The Specialist. Dani Sinclair
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might not be much to look at, but she did have spunk, he decided.
“Buster?”
She set her jaw, planted her fists on her hips and glared at him. “Your name is Rafael Alvarez,” she snapped out, “but you’re called Rafe. Six feet one inch tall, brown hair, green eyes, half Spanish and half Irish,” she recited. “And all baloney,” she added defiantly.
“Baloney?”
“Your parents died in a car crash when you were an infant. Your grandparents raised you until your freshman year of college. Tragically, they died along with a lot of other people in that fire on board the cruise ship Althea.”
His amusement dissolved at her recital.
“Their deaths left you alone, but financially secure,” she continued. “You went back to school where you got in with a rowdy crowd. Your sophomore year culminated in your drunken arrest for grand theft auto. A friend boosted another friend’s car before picking you up along with several young females after a party. All of you were drunk and there was beer in the car.”
Rafe flinched at the memory.
“Fortunately, the police stopped the driver before anyone was hurt. You spent a full night in jail and hired a high-priced lawyer to avoid serious criminal charges. Apparently, you wised up after that. You dropped your former associates, changed your major and went on to study law, though you never took the bar exam.”
How did she know all this?
“That’s enough.” His soft voiced tone would have warned off anyone who knew him. Kendra never batted an eye.
“Next, you applied to the police academy, but you were too much of a maverick for all their rules and regulations. You dropped out almost right away. Or maybe they suggested you leave. Either way, you did some research of your own. I’m guessing you stumbled over the very quiet, very private organization known as Texas Confidential.”
Rafe drew in a breath, his body vibrating with sudden tension. “Who are you?”
“We already covered that. Then—”
He grabbed her shoulders in a punishing grip. Instantly, he relaxed his hold because she felt astonishingly delicate beneath his broad hands. While he wanted to scare her enough to interrupt her recital, he didn’t want to hurt her. Her eyes widened behind her glasses giving her a frightened, baby owl appearance.
Rafe gentled his hold even further when she licked her lips nervously. He followed the motion of her tongue, annoyed to notice that she had very nice lips—when they weren’t pursed in disdain.
“I want to know who you are.”
“I told you,” she stated boldly, “I’m Kendra Kincade.”
He crowded her until she was pressed along his jacket. The action defined her slenderness against his much larger masculinity. He watched her eyes widen in final acknowledgment of his size and gender and their isolation. Nearby, a cow snorted at a patch of ground.
“Who is Kendra Kincade?” he asked softly.
She lifted her chin a little higher, though she flinched when he took the back of his hand and ran it down the side of her face. He felt her body quiver. The softness of her skin took him by surprise yet again. Her long, unstylish hair tumbled messily about her shoulders while a beguiling scent of shampoo filled his nostrils. She wasn’t his type by a long shot. Still, he found himself aware that she was definitely a woman. That firm round curve of flesh he’d held so fleetingly had left an indelible impression.
Some of her assertiveness drained away as he continued to hold her shoulders now. She licked her lips once more and planted her hands on her hips. “I told you I’m—”
“My partner,” he finished for her. Time for her to comprehend the risk she was taking. He trailed his fingers over the curve of her cheek, sliding them along the slope of her neck to where the V of her open jacket revealed the cotton material of her blouse. “But if you know so much about me, you know I prefer selecting my own—partners.”
Rafe didn’t feel the least bit sorry for using his own brand of intimidation. The woman was playing a dangerous game of some sort. A game that could have serious consequences if she tried this approach on the wrong man. He let his fingers slide beneath the top button of her blouse in a subtle warning caress.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The abrupt prick of the knife tip against his exposed throat came as a complete shock.
“Back up, Alvarez. I mean it.” There was nothing teasing in her tone.
While it would have been a simple matter to take the knife from her, Rafe was more curious than alarmed. This was not the effect his legendary charm generally had on women. Of course, he wasn’t exerting a whole lot of charm right now. Still, no other woman had ever caught him so totally off guard as this skinny handful of a female with the glittering eyes.
Rafe dropped his hand and took a step back, watching her intently.
“Do I make you that nervous, darlin’?”
“No, you annoy me that much.”
The knife disappeared with a speed that made him pay attention. She was not what she seemed.
“And stop calling me darling!”
His lips curved at the corners. “Whatever you say, sugar.”
Kendra Kincade looked like she wanted to stomp her booted feet—preferably in the region of his face. Rafe found his lips curving in a reluctant smile that disappeared almost as fast as it had come. He rocked back on his heels, hooked his thumbs in his belt and studied her.
“I assume you’re going to explain why and how you know so much about me?”
Kendra shook the hair out of her face and kept from sighing her relief out loud. Thankfully, he’d finally given her some breathing space. She wasn’t used to being crowded—and he was a very large man.
“Your life is an open book,” she told him.
“Is that right?”
She told herself she was edgy because she didn’t appreciate the way he studied her like some tasty morsel waiting to be sampled. The truth was, she’d been totally unprepared to meet Rafael Alvarez in the flesh.
He looked deceptively relaxed as he nudged his hat further back on his forehead with a knuckle and regarded her. He was toying with her, darn him. The knowledge annoyed her.
“It is for anyone who knows how to operate a computer keyboard,” she affirmed.
“And you do.”
“It’s what I do best.”
“Now that,” he said suggestively, sweeping her body once more with his gaze, “is too bad. There are lots of better things a woman like you should do best.”
The moonlight allowed her to see his gently mocking expression. She’d studied his computer image for hours. She’d thought she knew every nuance of his features, but nothing could have prepared her for the sensual reality of the man himself.
Rafe Alvarez was bigger, more masculine, and far sexier than any picture could convey. His suave, rumbly voice slipped inside her mind like a phantom lover’s caress.
She wasn’t supposed to be feeling this pull of attraction, yet her skin still felt the path his hand, then his fingers, had taken down her face and below. Her heart still hadn’t settled back to a regular rhythm. This would never do. The key to handling a man like Rafe was to keep the upper hand. He was baiting her, but two could play at that game.
“I know everything about you and Mitchell Forbes and his Texas Confidential agents,” she asserted. “I even know your next assignment.” She watched his body tighten. “You’re going after Stephen Rialto.”
She dangled the name between them in