Gabriella Ross smiled at him, and he almost fell off his f**king stool. “Long time no see,” she teased, lifting the longneck in her hand to her full cherry-red lips.

For a split second, he was mesmerized watching those lips encircle the mouth of her bottle, imagining them encircling something on him…and then he snapped out of it. “Hey, there. Yeah, it’s been all of, what, five hours?” He checked his watch out of some mindless reflex, not because he gave two shits what time it was.

“Come here often?” she asked, lifting a wing-shaped brow in what he took as sardonic acknowledgment of the ages-old pickup line.

“Not really. Got off a little early, thought I’d unwind for a bit. What about you?”

She indicated the beer in her hand. “I thought I would try to dull the flames raging on my back.”

“Oh.” He winced on her behalf. “Yeah, that’s all part of it. Sorry.”

“It’s all right. It’ll be worth it.”

“It will be, but in the meantime… You might need something a little stronger than that.”

“Is that your way of saying you want to buy me a drink?” She tossed her hair behind her shoulder, that magnificently shiny hair, and her come-hither look damn near drowned him where he sat.

Gone was the woman of five hours ago. In her place was…Satan. He stared at her a moment, uncomprehending, fighting his way back from whatever haze of blind lust she was dragging him to. What the f**k was this?

Brian’s earlier words rang through his head. He took another long pull on his beer and set it down hard, getting off his stool. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” He avoided her eyes as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and threw some bills on the bar.

“What did I say wrong?” Still with that damn amusement. Like he and everything around her was here for her enjoyment, for her to toy with. As if she didn’t give a shit if he shot her down, because there was any number of other poor bastards in here for her to prey on.

“Come on, now,” he said tightly, though he strove for a light tone. “Let’s not mix business with pleasure.”

“Wow. Getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? Okay, I can buy my own drinks. I just thought it was nice to see a friendly face.” She turned away from him to face the bar then, and he caught of glimpse of the long length of her slender legs, shown to their best advantage on the barstool.

Yeah, and if he left her here, any one of these other poor bastards was going to take his seat. For reasons he didn’t care to evaluate, that made his blood simmer.

Sighing and cursing himself for a damn fool, he reclaimed his spot next to her. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just… Forget it. I don’t mean to be rude. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He waved for the bartender.

“Oh, hell no. Not if I have to practically beg for it.” She intercepted the girl behind the bar before he could open his mouth. “Double Stoli and tonic.” Then she did a fair job of ignoring him while the bartender made it for her.

“Are you just f**king with me, or are you really pissed?” he asked, watching the TV screen in front of them as Kinsler grounded out to a chorus of groans from the other patrons.

“I’m not pissed. You’d know if I were pissed.”

Somehow he didn’t doubt that. “So this is…what for you? Vaguely annoyed?”

She cut him a look. “This is…‘whatever’.”

Ian raked a hand through his hair and began to wonder if he was starting to see what the guys at Dermamania had been talking about. Even Ghost had been wary of this woman, and not much rattled that guy. Hell, his girlfriend was a little scary in her own right.

“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. It would be my pleasure to buy you a drink, but…I work for your brother and—”

“Please. Do not worry about my little brother.”

“Your little brother is my boss. You’re my client. And—”

“You never mix business with pleasure,” she supplied. “Got it.”

The way she purred that sentence in between sips of her drink, focusing on the “pleasure”… Oh goddamn, he wanted to mix it. He wanted to mix it hard. “It’s not…a hard-and-fast rule or anything.”

“Not hard and fast?”

Shit. He felt like a f**king mouse being batted back and forth between the paws of a very svelte, very cunning feline, and given that he’d spent all damn day thinking about her, he wasn’t sure he liked it. There was a certain perverse curiosity in wondering when she was going to stick her claws in, though, and maybe it was best to hurry her plan along. Whatever it was.

“What the hell are you doing?”

That got her attention, and her musical laughter surfaced again. “I’m not doing anything, Ian. Hey, look, I appreciate what you did for me today. Stepping up the way you did, and then calming me down when…things got weird. Seriously. Thank you. I should buy you a drink.”

“Nah…I’m good,” he muttered, still off balance from the delicate floral notes of her perfume and her sheer allure. “It’s my job. Nothing more.”

“Oh?”

“Well…” It had been more than that. He was a damn liar if he said otherwise. But he didn’t want her to know that. He needed to stay clear of this one. At all costs.

But this was a woman who knew her own power. She knew it so well that she could call bullshit on any pitiful excuse he tried to make up as to why he didn’t want her. Every man in this building wanted her, and she wore that knowledge. It shrouded her as surely as her dark curtain of lustrous hair. Whatever humiliation had befallen her a few months ago damn sure hadn’t affected her self-esteem.

“Yeah, it’s my job,” he finished lamely.

“You’re very good at your job, then. I see why Brian has such faith in you.”

“I appreciate that.”

Onscreen, Beltre took that moment to slam one out of the park, giving the Rangers the edge over the Blue Jays, and the room erupted in boisterous approval. Gabriella even joined in. “So you like baseball?” Ian asked once the shouts died down.

“I love it. Me and Mar—um, yeah, I used to go to Rangers games whenever I had a chance. Not often, but I loved it.”

“Me too. Kinda wish I were there right now.”

“Right? So if you wish you were there, why are you here?”

“Needed a fresh start. I knew Brian from some mutual friends we have in Dallas. Kara and Marco?”

“Sorry, I don’t know anything about many of Brian’s friends.”

“Oh. Well, they taught him—and me—everything we know. I worked in their studio, but they were saying he needed help here, so I came.”

“Just like that?”

“Like I said, I needed a new start.”

“Why?”

He sucked a breath in through his teeth. “I have my reasons.”

“Ooh, mystery.” She gave him a nudge with her elbow. “I like a mystery.”

She wouldn’t like this one. He damn sure didn’t. “What about you?” he asked. “You’re here, wishing you were there too.”