Chapter 3 – Nico
Her chin tipped up, and I knew in that moment she made up her mind to join me before her feet even moved.
For the last few hours, I’d watched her.
At first, it was discreet glances so as not to tip off the Irish that that ball of pure hellfire piqued my interest. The Irish prince never showed, which meant I would have to hunt his ass down later—the fucker.
But at least there was entertainment to watch while I wasted my time.
Now my patience paid off, because she was storming right to me.
How the hell I managed to keep a straight face as her combat boots carved a path through the chaos of drunks was a miracle.
“I’ve been summoned. To what do I owe the pleasure?” She stopped short, only a few feet in front of me.
I took my time looking her over. Back here, it was dark.
But I was close enough to see details like the fact that she probably had just as many tattoos as I did and that her smile was a little bit crooked.
Brown curls escaped the loose binder to fall around her pixie face. Determination flashed deep in her eyes.
I dropped my gaze to take her in and shifted in my seat.
Cavolo, she was gorgeous. A black and yellow flannel was tied high on her waist. The camisole was pulled low, putting her gorgeous breasts on full display, and it hugged her thin stomach before disappearing into the denim cut-offs which were held on her wide hips by a chunky belt.
Patterns of ink decorated her gloriously long legs.
But it was more than the odd and completely out of place clothing that painted the picture.
It was the fire in her hazel eyes. It was the way her chest heaved, unable to hide her nerves.
And most of all, it was the way she’d hunted tonight.
Because there was no other way to describe what she’d done.
This woman had stepped into the bar and made short work of every soul she encountered. Smiles and laughter hid the cunning. She picked each guest with care, taking what she wanted from them and giving nothing back in turn.
Which was exactly why I brought her over.
I wanted a turn.
“Please, have a seat,” I swept my hand at the booth across from me. Anticipation flooded my veins, and my pulse quickened.
“Why?” She slid her hands into her pockets, mirroring the stance I just moved from. Like me, there was nothing nonchalant about it.
“So you can explain why my drink was the only one you turned down.” I chuckled and sat.
She pursed her lips, hesitated for a moment, but then slid into the space across from me. I felt the whisper of air against the leg of my pants. Our long legs ate up the area under the table, and it would be too easy to close the distance and brush against hers.
I held myself back.
“I reached my limit,” she said with a shrug. “I know when to say no.”
“I can respect that.” I flicked my fingers. “But I would like to buy you something to drink.”
Her body was poised, ready to bolt. She watched me as Pat ambled over.
“Yes, sir?” he stuttered.
I arched a brow.
She accepted the dare. “I’ll have a coke, please, Pat.”
The bartender visibly blanched. “I told you, Maggie, we only have Pepsi products.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Yankee, I’ll have a soda pop.”
And just like that, I was hooked. Like every other sap here.
At least I was aware of who and what she was. And that was only because I recognized in her a similar soul. This woman was a predator. At the cheap price of a soda, I was happy to be her prey. Because it meant her attention was on me.
Only, now that it was, I wasn’t certain what to do with it.
“I’ll have the same,” I told the bartender.
Pat scrambled to fetch the drinks, and I toyed with the empty rocks glass in front of me.
“What brings you to Boston, Maggie?” Something about the name didn’t fit.
It was too cutesy. She was nothing like the sweet sounds that accompanied the word.
She tipped her head to the side, judging how much to tell me. “Work.”
I’d watched her give the same answer to the last group of her victims. My Panerai watch scraped against the varnished table as I scooted the empty glass to Pat, who’d returned with the colas.
Maggie spun her glass around, making the ice clink against the sides. “What do you do for work?”
“I’m in upper management.” I took a sip, letting the bubbles wash down my throat.
Dio mio, that was sickly sugary.
“’Course you are,” she muttered.
I adjusted the metal band around my wrist, glancing at the time. She hadn’t been at the table for five minutes, and already I was at a loss for words.
“And what do you do?” I pressed, leaning forward.
Glitter flashed through her eyes. “Property inspection and service.”
That was as much a cover for reality as my answer had been. Not technically a lie, but not the whole truth either.
“Well, here’s your chance: impress me,” I urged. “What do you think of this place?”
Maggie made a show of tapping her chin and looking around. I didn’t miss the way her gaze flickered over me as it swept over the room. That small look, that short glance, set off a burst of something warm in my chest—a place that was usually cold and dead.
There was no denying my attraction. I wanted to keep her here or maybe take her home with me. In the quiet of my room, I could unwrap her, ferret out her secrets, and enjoy her undivided attention.
My dick twitched at the thought.
“It’s a dive bar.” Maggie’s response snapped me out of the wicked trail of thoughts.
“It’s prime real estate here in downtown.
It boasts of a relaxed atmosphere, but with appetizers in the twenty-dollar range and a full meal that could cost a couple hundred bucks, it’s giving the cliental the feeling of slumming it while catering to exactly what they’re used to having. ”
A laugh barked unbidden from me.
Liam McDonagh would hate to hear his beloved pub described as a slum, despite the accurate assessment.
Maybe I would tell him…whenever I managed to hunt his ass down.
I wanted to establish a working relationship with him as soon as possible, since it was never a bad thing to have a strong ally in my back pocket.
I was already amicable with the Italian families, which meant I just needed to make plans with the Irish.
But I pushed aside the weight of business and focused on the present distraction.
“I like that. You aren’t afraid to speak your mind,” I breathed.
Maggie played with her straw, not taking a sip. “I never caught your name.”
For a split second, I almost told her. But since she was hiding behind the ridiculous nom de guerre, I gave her an equally ridiculous response. “Nic.”
“Nic.” She tasted the word. “Okay, Nic, well, it’s been a blast, but I have to catch my bus.”
I stiffened. “You’re taking the bus?”
“Yep.” Maggie slid from the booth. “Sure am.”
I followed and snatched her wrist. The zing of electricity was hot and sharp—and wholly unexpected. I sucked in a breath.
Maggie’s eyes were wide. While a drop of fear danced through the captivating irises, there was something else simmering there as well.
“Let me offer you a ride,” I insisted, hating how hoarse my voice sounded. “Or at least pay for a cab.”
Maggie tugged her arm, but I wasn’t ready to let her go quite yet.
“Not necessary,” she ground out.
I pulled her close, leaning down. The sweet scent of citrus tickled my nose, and I took a deeper breath. “It’s the least I can do, since you’re new in town.”
Maggie laughed, the sound hollow and without a drop of humor. “You’re so fucking full of yourself.”
Those pouty berry red lips had a naughty side. It didn’t surprise me at all to hear the bad word come out of them, but the reaction to do something about it made my dick stiffen even more.
“It’s not safe in the big city.” I slid my fingers up her soft skin. Blood raced through her veins, making her pulse beat wildly. My breath hitched to feel it.
Her opposite hand clamped down on my wrist. “It will be a cold day in hell when I can’t take care of myself.”
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind she couldn’t do just that. With a sigh of resignation, I let her go. She dropped her hands to her side.
The smile she gave me was full of vitriol. “Thanks again for the coke…Nic.”
Her tongue popped the final consonant.
I stifled a groan. The urge to get laid had been dormant, suppressed by the overwhelming demands of living abroad. But it had been far too long since I’d taken care of that judging by the strong rush to grab this woman, pin her down, and show her why we would be magnetic together.
Instead, I had to watch her tight ass sway as she made her way to the door and exited without looking back.
But she was here, somewhere in my city. I rubbed my chin, considering how exactly I would track her down.
It was probably stalker level to follow her to the bus and see which one she took. But that was as good a lead as any.
I flicked a glance at my watch to mark the time and give her a head start, only to jerk back with a start. My Panerai, the luxury watch my grandparents had sent me last Christmas, was gone.
I stared at the door, mentally forcing my jaw not to drop. The little huntress had taken the kill, and I couldn’t even be mad at her.
“I will find you,” I promised, rubbing the bare spot. “It’s on, little huntress.”