Page 24 of Spitfire

I close and lock my door before bringing the heavy arrangement back to my counter and staring at it. White lilies? Who the hell would send me these? Don't they know that's traditionally a funeral flower? Jasper? Somehow I can't see Jasper sending me flowers, and besides, he just left. When would he have had the time?

A white card, with my name scrolled along the surface, catches my attention, and I pull it out. I hesitate to open it. For some reason, a sense of foreboding fills me. "Get your shit together, Scarlett. It's just a card and flowers. It's not going to fucking bite you."

I open the card and notice my hands are trembling, and that makes me irrationally angry. A moment of weakness will lead to two. I need to stop how I'm reacting to the world around me, before I'm down on the ground in the fetal position, and no longer able to cope. Besides, fear never stopped anything bad from happening to me. The card falls to the counter, and I quickly lean over to read it. The script is masculine and neat.

Agent Lyssa,

My sincerest apologies for my earlier conduct. I shouldn't have targeted you or your partner. I allowed my frustration to overrule my professionalism. We all just want to catch this guy and stop the killings.

I have some information that might be useful to your investigation. I know I don't deserve it, but please meet me for dinner. I promise to be on my best behavior.

Xavier Poine

My first reaction is to rip up the card and throw the flowers straight into the trash, but I hesitate, reading over his message once more, and noting the restaurant's location, and the time he's jotted down at the bottom. What if he does have something that could lead me to Ashmaker or his accomplice, and the bastard is holding it back, hoping to get a scoop? Can I risk that?

There's zero chance he sent a similar note and flowers to Jasper. The dangling carrot of information is just a ruse. No, Xavier has gone for who he thinks the weaker of the two of us is. He thinks he'll be able to use his good looks and charm to get me to slip up, and give him something juicy about Ashmaker because I'm a woman.

"I won't be played like a fool, not by you, Xavier, or anyone else," I whisper to the silent room. I crumple the note in my fist and drop it back on the marble counter, trying not to let the insult take over all my emotions. I need to stay in control, and can't risk another episode like the one that happened back at the office. I quickly glance at my watch and realize that if I'm going to make it, I don't have much time to get ready before I have to leave. A smile crosses my face as I consider turning Xavier Poine's plan against him. Two can play at this game. He thinks he'll seduce me into ruining my career, but let's see how he likes the same methods used against him.

I'm not naive or oblivious. I know that the opposite sex finds me attractive, and in the past I've used that to my advantage. It's a tool, one of the meager ones I was given that I didn't have to earn through sweat, tears, and blood. I move into my closet and stare at my mostly business attire. It's not like I have the time or inclination to go on many dates, so my wardrobe is a tad limited in the seduction department. More like there seems to be just one man you're interested in bedding.

An image of Jasper's expression, before he slammed his lips to mine in his vehicle, tries to derail my thoughts, but I shut it down. My fingers skim over a red knee-length dress I bought on impulse last year, with a tight-fitting silhouette, a decent scooped neckline that exposes my cleavage, and strategic cut-outs at the waist that reveal my pale flesh. I'm not sure even now why I bought it. It just seemed too pretty to leave in the store, and the vibrant red color called to me.

I drape it on my bed and pull a pair of my black skyscraper heels out, going over the outfit in my mind, with a critical eye on whether it will be distracting enough, and give me an edge against Xavier Poine. Yes, that should do nicely. Xavier Poine wants to play games with me, but he should have remembered: you play stupid games and win stupid prizes. In his case, he'll be lucky if I allow him to escape with just his career in tatters. Something tells me Jasper won't be so kind after the shit he pulled at the crime scene. The thought of the two men throwing punches at each other has my core clenching tightly. Fuck, that would be a sight. Maybe one day I might even get to witness it.

I rush to get ready, suddenly excited for our meeting, and already planning to order the most expensive shit on the menu to eat and drink, and then not touching any of it.

Fuck you, Xavier, you've chosen to play with the wrong woman.

EIGHTEEN

XAVIER

She's not coming, you bloody fool. Why would she?

The doubt gnaws at me, sharpening my frustration, as I sit here waiting in vain. "She'll be here. I just have to wait a little longer," I mumble to myself, as the waiter passes me by once again and gives me an annoyed glance, as I refuse to order until she arrives. She's already more than twenty minutes late, so maybe she didn't get my flowers and card? I pull out my phone and once more confirm that it's her shocked features from the nose down, in the delivery receipt the florist sent me.

You're so pathetic. Just look at you sitting here, discarded, waiting for even a small morsel of attention from her.

I ignore his snide comments and signal for the waiter to bring me another gin on the rocks. If she doesn't show up, I might have to get drunk off my ass just to drown his incessant crowing.

Suddenly, all the hair at the back of my neck prickles and stands on end. I turn slowly in my seat towards the restaurant's entrance, and holy shit, there she is, and fuck me, she looks breathtaking. She's wearing a sexy red dress, that not only accentuates her curves, but makes her pale skin glow. Her gaze narrows in my direction before she takes steps toward my table, and I can feel every man's, and even some women's, eyes glued to her. Instead of causing me jealousy, it fills me with pride that she's here for me.

I rise from my seat, my eyes slowly roaming over her from her black-heeled feet to the top of her brown-tressed head. She's allowed her hair to remain down, instead of the ponytails and buns she usually wears, and the dark waves cascade down her back in a shimmering mass. My glance rises to her face, and I almost swallow my tongue when I notice she's painted her lips to match her dress, and made her eyes all smoky.

"Good evening, Scarlett. Thank you for joining me." My voice comes out as a deep rumble to match the pounding of my heart. I have to clench my hands to keep them at my sides instead of reaching for her. She's pure temptation. A vixen right out of my dreams, and tonight it seems she's all mine.

"Thank you for the flowers and the invitation." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. I pull out her chair, and she elegantly sits, crossing her sexy legs, and the hem of the dress rises to reveal a deep slit on the side that exposes her thigh. I stifle my groan, and discreetly adjust myself behind her before regaining my seat, catching the man at the next table winking at me in approval. She's fucking mine! I want to yell, grab the steak knife on the table, and slam it into his eye, but instead I sit across from Scarlett and try to control my reaction to her proximity.

"I... ah... I am genuinely sorry about earlier today. It was messy and unnecessary on my part. I know you're doing your best to catch Ashmaker." Her eyes narrow before she paints a fake, pleasant expression on her face, and I want to instantly demand she knock it off and call me out on my shit.

She licks her lips, and the action instantly has me enthralled. I'm leaning towards her across the table, and reaching for her face as if to touch it, before I even realize what I'm doing.

A loud braying laugh sounds in my head, and it has me coming to a sudden halt mid-motion as she stares at me with both concern, and what I think might be intrigue. I quickly place my hand down on the table, and feign that I was just reaching for the menu to place it in front of her. She clears her throat and stares at the menu, as if it might jump from the table and bite her. "You were doing your job. I understand the pressures of one's career, and the need to get ahead."

It's my turn to stare at her with suspicion. Why is she being so gracious? She should be telling me I'm a prick and letting me have it, but instead she's quiet and reserved.

Oh my, she's playing with you. Either that or she's dumb as shit.