“That’s pretty,” M said, lifting her chin toward the next item up for auction—a ruby ring.
“You like jewelry?” He gave her a sideways glance. “Didn’t take you for the glitzy type.”
“I’m not.” She dumped her trash in a nearby bin then crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall beside him. “I just said it was pretty. That’s all.”
“So are you,” Loki said, before he could stop himself. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him? He never mixed business and pleasure and he wasn’t about to start. Nor did he act like a randy schoolboy around beautiful women. He was always the suave, debonair, Cary Grant type. Quick with a snarky comment or brilliant insight, never letting them see the vulnerable man underneath. Now, here he was with M, who according to his reports might quite possibly be one of the most dangerous women in the world, and he was practically tripping over himself with lust for her. He tossed his own trash away then took a moment to get his shit back together again. “I mean, I prefer this look to the punk one from the other night. More stylish and less shabby.”
Her full lips tightened slightly at his backhanded compliment and regret jabbed the soft spots between his ribs. God. What was it about this woman that turned him into a jabbering idiot? He’d be lucky if she didn’t knee him in the balls before the night was over. Lord knows he’d do the same in her position.
“You just can’t help being an ass, can you?” Her brittle tone confirmed her hurt. “I was trying to be nice to you because we have to work together here. But forget it.” She looked him over from head to toe. “Your pants are too short, your tux jacket needs to be let out about a quarter inch in the shoulders to fit properly, and you have a glob of teriyaki sauce on your shirt.”
“Fuck.” Loki scowled down at himself then grabbed a clean napkin and a bottle of seltzer water from the buffet table. Apparently, he’d been so ravenous with dinner he’d not noticed spilling half of it down his front. Smooth move, dumbass. Moving back into his spot beside M, he poured some water onto the napkin then tried to get the spot out of his shirt. All he managed to do was smear it around more.
She didn’t seem to notice his botched efforts, just stared straight ahead at the auction. They’d moved on to a stunning set of sapphire and diamond earrings that Loki estimated to be worth at least a quarter of a million dollars. Not too shabby.
Finally, M sighed and reached over to take the napkin and bottled water from his hands. “You really are hopeless aren’t you? Let me do this so we can get on with things.”
Loki stood still as she dabbed the front of his shirt with the damp linen napkin. Her touch was light and warm through the wet fabric, causing goose bumps of pleasure through his abdomen and lower still. Her quiet murmurs of “oh” and “mmm” didn’t help either. All he could picture were those deft fingers tracing over his flesh, stroking him, heading lower…
“You’re ripped,” she said, her fingers tracing the ridges of his taut abdomen as she continued to rub the wet napkin against his skin. Her eyes met his and heat flared in their aqua blue depths. A slow smile blossomed on her garnet red lips, wicked with erotic promise. “I don’t usually get so involved with men while I’m working, but with you it seems a shame not to take advantage of all this…” She pressed lightly against him and there was no way he could hide his growing arousal from her. “Yeah, it would be good between us. So, so good…”
He bit back a moan and did his best to concentrate elsewhere. He would not embarrass himself here tonight. Not in front of their mark and his backer and all these important guests. Fortunately, he found a good distraction. “Martin’s here.”
“Where?” M straightened, her body shielding his stained shirt—and his rapidly hardening cock—from the rest of the room.
“Over there, by the entrance. I think he just arrived,” Loki said, his tone strained. If M didn’t back up soon, he wasn’t going to be liable for his actions. Meaning he’d have her pressed up against this ballroom wall, kissing her and caressing her until neither one of them cared about Martin or this mission or anything else but each other and this electric connection between them. Thankfully, she did move and so did he, turning slightly to rearrange his clothing and button his tux jacket. The stain was gone, thank God, and the jacket was long enough to hide most of the straining bulge pressed tight to his fly. Dammit all to hell and back.
By the time he had himself reasonably under control again, the jewelry portion of the auction was over and they were moving on to the highlight of the evening.
“Ladies and gentlemen, up next we have a special treat for you. Pop star Todd Martin is here and he’s generously offered to sing one song tonight for the highest bidder, their choice. Now who here would love to be serenaded by one of the hottest celebrities in music today?”
An excited rush of shouts went up from the crowd, men and women alike, all cheering for Martin. Loki had never really been a fan of the guy. He preferred jazz or classical over the bubblegum sweet lyrics and oversimplified tunes popular on the radio.
“Why don’t you come on up here now, Mr. Martin, and we’ll get this party started.” The MC waved to Martin, who cut a swath through the crowds up to the stage.
Loki leaned over to whisper to M that they should each guard a different side of the stage to make sure Todd Martin didn’t get away after his performance, but found only empty space around him. A quick glance forward showed a glimmer of red lace weaving through the guests toward the stage where Martin now stood.
“Fuck.” So much for coordinated efforts and working as a team. Loki took off after her.
By the time he made it to the dance floor area before the stage, the bidding for Martin’s
prize was up to half a million dollars. Ridiculous, even for charity. Loki spotted M a few feet down and sidled over to her.
“Five hundred thousand going once, going twice. Sold!” The MC smacked his gavel on the podium and the guests erupted in cheers and applause. The winning bidder, a woman in her thirties, was helped up on stage by her husband—a guy in his forties who looked about as thrilled with having Martin croon to him as Loki felt. Still, the man graciously shook hands with Martin and wrote out his check to the auctioneer, then his wife picked their song. A slow ballad originally made famous by people like Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett.
As the opening strains of The Way You Look Tonight filled the air and Martin began singing, the winning couple started dancing a slow waltz shuffle on stage. They invited the crowd to join in and Loki seized his moment. If new intel was going to be leaked tonight by Martin, it would most likely happen during his performance. How? Loki wasn’t quite sure, but there’d be no better cover than Martin on stage while hundreds of people swayed on a dance floor before him, distracted by love and other nonsense.
Surprisingly, M didn’t protest as he led her over to a spot near the stage then pulled her into his arms. They moved to the rhythm of the music, bodies brushing lightly.
“You think he’ll go for it during this performance, don’t you?” M asked, her gaze locked on Martin.
“I do.” Loki also kept an eye on the surrounding couples and the stagehands lingering just beyond the dance floor. “Not sure how yet.”
“There,” M said, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to take over the lead. She turned them slightly and tilted her head toward where the band sat playing. “I’ll bet it’s one of them, or their crew. He’ll try and pass it off at the end, when he shakes hands with them.”
Loki, resuming control of the dance, spun M out in a turn then pulled her back into his arms, tighter this time, with her back to his front. He lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Not bad, darling. Not bad. But I’m going with the stagehands.” The feel of her curves fitting him and rubbing against him in all the right spots nearly had him out of his mind with need. Still, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand, loving the game too much to quit now. “See that one there, in the corner. He looks shifty. I’d guess Martin will pass him the intel as he walks off the stage at the end.”
M rotated her hips against him, her soft warm butt sliding against his ever-hardening cock. Her breath caught and she bit her lip, color flushing her cheeks as she smiled again. “Very nice. Very nice indeed,” she said, her voice breathy. “But I need more.”