She blinked. “What?”
“Huh.” He leaned away, his gaze narrowing. “So not them. That leaves the professor…”
Retrenching after his bait and switch with the target, she grabbed her phone when it rang. Hating phones and finding the interruption a welcome reprieve, she frowned at the number on the screen. Not her team. When the hell had she given the professor her cell information?
Touching a finger to her lips, she asked for and received immediate silence. Hitting answer, she put the phone to her ear. “Hello.”
“Hello, gorgeous. I’m a little disappointed you met someone else for coffee.”
Surprise jerked through her, and it took all of her training to stay planted in the chair. She swept a look around the coffee shop, then the parking lot, and the part of the lake trail she could see from her perch without turning her head. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
Masculine laughter rich with humor drifted over the phone. Her pussy went damp, and her abdominals clenched. “Damn, Copper. If I was so bad you’ve forgotten me in a couple of hours, why don’t you make our lunch date a dinner one instead, so I can do better?”
Amused in spite of herself, she took a sip of her coffee to keep from smiling. “I’m a big believer in first impressions counting.” And he had made a hell of a first impression.
Currently, her body was very interested in seconds.
“Funny, I agree with you. Have dinner with me.”
“No.” She took another drink.
“Fine, I’ll have dinner with you.” Easy charm rolled in those syllables, and she actually had to bite the inside of her lip to not laugh.
“Still a no,” she managed. Across the table, Merc had gone predator silent, and his stare drilled into her. No way should she be having this conversation in front of him.
“Dessert?”
The woman who’d played with Gabriel in the lecture hall would have chuckled. Copper refused. “Do you have an issue with the word no?”
“Only when it conflicts with my being able to see you again.” Gabriel sighed. “Tell you what—I’m at the coffee shop on Grand. It’s next to the university. Afterward, I’m going home to take a shower, then having dinner at Andrew’s. It’s a steakhouse at Fifth and Prospect. I’ll be there by seven.”
“Sounds like you have a busy day planned.”
“You’re a cruel and unusual woman,” he said, his voice pitching lower.
Time to change the subject. “How did you get my number?”
“Come to dinner. Hell, just show up, and I’ll make sure you come.” The provocative promise twisted her insides into a knot of tension and lust.Dammit.“See you tonight.”
He ended the call before she could turn him down again. Staring at the phone, she frowned. She still stared at it when it vibrated with a text message. The restaurant address, and beneath that, a pin code followed by the note:In case you want to verify the phone information you acquired.
The code was a key, a decryption key. Setting the phone down, she blew out a slow, thoughtful breath.
“How much trouble are you in?” Merc’s quiet question echoed the one ringing alarm bells in her mind.
The problem was, “I don’t know.”
All the wayto the parking lot of Andrew’s Steakhouse, Copper said she wasn’t going inside. Standing at the edge of the lot near the trees, she eyed the door. The decryption key unlocked a lot of the information on the professor’s phone—names, contacts, phone numbers, and his calendar. Not his email, though she had his log in. The fifth and final decryption program continued to work on the info, and she’d told the guys she was turning in for the night.
Lied to them. Lied to Merc.
Well, the lie was true from a certain point of view.She hadn’t come to the restaurant for the mission. No, she’d shown up to sort out the conflicted response she’d developed for the target.
Located in a lodge-style building, the restaurant had a lot of windows—plenty of opportunities for her to sight her target without going inside. Binoculars in hand, however, she considered the building and whether she should get back in the car and go.
“Since when did you become a chicken?”Gunnery Sergeant Bradley Peck murmured in her ear.
“I’m not in the habit of trading sex for information,” she snapped. A half-lie at best. She’d done it before, when they’d needed the info, and she’d do it again. If fucking the right guy saved a life and prevented her team from walking into a trap…