Cynthia Eden - Glitter and Gunfire

Her scent, light, sweet, seemed to fill the air around them. “Sorry, ma’am,” he drawled, letting his Texas accent slip out deliberately. He’d long ago learned how to ditch and retrieve that accent at will. “But I think you have me confused with someone else.”

Cassidy shook her head. “No, I think it would be very hard to confuse a man like you with anyone else.” Her smile was still in place, but a brittle edge had entered her voice. Then, surprising him, she stepped forward. Her arms came up, as if she were hugging him, and he responded instinctively, wrapping his own arms around her.

Cassidy’s body was slender and warm against his. Because of her high heels and the fact that Cassidy’s own height skirted just above five foot eleven, their mouths were close. Temptingly close.

But she didn’t kiss him. She pushed up onto her toes. Her mouth slipped toward his left ear, and she whispered, “Stop tailing me before you ruin everything.”

He stiffened at her words and at the sudden hard jolt of arousal that knifed through him. Her breath blew lightly against his ear. His fingers tightened around her waist. To onlookers, Cale knew it would appear that they were embracing but, holding her this tightly, he felt the hard tension in Cassidy’s body.

Cassidy Sherridan was furious with him.

“I don’t care who sent you.” She whispered the words. He felt her lips press lightly against his ear. His body hardened. Then she said, “The last thing I need is an EOD agent in my way.”

An EOD agent. She did realize who—what—he was, and that was some very surprising news, mostly because there were only a few people in the world with enough clearance to know about the Elite Operations Division. According to the U.S. government, the EOD didn’t exist.

Not officially, anyway.

The Elite Operations Division operated far below the radar. The EOD agents had all been hand selected by Bruce Mercer, the man who seemed to be the EOD. The agents went out on the most deadly missions. They took the cases that others—in the official U.S. agencies—couldn’t handle. Their very success and survival depended on the EOD’s secrecy.

But this woman, who went to a series of parties, night after night, barely sliding into her hotel room past dawn, this woman with a dozen admirers always close to her, this woman who seemed to burn through ridiculous amounts of money in mere moments... She knew about the EOD?

So much for secrecy.

Her fingers pressed against his shoulders as Cassidy leaned back to study him once more. “I didn’t catch your name.”

Because he hadn’t given it to her.

“But maybe that’s for the best,” she added with a little nod. “Since this is the end of our acquaintance.”

No, it wasn’t even close to the end.

“When I walk away in a moment, I expect you to do the same,” Cassidy told him.

The woman was giving him orders? Almost cute.

“Head to the back door. It’s ten feet on your right. Go down the stairs there. That’s the entrance and exit used by the staff at this event. None of the guests will notice when you leave.”

Ah, yes, she was giving him an order. And it wasn’t as cute anymore.

“I don’t want to see you again.” She was smiling as she said it, but her eyes had hardened. “Don’t get in my way.”

Then she turned and walked away.

Interesting.

His gaze slid over the slender column of her back. Far too much skin—such golden, perfect skin—was revealed by the plunging back of her gown.

She didn’t look at him. Just headed over to a pretty redhead, and the two women immediately started talking, their voices seemingly happy and light.

Cale realized that Cassidy Sherridan had just dismissed him.

He wasn’t the type of man to be dismissed.

When he had a mission, he executed that mission. An angry debutante wasn’t about to get in his way.

Cale glanced toward the exit she’d indicated, then right back to her.

With a faint smile curving his lips, he started to stalk his prey.

* * *

VOICES ROSE AND FELL around her, and Cassidy tried hard to focus through the rumble—and to ignore the wild pounding of her heart.

He’s gone. You’re in control. You have this—

“Um...Cassidy?” Her friend Genevieve Chevalier’s voice had dropped, so Cassidy had to lean closer to hear her words in the crush of people. “Who is that delectable man coming after you?” A light French accent brushed her words.

Cassidy blinked at her. Wait, had Genevieve just said...coming after...?

Cassidy locked her back teeth even as she gave a smile, the same fake smile that she’d grown used to offering people in the past year. “I’m sure I don’t know who you’re talking about.” She laughed lightly. “But then, this room is full of delectable men.”

Not that she paid those men much notice. Ever since she’d arrived at the charity ball, she’d been totally focused on him.

She glanced over her shoulder, following Genevieve’s gaze. The man in question should have been heading toward the exit. The stranger—the guy with the dark blue eyes, the hard jaw, the face that she found both dangerous and sexy—was striding toward her.

He was tall, around six foot three, with wide shoulders. She’d first noticed him three days ago—mostly because it was hard to ignore a man like him. Especially with that dark intensity that seemed to pulsate off him.

The day she’d noticed him for the first time, they’d been at another party, another glittering ballroom, one decked out in the familiar gold-and-purple colors of Carnival. He’d been leaning against the back wall there, too, watching her.

But not with lust in his eyes, the way others sometimes did.

Instead, cold calculation had filled his stare.

“He seems very taken with you,” Genevieve murmured.

With an effort, she kept her smile in place. He should have taken himself out of there. Like she couldn’t spot an EOD agent a mile away.

Deliberately, she looked away from him, making a point of giving the man her back. Take a hint. The band started to play again, a slow, romantic tune, and some of the chatter quieted just as—

A hand closed over her shoulder. Warm, strong, his. Every muscle in Cassidy’s body tightened in response to that touch.

“I want this dance.” His words were rough, a demand, certainly not the suave invitation that most of the men at this event would have offered her.

But, then, he wasn’t most men.

Genevieve stood watching them, her golden eyes wide.

Cassidy realized the stranger hadn’t given her much choice. She could refuse, then Genevieve—glorious gossip that she was—would want to know why. The point had been to make the mysterious man vanish, not to pull him into her life even more.

He’d obviously missed the point.

“One dance,” she agreed softly, inclining her head in what she hoped appeared to be a gracious move.

She’d be sure he got the point this time.

Cassidy turned toward him, tried to brace herself against the impact of staring right into those blue eyes of his. But there was no bracing that would be good enough. Each time she looked into his eyes, her heart beat faster even as sensual awareness spiked through her.

Handsome, he definitely was. With those strong cheeks, that long blade of a nose and that chiseled jaw, the man certainly would catch the attention of most women. He even had a cleft in his chin, a cleft that softened the roughened edge of his features and made him even more appealing.

His hand closed around hers as he led her onto the dance floor. Cassidy noticed that there were calluses on his fingers, and he was just so...warm.

She swallowed and held her faint smile in place as they began to dance. She tried to keep some precious distance between them but—