Read Online Wallbanger by Sable Jordan - Free Book Online

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dangerous perch. In a month, he would resign from his post leaving
the security and stability he was accustomed to, and step out to
see the world. The knowledge emboldened him, made him walk a little
taller, but after years of being safe he still treaded carefully.
After all, 90% of screw-ups came from basic human error.
    He took a sip of his club soda and scanned
the crowded bar. I’m putting all this behind me. It couldn’t
happen soon enough.
    A loud noise erupted from the area of the
dartboards, and someone shouted, “She kicked your ass again!”
    He turned his attention to the laughing
crowd. An angry man, the loser he assumed, stormed out of the sea
of bodies, yanked his coat from the tree by the entrance and left.
Cool night air crept in before the door swung closed again. To his
right, someone brushed against him and he swiveled his head.
    “Excuse me,” the woman said. “Still a little
excited about my victory.”
    “No problem.”
    “Another Heineken, Shirley.” She bopped to
the music while waiting for the drink.
    He looked her over—Georgetown sweatshirt,
fitted blue jeans and hiking boots. She had a cute face, tanned
skin, and, if he had to guess, she was just old enough to be in her
third or fourth year at the University. Likelihood of getting
shot down—fifty-fifty. Feeling good, he decided to take a
chance. “How much did you get him for?”
    “Sorry?” She looked at him with big brown
eyes.
    Daniel sipped his drink and jerked his head
toward the door, trying to affect an air of coolness he’d never
tried on before; wasn’t quite sure fit. “Tommy—the guy whose ego
you just bruised. How much?”
    A half smile graced her lips. “Six hundred
and eighty.”
    His eyes widened and he whistled. “You two
really had a game going. He’s one of the better players in
town.”
    She angled her body toward him, propping one
elbow on the bar. “Am I looking at the best, then?”
    “Damn straight.” He grinned. By the look on
her face she wasn’t impressed. “Daniel Gilbert,” he said, hand
extended.
    Even odds she’d walk away.
    “Lana James.” Her grip was firm, unexpected
from someone so small, but the confidence in her smile backed it
up. “Want to put your money where your mouth is, Mr. Gilbert?”
    He let his hold on her last a little longer
and shook his head. “Don’t gamble at darts anymore. People stopped
lining up to play.”
    “You can’t be that good,” she
challenged. “What are you drinking?”
    He noticed a ring on her left hand when she
accepted the beer from the barkeep. Middle finger—not engaged.
Probability of having my ass kicked by a fiancé: zero. By a
boyfriend… . “Club soda.”
    Lana’s tiny brow knit. “Stopped drinking
too?” She giggled. “Loser buys the next round of sodas, then.”
    Daniel’s gaze landed on her mouth, studying
the way it moved while she spoke. She trapped her tongue lightly
between her teeth, and he looked up to catch the flirtatious gleam
in her eyes.
    “We could wager something else…if you want….”
She let that hang on the air, her gaze making a trip down his body
before returning to his, and for once in Daniel’s risk-assessing
life it seemed someone had done the computing for him. He thrummed
with excitement as he always did when the odds were firmly in his
favor.
    Her beer went on the countertop beside his
club soda and she stepped into his personal space. Mouth at his ear
Lana breathed, “Come play with me, Danny.”
    * * * *
    Helsinki, Finland
    Sacha Sokoviev slammed the painting back in
place and then cleared every item from his desk with an angry swipe
of his arm. Fist balled, he slammed the exposed wood, letting out a
frustrated growl. He dragged his shirtsleeve under his nose and
sank into the leather, button-tufted chair. The latest update was
no different than the others: Fedot, his guard, hadn’t found the
girl. That would disrupt his overall plan.
    And then there was the Amerikanskoy .
    On principle,