A Dangerously Sexy Affair. Stefanie London
made an adorable snorting noise, bobbing her head in agreement. “I got dragged here by a friend.”
“So you’re not a tech-head?”
“Oh, I am, but I do that on my own time.”
He sipped his drink. “Who’s your friend? I might know them.”
“Alana Peterson. She’s a tech reporter.”
Bingo. Not only were they friends, but they’d come here together. If Alana was involved in the leak, this woman might have heard about it.
“I’m familiar with the name, but I don’t think I’ve met her.”
“You would remember if you had.” A genuine smile tugged at her lips. “She’s quite a force.”
“Is she working on a story?”
“Yeah. She’s always fighting for better representation of women in the gaming industry,” the woman said, her voice tinted with pride. “She wants one of the game companies to commit to having a female lead in their games. Or at the very least she wants to find out why they haven’t had one to date.”
Ah, so that must be the grudge he’d heard about. “That game company wouldn’t happen to be Third Planet Studios, would it?”
She blinked. “How did you know that?”
“People talk. Her opinions have caused a stir, and not too many guys here seem to care about feminism.”
“Color me shocked.” Quinn rolled her eyes. “That only proves why we need people like Alana asking questions.”
“You’re absolutely right.” He breathed a sigh of relief.
He could recognize a lie when he heard one—he knew how to detect the sound of it, how to look for the telltale facial movements and tics. And how to do all of that without giving a thing away himself.
Thankfully, there was nothing but honesty in this enigmatic woman’s responses.
Which meant he could keep talking to her without the weight of suspicion hanging over them.
“Who do you work for?” she asked.
“Ricochet Studios,” he said, keeping to his script.
The plan was to tell people he was a game designer, some low-level minion at a big company where no one would be likely to call him out on the lie. He had enough knowledge to have a basic discussion about game design, and he was adept at manipulating conversation should anyone get close to sniffing him out.
His experience working for the FBI had equipped him to skate the truth with ease, not that he took any pleasure in it. But his job came first.
“The company who made ‘Slayer’s Faith’?” Her pink lips parted. “You worked on that game?”
The reverence in her voice was a huge boost to his ego, which was stupid since it meant nothing. “You play?”
“I clocked over a hundred hours on it. You don’t make it easy to get the platinum trophy.” She folded her arms, the action plumping up her breasts so that they pressed together in the deep V of the dress’s neckline. “It wasn’t quite as bad as finding all the pigeons in ‘GTA Four,’ mind you.”
A hot girl who knew her games? Heaven must have been smiling down on him. “Ah, you’re a completionist.”
“All the best gamers are.”
He took a slow sip of his wine. “What’s your favorite game?”
“That’s like asking me to pick a favorite limb.” Her dark brows creased.
“Chicken.” He laughed when she narrowed her gaze at him.
The diamond in her nose winked in the light and she tapped a finger to her cheek. The chipped black polish on her fingernails seemed at odds with the hotter-than-sin dress and sexy heels. But he enjoyed the combo; a little bit of contradiction made things more exciting...like there were secrets to be uncovered. A real person under the gloss.
“‘Slayer’s Faith,’” she said, nodding as if convincing herself. “Followed closely by ‘Mario Kart.’”
“What about Leafina? What does she play?” He looked at the potted plant again and a laugh burst from the pink-haired woman’s lips.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she said, her hazel eyes glinting.
“Sure.”
She leaned in close to his ear and cupped a hand around her mouth. “Leafina is kind of boring.”
Her hot breath on his neck flipped an “on” switch deep inside him and filled his whole body with energy. Damn.
He turned toward her, his nose inches from her cheek. “What did you say your name was?”
He realized then that she had hardly any makeup on. Her lashes were dark but not artificial, leaving the unusual green and gold flecks in her eyes to stand out on their own. Her pupils were wide, black.
A delicate blush spread out across her cheeks. “You can call me Pink.”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” He took a step closer until the space between them shrank to mere inches. “You’re playing hard to get.”
“I’m worth it.”
He didn’t doubt her for a second.
QUINN SIPPED HER WINE, the need for a little Dutch courage outweighing her dislike of the taste. The man in front of her was hot with a capital H—curly black hair, a sharp jaw and blue eyes that burned right through her...not to mention a pair of soft jeans that molded to his thighs like a dream—and she was flirting with him.
She didn’t flirt. Ever.
“I bet you’re a whiz at ‘Super Mario,’” Aiden said.
“What makes you say that?” She shifted on the high heels Alana had lent her, wishing that she was wearing something more comfortable.
Having a gorgeous guy stand so close to her was making her body haywire enough; she didn’t need to compound the effect with precariously tall heels. All that talk of sex and orgasms with Alana had her wound up tighter than a coil. Could this guy be the one to help her get back in the proverbial game?
She didn’t know him from a bar of soap...which was kind of the point. One-night stands didn’t end in betrayal because there were no expectations for tomorrow.
“You’ve got good gamer hands,” he said.
“Really?” She swallowed, curling her fingers into a fist to hide the chipped polish that she hadn’t had time to remove.
“Yeah, I can tell. Those are magic hands.”
She laughed and shook her head, hoping her face didn’t convey the electric thrill he’d given her. How was it possible for her to be so attracted to him so quickly? In the past it had taken her months of chatting to someone online before she would agree to meet and, even then, it would take several dates before she’d be comfortable enough to even fool around. Until she’d dated her ex...
She shuddered. No man had gotten close to her since. But two years had passed; she’d recovered. Moved on. And her libido had definitely returned.
“So tell me, Pink. What do you do for a living?”
Quinn took a swallow of her wine, stalling. She didn’t want to admit she was a lowly IT support officer, especially not when his job was so exciting. But she didn’t want to lie and say she was a tech-security expert, either, because that job wasn’t hers...yet.
“I, uh...” She swirled