had arrived early so he could get a feel for the place. He’d never been in here before, although he’d heard many stories of the place.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. The whole place stank of simmering violence and pathetic lies. He’d bet half the men in the room were felons, and the women didn’t look much better. His attention was captured by one particular woman across the room.
She was a burst of flash and color in a room of blacks and grays. Her teased hair was the color of a shiny new penny and her gold sparkly midriff blouse clung to pert, rounded breasts and exposed a flat, well-toned abdomen.
Her short black skirt barely covered her other assets, and cupped her well-shaped bottom. If she bent over too far, there would be no mysteries left, Adam thought. But, he couldn’t help but admire the sexy length of legs that disappeared into a pair of red spike high heels.
Obviously a working girl, he thought as he watched her chatting up a man who looked half drunk but managed to leer at her through bleary eyes.
Adam couldn’t fault the man for leering. Although Adam couldn’t discern the woman’s facial features in the dimness of the room, if her face matched her shape, she was definitely one hot-looking ticket.
Watching the woman, Adam felt a surge of blood sweep through him and realized it had been some time since he’d been with a woman. Since his father’s disappearance a little over a year before, Adam’s life had been consumed with trying to clear his father’s name…his own name. There had been no time and, truthfully, no inclination for romance.
Adam looked at his watch, then toward the front door. Just a few minutes after ten. Where in the hell was Isabel? They’d agreed to meet here at 10:00 p.m.
As soon as she walked in the door, he was going to grab her by the arm and steer her out of here. This was certainly no place for a princess. There had to be some other way to get the information Isabel sought.
He looked back at the woman across the room. Like a magnet, she drew him. As if she felt his gaze on her, she looked over to him. She grabbed the hand of the drunk standing next to her and began pulling him toward Adam.
Adam frowned, wondering if he’d committed some sort of faux pas merely by looking at the woman. Maybe the drunk was her pimp and they’d mistaken him for an interested john. He stood, unsure what to expect.
She drew close enough for him to see her features and he found himself admiring the full lips carefully colored with ruby-red lipstick, the high cheekbones pinkened with a blush of color and green eyes that suddenly caused shock to rivet through him.
He knew those green eyes. They weren’t the eyes of a hooker…they were the eyes of a princess. It was Isabel.
Before he had time to assess the situation, before his shock had completely worn off, she launched herself into him, pressing her warm lithe body intimately against his.
“I was just telling Willie here about my handsome hunk of a husband, then I look across the room and there you are,” she said, her head tilted back to look at him. “Now, kiss me, sweetheart, and show Willie just how glad you really are to see me.”
Her eyes beseeched him to play the game and with his head still reeling from shock, with her body warm and soft against his and her perfume dizzying his senses, Adam could do nothing but comply.
Someplace in the back of his mind, as his mouth descended to hers, he knew this was a major mistake. She hadn’t said anything about kissing her when she’d told him they were going undercover.
But, even knowing it was a mistake, Adam couldn’t stop the maelstrom of excitement that coursed through him as he realized he was about to do what he’d dreamed of doing for years. He was going to kiss Princess Isabel Stanbury.
He’d intended the kiss to be a mere brushing of lips, a perfunctory touch of mouths. But, the moment his lips met hers, desire roared through him.
With the press of her breasts against his chest, and his fingers touching the silky warm bare skin of her lower back, Adam lost himself in the kiss.
Her mouth was hot and opened eagerly to him as her arms wound tight around his neck. She tasted sweeter, hotter than in any of his fantasies, and his senses reeled with the reality of her in his arms.
After what seemed like a sweet eternity and a disappointing nanosecond at the same time, she broke the kiss. She took a step back from him, her cheeks flushed a heated pink and her green eyes widened in shock.
“I’d say the man is definitely glad to see you,” Willie snickered.
The man’s words seemed to break the stunned spell that had momentarily gripped Isabel. “Adam, darling, this is Willie Tammerick. He was a friend of my cousin Shane. Willie, this is my husband, Adam Wilcox.”
Adam nodded, disliking the way Willie’s gaze slid over Isabel, as if she were a delectable treat that he couldn’t wait to taste. He noticed other men in the bar looking at her in the same way.
He wanted to wrap his arms around her, find a coat and throw it over her, do whatever he could to hide the luscious curves she had on display. What was she thinking when she picked those revealing clothes? And what on earth had she done to her hair?
His blood boiled and he wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been utterly shameless and irresponsible in choosing her clothes, or if it was a residual effect of the kiss they’d just shared.
Despite his reluctance, he draped a hand over Isabel’s shoulder, keeping her close to his side and establishing a proprietorship to her for every other man in the bar.
“So, you were a friend of Shane’s?” Adam asked, once again directing his attention to Willie Tammerick.
The man was a skinny weasel of a man, with eyes set slightly too close together, a long pointed nose and a scraggly gray beard that cried out for the touch of a sharp razor.
“Sure, Shane and me…we were like this.” He held up two fingers twined together and stumbled slightly as if in raising his arm he’d thrown off his balance. “Poor Shane, shot to death by them royal guards like he was nothing but a damn dog.”
Somehow Adam doubted that a man as smart as Shane Moore would have been close friends with Willie, who appeared to be nothing more than a loose-mouthed drunk.
“I guess Shane got into something over his head,” Isabel said.
Willie grinned at her, a loopy smile that displayed a broken front tooth. “Now he’s in way over his head…six feet under, he is.” His smile fell away as he realized his morbid joke wasn’t appreciated. “There’s lots of us here that are going to miss old Shane. He was always good for buying a round or two.”
He looked at Adam expectantly, obviously hoping Adam might spring for a round of drinks. Instead Adam focused his attention on a tall, burly man with tattoos decorating tree-trunk sized arms who was intently focused on Isabel.
Hunger. It radiated from the man’s eyes and Adam found himself looking at Isabel not as a subordinate who had once served a tour of duty beneath him, not as a princess whom he was sworn to protect, but as a woman.
A woman with a killer body and a full, slightly pouty mouth that could muddy a man’s thoughts. A woman who could cause a bar fight just by fluttering her blackened
