Lured (Team Zero #1) by Rina Kent

I clutch one of the coffee bean boxes close to my chest to focus on anything but him. And to hide the maddening rhythm of my heartbeat. “Yes.”

His forefinger caresses his bottom lip while he appears deep in thoughts. I pause my task. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on anything but the back and forth of his forefinger on his lips? Heat coils down my back. When has it become so hot in the small storage room?

La vache. I’ve been ogling for too long.

I snap my eyes to his. I suck in a breath at how he’s watching me. His deep brown eyes darken with interest and something else I can’t pinpoint. My body leaps to attention, and I barely hold my weight against the shelves.

His forefinger drops from his lips, and I curse it and him for forbidding me from the show.

“Meet me at lunchtime.”

It isn’t a request or an order. It’s a simple declaration like he has everything figured out and all I had to do was accept.

This is how sociopaths work. They just enchant people with their natural charm and overwhelming confidence. The next thing I know, I’ll be fighting to keep my life together – or worse, to stay alive.

Dominic might have drawn me in like the devil to hell ever since the beginning, but if he thinks I’m one of those gullible girls who fall for his charm unknowingly, then he has another thing coming.

I push the box in place and face him. If there’s one thing Papa has always taught me then it’s to never run away and face things heads on.

“What makes you think I want to meet you at lunchtime?” I’m so glad my voice comes out even.

“A hunch.”

“A hunch?”

“You’ve been watching me, Camille.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. He knew all along? I thought I was careful enough.

“I was watching your group.” I keep my ground.

“Why?” His question takes me by surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Why were you watching us?”

“Everyone in the coffee shop does. Rich, young, and pretty kind of draws the attention.” I’m proud of how I got myself out of that one.

“Perhaps.” He closes in, and his proximity turns on the heating in the small space. I’m so tempted to lean close and inhale his head-turning scent deep in my lungs – and maybe in my memories.

“The way you watch is different.” He measures me from top to bottom. I’m only in shorts and a sleeveless tank top covered by the coffee shop non-flattering apron. Although his gaze gives nothing away, I can’t help the need to squirm.

His deep, destabilising gaze meets mine again. “You don’t look like the type who’d be drawn by what interests the foul.”

“How do you know that?”

“A hunch.”

“Do you always go by your hunch?”

“Probably. Probably not.” He flashes me that full-of-shit grin. “Meet me at lunch to find out.”

He’s baiting me.

It’s working.

To say I was curious about him would be the understatement of the freaking century. I want to dig my teeth in him and suck whatever he has to offer like some vampire.

Bah alors. That’s creepy.

But I really want to know more. I only read about his type in books and some realistic films. This is the first time I’m meeting a sociopath, and probably a pseudo-psychopath in real life.

I ran away from home to have this adventure.

Only… one look into those shrouded brown eyes and I know he can rip me apart. I might and would regret this.

What’s an adventure without a risk?

“D’accord,” I say then quickly follow up with, “I mean, okay.”

He has that full-of-shit grin again. I’m sure he thinks he just got what he wants as usual. There’s no need to let him know that I’m aware of what he is. It might trigger his ruthless, conquest-driven side.

I’ll just consider him my adventure. I’m giddy thinking about what tricks he has up his sleeves, and if I will be able to detect them.

He steps closer so he’s caging me between him and the shelf. His body heat overwhelms mine, and my breathing hitches. He places a piece of paper in my apron.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“An address.”

His index finger reaches for me and he rubs my bottom lip just like he did with his earlier.

It’s as if someone lit my body on fire. A moan lodges at the back of my throat. It takes everything in me to not open my mouth and suck his finger inside.

My eyes lock with his. A zip of energy shoots between us, and I gulp. His forefinger stops sweeping back and forth, but he doesn’t remove it from my lip. Dominic seems caught in the moment as much as I am. Or perhaps he’s acting his part? How many has he done this to before? Were their brains about to fly, too?

After a long, overpowering silence, he says, “Don’t change your clothes.”

“Why?”

Still having his finger on my lips, he leans in. His hot breaths tickle my skin, and goosebumps erupt all over. His lips brush against my earlobe, and I shudder.

His deep, authoritative tone locks my muscles together. “Because I said so, Camille.”





Chapter Four





I stare at his back outlined by the fit jacket as he strides out of the storage room. His steps are measured, confident, and so effing commanding.