Outtake: Overture
“Mind if I sit here?”
At the smooth tones, Detective Sergeant Cynarra Malva looked up for her book. A beautiful Hispanic male stood by her table, waiting expectantly as he carried a tray of food. She looked around at the surrounding tables, noting several standing empty, then shrugged inwardly. The book wasn’t holding her attention, so she was open to a distraction. Might as well listen to the guy. She just hoped he had a good line, if he was going to try to pick her up. “Be my guest.”
“Thanks.” He gave her an engaging smile that heightened his good looks. No fair! Gorgeous face, great body, bedroom voice and a smile to die for? Some days it felt like the gods stacked the cards.
Taking a bite of her custard pie, she pretended to resume reading her book. No reason to make things easy for him. She had to admit that even through her excellent peripheral vision, he was easy on the eyes. No obvious bulges indicating hidden weapons, lethal or otherwise, though she was withholding judgment of his other equipment since she hadn’t quite eyeballed his crotch. Neat table manners, too. No snarfing his food, unlike some of her fellow cops.
He was studying her openly over his coffee, biding his time. When she met his melt-in-your-mouth chocolate brown eyes, he returned her gaze unabashedly. “Do you dance?”
Cyn banished memories of the ballroom dancing lessons her mother had inflicted on her during her teens in an effort to get her Amazon of a daughter to quit joining in her brothers’ roughhousing. Her lips quirked. If good coordination hadn’t been necessary for magic, she’d probably given up on the lessons. But even back then, she’d intended to become a mage. “Depends on what you call dancing.”
He leaned toward her confidingly, resting his elbows on the table. His long lashes veiled his eyes as he made a covert check of the vicinity, possibly for eavesdroppers. “See, I’m providing backup and I need a partner.”
She stared at him in surprise. He didn’t look or act like a cop. She would have noticed! In fact, she had come to this snack bar to get some time away from work.
If she was hoping for a distraction, this certainly counted.
Cyn lifted her brows encouragingly. She still wasn’t certain this wasn’t a pickup, but it was original.
“A friend’s received some threats but we’re not sure who’s sending them. We’re hoping to draw them out. My friend’s taking his lady to this dance club and I’m supposed to be backup. It would be easier if I had a date who knew what I was doing, instead of just showing up and fending off women.”
“Really?”
He nodded, an earnest bob of the head that gave him an ingenuous air. “I don’t know anyone locally, at least not any women I can call on, and figured”—he snapped his fingers—“a cop should do the trick.”
Cyn snickered. “Does this usually work on other women?”
He stared at her wide-eyed, his long lashes highlighting his apparent nonplus. “I’m serious.”
“And when do you need this date?” she asked, humoring him.
“Tonight.” His face hardened imperceptibly, making her smile fade. “Can you make it?”
He looked serious.
What the heck, Cyn decided recklessly. She would be off-duty. At least she wouldn’t be bored. “I’ll meet you there.” Just because she was feeling wild didn’t mean she had lost all common sense.
Tall-Dark-and-Scrumptious grinned. If smiling made him more gorgeous, his grin was lethal. “Fantastic. I’ll owe you.”
She touched his hand. “Hold on a sec. If we’re supposed to be dating, shouldn’t I know your name?”
He turned his hand up from under hers, captured her fingers gently and lifted them to his mouth in one smooth motion. “Rio Rafael.” He brushed soft lips over her knuckles. “And you’re Cynarra Malva.”
A frisson of arousal streaked up her spine at his purring delivery of her name. Gods, he was good!
