were no specific details on any missions because every case was covert, guaranteed high-priority privacy protection.

      The papers would detail her abilities, her experience, and


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