Gabriel Black leaned back against the rich teak of the bar
and smiled with satisfaction. At his elbow was a glass of
the finest aged Scotch. His suit was Armani, his shoes were
Fer-ragamo and his shirt was silk. In his pocket was the key
to millions in internet stocks. Not bad for a Thursday night.
A natural born gambler, he had a talent for winning. And he
had a feeling that tonight's win was gonna be a big one.
"Buy me a drink?"
He glanced over and offered the pouty redhead with a set of
dangerous curves a long look. With a flick of his finger, he
motioned to the bartender to bring her whatever she wanted.
As Moe placed a flute of champagne next to her, Gabriel
offered a charming smile and tilted his head toward the men
who'd just walked in the door.
"I've got a few things to take care of," he told the
redhead. With one eye still on the mark, he leaned over and
ran the back of his index finger along the shoulder left
bare by her strapless glittery dress. "Enjoy your champagne,
keep my seat warm and when I'm finished we'll take the rest
of that bottle back to my room."
"I'll look forward to that," she purred, touching the tip of
her tongue to the crystal flute before sliding onto the
velvet covered barstool.
For just one second, Gabriel was distracted. He leaned over
and took the glass from her, twisted it to drink from the
same place her lips had been, marked by a crimson smear of
lipstick. The champagne exploded on his tongue. Just like he
figured the sex would later.
"Tasty," he murmured, handing back the glass.
With a quick wink, he turned away and scanned the room.
Instantly, his gaze found his mark and his partner settling
into a booth in the corner.
Just like that, the redhead was as good as gone in his mind.
One of Gabriel's strengths was his ability to ignore
anything that stood between him and his goal. And as much as
he adored women, they had their place. In his bed, against
the wall, rising over his nude body. Those were all good
places. But no woman had ever entered his mind when he was
on a job.
After all, the job was everything.
A little something he'd learned from his old man. But as
amazing as Tobias Black was, he had never quite managed to
master that one particular rule. Gabriel's father was king
of the con, but he'd never let go of emotional ties. That'd
been his downfall, and the reason he was now out of the game.
Gabriel admired his old man's skills. But he was better.
But he'd wait to gloat until later. After he'd relieved
these gentleman of a cool mil.
He knew the affable smile on his face didn't detract from
the air of danger he wore like a second skin. But, whether
it was in a professional poker game or while pulling a con,
the elegant suit and five-hundred-dollar haircut fooled
people long enough for him to get the job done.
"Gentlemen," he greeted when he reached their booth. With a
nod to each man, he pulled up a chair.
"Mr. Lane," the first man greeted, using Gabriel's false
identity. Hair slicked back from an unfortunate face, he was
the kind of guy you just knew had been picked on all through
high school. The dateless kind who'd focused all that
teenage sexual frustration on studying so he could make the
kind of money that bought plenty of admiration.
"We're glad you agreed to meet us," the second guy said.
This one was more wary. The accountant, he was here to make
sure his friend didn't get hosed.
Good. Anything that came too easily was boring. Gabriel
believed in working for his money. And he hated to be bored.
"I appreciate you agreeing to meet here," Gabriel said,
nodding his head to the hotel's private bar. "I've been
called away on a sudden trip to Europe. If we couldn't do
this tonight, it would...
