Code Name: Red Rock (7 page)

That thought evaporated when she caught a glimpse of the brown-skinned man across the room. Damn, who was
he
? Gorgeous didn’t begin to describe him. His light brown skin and sharp strong features spoke to a mix of heritages. Latino? Maybe African-American with some Asian thrown in? His high cheekbones and chiseled jaw indicated there might be Indian blood in the mix. His eyes were an aberration. A piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit. How the hell could a warm-skinned Adonis have cobalt blue eyes that gleamed from ten feet away?

His lazy stance didn’t hide his commanding presence. He had ex-military stamped all over him. Jesse stopped taking inventory when she caught his gaze. He was studying her through narrowed eyes. She groaned and quickly looked away. Damn, another bad boy. She attracted them like ticks on a hunting dog. His quirky grin said he knew what she looked like without her clothes. Of course. Her damnable body. That’s all any of them saw.

Jesse stiffened when she saw him approaching. His casual stride belied the power radiating off of him. Drawing her protective cloak around herself, Jesse assumed an indifferent pose. Her heart thudded so hard in her chest she was sure he would hear it. Refusing to be intimidated, she raised her chin and met him with a glare. It was a look designed to repel the most intrepid would-be suitors. The easy grin on his handsome face confirmed he wasn’t impressed
or
intimidated by her fierce glare.

Dameon had watched a parade of men surreptitiously find an excuse to move in the redhead’s direction. In each case they were met with a stony glare. Visibly shriveling, they slunk away. If any were brazen enough to make it through the first gauntlet, within thirty seconds they also turned tail and ran. Dameon didn’t know what she said to them but whatever it was, it was potent. It stopped eager prowling men in their tracks. Which made her all the more interesting to him. He shrugged. What the hell? Why not throw his hat in the ring? All she could do was stomp on it, and hats were cheap enough.

Ignoring the icy glare she turned on him, he came just close enough to invade her personal space without overtly threatening her. Resisting the urge to touch her, he kept his voice casual, pleasant.

“You’re new here.” It was a statement not a question.

She responded as tersely as he expected.

“Yes, and?”

He smiled. “That was a rhetorical question.”

She merely raised a bored eyebrow and turned away.

Dameon persisted. “We don’t get a lot of newcomers at events like this.”

“I guess I should be honored to have been invited.” Her snippy response was accompanied by a further lift of her chin.

Given that he got more than a two word response, Dameon declared progress and decided to up the ante. Ignoring the brush off, he narrowed his eyes and thoughtfully studied her. The smile lurking in the corner of his mouth was the only give away that he was teasing her,

“Yes, you’re definitely new. No way I would have forgotten you if I’d seen you before.”

To his surprise, she whirled on him, her eyes flashing. It was the first time he was close enough to appreciate the color of her eyes. He had seen stormy oceans that green, that turbulent, but they had never been this bewitchingly beautiful. Facing her full on, he was stunned. She was even lovelier close up. And her fragrance was as enticing as the rest of her. She smelled like lemon and exotic verbena, two of his favorite fragrances.

Her stony glare hardened. “Let me help you. The answer is no.”

“Hmm. And the question?”

“No—to any of the suggestions you were about to make.”

Dameon’s eyes crinkled and he shot her a devastating grin. He kept his response as curt as hers. “I see.”

Obviously determined to get rid of him, she clarified. “I’ve found that a blanket ‘no’ cuts short the conversation. As well as getting rid of all the unwanted suggestions and unwarranted assumptions.”

Holding her gaze, he perused her attentively managing to stifle his grin.

“Hmm. May I presume, miss, that you get a lot of unwanted requests and unwarranted assumptions?”

She tossed her head. “That’s an accurate presumption.”

Dameon couldn’t help but smile at her. She reminded him of Sheba, his Siamese cat, who arched her back whenever he came near. If he startled the feline princess, he was lucky if he got a growl or a hiss instead of a swipe of her paw. But this was the same cat that crawled up and slept at his feet every night. Knowing how unlikely
that
was, Dameon moved a few steps closer to the prickly woman and offered a truce.

“I’ve got a better suggestion. Instead of questions and one word answers, how about we start our conversation like normal people do—by introducing ourselves?”

She gave him a dismissive shrug.

“That’s not necessary. I already know who you are.”

Dameon reared back in surprise. “You do, huh? So in addition to being beautiful you are psychic?” He raked his eyes up and down her bodacious body and winked. “Why am I not surprised?”

She took an additional step back and tossed him a frosty smile.

“Trust me. I know you. You’re the arrogant asshole who sees a redheaded woman with big tits and automatically assumes that she’s a whore. And… you’re wondering how much it will
cost
you to get a look at these.”

A sneer tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Do I have that about right?”

Dameon’s eyes flared. His voice was cool.

“Actually, no. You don’t. But I
do
have a question for you.”

At that moment, a tall, good-looking Latino man came rushing toward them. His dark, almost black eyes flashed with appreciation. He grabbed Jesse’s arm and pulled her close. “My dear, I’ve been looking for you. I’m sorry I was late. Forgive me.”

Dameon retreated, annoyance flooding him. Christ, he should have known. A woman like this? Brazen, beautiful, standoffish? Of course. A woman who looks and acts the way this one does would have to belong to some rich bastard. A man who owns a string of gold-plated Texas oil wells perhaps—or is merely as well-connected to the Mexican mafia as his old buddy Raoul Morales.

Nodding to the strikingly handsome dark-haired man, Dameon greeted him with a cool smile.

“Good evening, Raoul. Nice to see you.”

The Latino’s eyes danced with amusement.

“Likewise, Dameon. I see you’ve met my gorgeous escort, Jesse O’Donnell. I’m not surprised that you discovered her, bro.” Turning to Jesse, he grinned. “So, Jess, you’ve met our handsome and charming police chief?”

Jesse threw Dameon a startled glance then quickly looked down.

Dameon interjected. “No, Raoul. We haven’t met. I was just about to correct an assumption Ms. O’Donnell made.” He captured her gaze and refused to relinquish it. “Your
escort
mistook me for other men she’s known.” Gratified to see Jesse’s cheeks flush, Dameon extended his hand. When she reluctantly offered hers, he grasped it firmly with a slight bow. “Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Dameon Macarios. I’m the police chief of this fair city.”

Raoul wrapped a big arm around Jesse’s shoulders and gave her a mock warning.

“Don’t let all that charm and Hollywood good looks convince you otherwise, Jesse. Dameon is the meanest, toughest son of a bitch you’ll ever meet.”

A smile fought with Dameon’s stern expression. “May I return the compliment, Raoul?”

Hearing a man on the other side of the hallway shouting for him, Raoul huffed an annoyed grunt.

“Jesse, I’m sorry. Please excuse me for a moment. Let me get that emotionally and professionally needy asshole off my back, and then I’ll introduce you to all the makers and shakers in this bustling metropolis of ours. Although, I have to admit, you’ve already met our most famous star, my old buddy Dameon. We call him ‘Wolf.’ “

Raoul leaned over and bussed her cheek. He headed across the room, leaving Jesse slightly pale and shaken in his wake.

Jesse stood still for a moment wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole. They were too far from California to pray for an earthquake and just her luck that tornado season was over. Squashing her embarrassment, she took a deep breath and faced her tormentor.

Just minutes ago, his eyes had been dancing with teasing humor. Now they were cool, hard. She’d seen how he reacted to Raoul. He’d concluded that she was Raoul’s mistress, which would confirm his first impression. Jesse recognized
that
look. She’d been around cops and tough guys all her life. To them there were two kinds of women. Their mothers, who were the kind they themselves married—and whores.

Proving her point, Dameon clasped her arm. His touch was as electric as his startling blue eyes. Being this close affirmed that even in four inch heels, Jesse was dwarfed by Dameon. He loomed over her. It didn’t help that he smelled of expensive cologne and strong man. She flinched and pulled away but his gaze was as powerful as his grip.

Dameon’s voice was low, commanding.

“The question I was going to ask wasn’t how much you cost. Or, whether you would like to sleep with me. Although I’ll admit those are both interesting propositions. No. The question I had is, whether you have a permit, Miss O’Donnell, for that weapon you’re carrying.”

Jesse startled but quickly recovered. Twisting out of his grip, she gave a flippant shrug as she walked away. “Which one?”

Afterword

Thank you for reading
Code Name: Red Rock
, the Prequel to
The Red Rock Series
, my new Sexy Romantic Suspense Series. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much I enjoyed writing it. Jesse has been tugging at my heart strings for months. It was only when the right man appeared that I sat down to write her story. Meet the man who is tough enough to mess with Red Rock! Coming July 2013:
Red Rock Rises
Book 1 in
The Red Rock Romantic Suspense Series

If you enjoyed
CodeName: Red Rock,
do me a huge favor. Go back to
www.Amazon.com
, and please leave an honest review. Authors live and die by their reviews. The few extra seconds it takes really helps us authors out. Thank you!

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