Loving the Lone Wolf. Ingrid Weaver
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her way closer.
Fine. She knew how to handle that. If Rand was like most of Stephan’s associates, he’d be too busy ogling her to realize he was about to be played. She decided to put on a show for him, too, and give him what he expected. She added a hint of extra sway to her hips.
This had to work. She couldn’t let herself think of what she might be driven to do if it didn’t.
She paused when she reached his table, inhaled from the diaphragm to calm her nerves and held out her hand. “Hello, Mr. Rand,” she said, deliberately pitching her voice low so that he would have to draw closer in order to hear. “I’m Kelly Jennings. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
He hesitated briefly before he rose to his feet. He was a tall man. Despite the four-inch heels Kelly wore, her eyes were only on a level with his chin. A loosely knotted tie hung from the open collar of his white shirt, likely a token concession to the Starlight’s dress code, but the jacket that stretched across his wide shoulders was biker black leather. It creaked as he extended his arm to take her hand. “I wasn’t expecting Volski’s man to be a woman,” he said.
The deep voice went along with his size. It was as masculine as the scent of leather and the hint of spicy aftershave that rose with him. She cranked up the wattage of her smile. “I hope you’re not disappoint—”
She never finished the inane comment. The first touch of his palm against her own stole her breath. Maybe it was due to anxiety, or maybe it was a result of fatigue, but when he closed his fingers around hers, she felt a thrill chase across her nerves.
His hand was large, his fingers long and tanned. The strength in his grip was wrapped in a gentleness that was at odds with his size and his choice of wardrobe. Kelly lifted her gaze from his hand to his face.
Good Lord, she thought. Whatever crimes this man did for a living, whatever he was on the inside, there was no denying that the outside was gorgeous. He had a square jaw and broad cheekbones, with a bold hawklike nose that evoked the image of a native warrior. His jet-black hair was cut short and combed straight back from his forehead, but he would have looked just as good with it long and braided. She could picture him on horseback, his shoulders clad in buckskin and his chiseled face bathed by moonlight…
“Surprised would be more accurate,” he murmured.
Kelly blinked, wrenching her mind back to business. What was wrong with her tonight? Rand’s appearance meant nothing to her. She wasn’t looking for a man. She was looking for a patsy, a sucker. A scapegoat. She gestured to the chair beside his. “Well, I hope you mean that in a good way. Do you mind if I join you?”
He held her chair for her. It wasn’t a showy courtesy, it seemed to come naturally to him. He resumed his seat, picked up a book of matches from the table and lit the candle.
His eyes were the color of amber, reflecting the flame with flecks of gold. And despite her revealing neckline, he kept his gaze on her face. “I have what you need,” he said quietly.
How right he was, she thought. “That sounds promising. Would you care to elaborate?”
“I’m in the transportation business. Volski’s looking for a new method to move his product. The math seems simple enough.”
“We checked out your background, Mr. Rand. We heard you ran a successful operation in Detroit ten years ago, but your experience was limited to stealing cars.”
“I prefer to regard it as redistributing them.”
“That’s an interesting way to put it.”
“It’s accurate. I either broke them down for parts or shipped them overseas.”
“Yes, so I heard. You had a good reputation.” She maintained her smile as she continued to scrutinize him. “But you dropped out of sight. Why is it that no one seems to have heard of you since then?”
“Because I’ve moved up from stealing cars, and I’m very good at what I do.”
“And that is?”
“I told you. Transportation.”
She crossed her arms on the table and angled her shoulders toward him. Cool air wafted across her breasts as her neckline gaped. She didn’t pull back—she wanted to put him off balance and she would take any advantage she could get. “You must understand why we would be concerned. Your timely arrival seems too convenient. We need to be sure you are what you claim to be.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware you would require references. I left my résumé in my other suit.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. Still keeping his gaze on hers, he moved the candleholder aside. “You might want to be careful where you lean. That dress looks combustible.”
“Do you like it?”
“If I say yes, is it going to help our negotiations or hurt them?”
This was going to be tougher than she thought. She let her smile fade. “Perhaps you could explain why we should trust you, Mr. Rand.”
“That goes both ways, Miss Jennings.”
“Oh, please. There’s no need to be so formal. Call me Kelly.”
“Let’s quit playing games, Kelly. Volski must already trust me or he wouldn’t have arranged this meeting.”
“He’s interested, yes, but—”
“But he sent you to distract me so he can negotiate a better deal.”
Normally, that would be true. Stephan had recognized her potential from the start and had been quick to exploit it, but this time it was her own agenda, not his, that had her pulling out all the stops. “Nathan,” she began. She splayed her hand on the bare skin at the base of her throat in a gesture that was a surefire attention getter. “I may call you Nathan, may I not?”
He touched his index finger to her knuckle, then traced his way down the back of her hand until he rested his fingertip on the upper curve of her breast. Incredibly, his gaze still didn’t waver from hers. “You can call me whatever you like, Kelly, as long as it doesn’t include fool. I’m here for business, and regardless of what you’re trying to accomplish with this lovely display—” he pressed lightly, stroking her breast along the edge of her little finger “—I believe you’re here for business, too.”
She had to exercise every ounce of her control to stay in character and keep from jerking back. Not because someone might see them and report this to Stephan—with her back to the room and the table positioned in the shadows, no one else would be aware of Nathan’s caress. And not because the contact repulsed her. It was quite the opposite. His touch on her breast wasn’t invasive, it was tender, almost…regretful. This was as unexpected as the thrill she’d felt from his handshake and so help her, despite what she knew about him, she found it pleasant.
That was why it had to end. This wasn’t what she had planned. Just who was distracting whom? She eased her shoulders back, reducing the contact until all she could feel was the warmth from his fingertip.
“I have what you need,” he repeated. “I have a network in place that can move the merchandise Volski has stockpiled in Vladivostok.” He withdrew his hand, ending the caress as casually as he had started it. He crossed his arms. “The only question here is if you can make it worth my while.”
Her skin tingled where he had touched her. Beneath it, her heart started to pound. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She fought to keep her eagerness from showing. “You seem like an intelligent man, Nathan. Intelligent and ambitious. I like that.”
“And you sing as if there’s a hell of a lot more to you than you’re pretending, Kelly. I’m not sure whether I like that or not.”
This time she did jerk. His touch on her body was one thing, but that comment was just too personal. Pretending? God, he couldn’t possibly know the truth. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”
“Was