was too much of a difference to be explained away by the idiosyncrasies of phone transmission alone. She probably worked at sounding professional, but as far as he was concerned, she’d only sounded robotic. Maybe he should tell her. Maybe he would.
Out in the hallway, Nicholas could be heard introducing himself, and then the door opened. His lieutenant entered first, which was probably unusual in a human corporate setting. In his experience, the guest would normally be permitted to enter first, followed by their escort. But in Lucas’s world, especially while they were at war with their neighbor, Nicholas would never permit a stranger to approach Lucas directly. And then there was the fact that Kathryn Hunter was FBI. Nicholas had been infected by Lucas’s distrust of police authorities, and so he entered first, with the FBI agent sandwiched between him and Magda , who stood at the door.
Lucas didn’t stand. Why should he? Agent Hunter wasn’t a guest. She was an interloper, an interrogator. And she certainly wasn’t due any respect of position from him. He was far more powerful than she was.
“My lord,” Nicholas said formally, and stepped aside, giving Lucas his first real view of Kathryn Hunter.
Well, well, he thought to himself. Agent Hunter was definitely not what he’d pictured. He’d expected someone who lived up to that robotic phone voice—some sort of Brunhilde with sturdy hips and shoulders to match. What he got was the sexy-voiced version instead. Kathryn Hunter was quite lovely. Or, she would be if she permitted herself. She was tall, nearly six-foot despite those sensible boots. Put her in a pair of lipstick-red, fuck-me heels and she’d definitely top six-foot. Lucas liked tall women. He liked to fuck tall women. Well, okay, he liked to fuck women of pretty much any height. But his favorite fuckable women were tall because he was well over six-foot himself, and he liked to kiss the women he bedded. He especially liked to kiss them while he was inside them, and that was always easier when the parts matched up so nicely.
And speaking of kissing, his personal FBI agent had a mouth to match the voice. Soft, puffy lips that were made for wrapping around a man’s cock, and she was wearing just a hint of pink gloss that she probably considered practical. But it gave her mouth a vulnerable, little-girl-lost look. Not that she was a little girl. Oh, no. Miss FBI was very much all grown up. She was, however, very prim and proper, just like Kofi had said, with her long, blond hair pulled into a high and tight pony tail, and every hair in place. Her figure was slender for the most part, although he suspected her breasts were much fuller than they appeared. She probably wore some sort of sports bra to flatten her natural assets. He supposed it made sense, given her profession, but it only made him more curious to see the real things.
The rest of her body was camouflaged by a boring, dark blue pants suit and a white button-up blouse that was d efinitely buttoned up . . . all the way to her neck. His fingers itched to twitch open that top button and reveal her delicate neck. Actually, they twitched to do a lot more than that, but he’d settle for that top button. No woman should ever be that buttoned up.
Slender hips, long legs . . . his perusal traveled back to her face and a pair of dark blue eyes that were regarding him with something short of a friendly look.
He grinned unapologetically. “Agent Hunter,” he said, without rising.
Her jaw tightened, but she stepped forward and reached across his desk to offer her hand. “ Special Agent Kathryn Hunter,” she said, aiming for crisp, but that bedroom voice of hers wasn’t made for it.
Lucas stood slowly and took her hand in his. It put her at a disadvantage, because she’d stretched across the desk to reach him. She was now left leaning forward while he stood straight, holding her in place by virtue of their joined hands. Lucas made no
Out in the hallway, Nicholas could be heard introducing himself, and then the door opened. His lieutenant entered first, which was probably unusual in a human corporate setting. In his experience, the guest would normally be permitted to enter first, followed by their escort. But in Lucas’s world, especially while they were at war with their neighbor, Nicholas would never permit a stranger to approach Lucas directly. And then there was the fact that Kathryn Hunter was FBI. Nicholas had been infected by Lucas’s distrust of police authorities, and so he entered first, with the FBI agent sandwiched between him and Magda , who stood at the door.
Lucas didn’t stand. Why should he? Agent Hunter wasn’t a guest. She was an interloper, an interrogator. And she certainly wasn’t due any respect of position from him. He was far more powerful than she was.
“My lord,” Nicholas said formally, and stepped aside, giving Lucas his first real view of Kathryn Hunter.
Well, well, he thought to himself. Agent Hunter was definitely not what he’d pictured. He’d expected someone who lived up to that robotic phone voice—some sort of Brunhilde with sturdy hips and shoulders to match. What he got was the sexy-voiced version instead. Kathryn Hunter was quite lovely. Or, she would be if she permitted herself. She was tall, nearly six-foot despite those sensible boots. Put her in a pair of lipstick-red, fuck-me heels and she’d definitely top six-foot. Lucas liked tall women. He liked to fuck tall women. Well, okay, he liked to fuck women of pretty much any height. But his favorite fuckable women were tall because he was well over six-foot himself, and he liked to kiss the women he bedded. He especially liked to kiss them while he was inside them, and that was always easier when the parts matched up so nicely.
And speaking of kissing, his personal FBI agent had a mouth to match the voice. Soft, puffy lips that were made for wrapping around a man’s cock, and she was wearing just a hint of pink gloss that she probably considered practical. But it gave her mouth a vulnerable, little-girl-lost look. Not that she was a little girl. Oh, no. Miss FBI was very much all grown up. She was, however, very prim and proper, just like Kofi had said, with her long, blond hair pulled into a high and tight pony tail, and every hair in place. Her figure was slender for the most part, although he suspected her breasts were much fuller than they appeared. She probably wore some sort of sports bra to flatten her natural assets. He supposed it made sense, given her profession, but it only made him more curious to see the real things.
The rest of her body was camouflaged by a boring, dark blue pants suit and a white button-up blouse that was d efinitely buttoned up . . . all the way to her neck. His fingers itched to twitch open that top button and reveal her delicate neck. Actually, they twitched to do a lot more than that, but he’d settle for that top button. No woman should ever be that buttoned up.
Slender hips, long legs . . . his perusal traveled back to her face and a pair of dark blue eyes that were regarding him with something short of a friendly look.
He grinned unapologetically. “Agent Hunter,” he said, without rising.
Her jaw tightened, but she stepped forward and reached across his desk to offer her hand. “ Special Agent Kathryn Hunter,” she said, aiming for crisp, but that bedroom voice of hers wasn’t made for it.
Lucas stood slowly and took her hand in his. It put her at a disadvantage, because she’d stretched across the desk to reach him. She was now left leaning forward while he stood straight, holding her in place by virtue of their joined hands. Lucas made no
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