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Chapter 2

Oh, no. She froze, checking out the quickest routes to the exits. Still… I don’t sense any danger.

“I’m hoping I sat down at a table in your section,” he said, winking at her.

Oh, that smile is so sexy. This has to be a coincidence.

But the smarter part of her instincts told her what she already knew: there aren’t enough tiger-shifters in the world for any kind of coincidence.

“Yes, sir, you have,” she answered, working to keep her waitress voice on. And she couldn’t help but smile back. She was close enough to him that she didn’t even have to walk up to the table to be heard. “Would you like some water?”

“Yes, please. And two frozen margaritas. With salt.”

“Sure.” For an instant, she actually had to fight a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

What the hell is wrong with me? I should be running as fast as I can—not flirting.

“After all,” the handsome man continued, “you can’t expect me to drink alone, can you?” He paused, his dark brown eyes sparkling up at her. “Will you have a drink with me?”

“Oh.” She blinked, more flustered than she had any right to be—it wasn’t like he was the first man who’d asked her to have a drink with him. “Actually, I can’t drink with customers while I’m on the job, as much as I would love to. But I’ll get yours right away.”

“Well, then, how about when you’re not on the job?” She couldn’t decide if that counted as adorably persistent or if her knowledge that he was a tiger-shifter was skewing her perceptions.

Instead of answering, she half-smiled and headed over to the bar to get his drinks. The bartender, Carla, gave her a look. “Why do you always get all the hotties? Why couldn’t he have come to the bar, if he’s eating alone?”

Lana glanced back over her shoulder. “He is gorgeous, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Best-looking man so far tonight. And he’s staring right at you.”

“And he told me he wanted two margaritas, so I could share one with him.”

“Wow, he doesn’t waste any time, does he?”

“So, what do I do? Bring both or just the one?”

Carla laughed aloud. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this interested in anyone who’s come in here.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at Lana. “Play along, I think. Take two. See what he says. Sounds like he might a sense of humor.”

“Okay, do it. Frozen. With salt. And a glass of ice water.”

“Coming right up.”

When Lana returned to the table with the tray of beverages, she realized that the left sleeve of the man’s golf shirt dangled empty—his left arm was missing entirely. Yet he carried himself with such confidence that she hadn’t noticed until she stood right in front of him.

“Oh, so you are joining me.” One corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin as she served him.

“As much as I would love to, I kind of need my job. Here are your drinks, though, sir.”

“Roman.”

“Roman? That’s your name?”

“It is.”

“I bet other men would kill to have that name.”

“Or just to kill,” he threw in, dryly, but still smiling cheerfully.

“Um... okay.” Lana wasn’t really sure how to respond to that comment. Better take it as a hint to get back to my actual job. “Have you had a chance to look at the menu yet, Roman?” Lana gave him an ever-so-slightly flirtatious look when she repeated his name.

Okay. Maybe not entirely back to my job.

“What I want is definitely not on the menu.”

“Oh, god,” she rolled her eyes in half- feigned disappointment. “You can do better than that, can’t you?”

“Tell me how good I need to be for you.” He leaned in. “And I’ll do it.”

“Maybe I prefer bad over good.” She flashed him a devilish look, even as she knew she was taking a huge risk even flirting with him.

There is no way he can work for Trevor, right? Trevor associates with the scum of the Earth. This guy is way out of Trevor’s league. Roman probably wouldn’t even have Trevor as a janitor.

Or was that wishful thinking? Did it really matter? It wasn’t like flirting would give away her true identity. She wasn’t even sure Trevor was still looking for her.

“I can do that,” he said in a low tone. “I’m pretty good at being bad.”

“And I’ve never heard that one before.” She cocked her head at him.

She was not in any hurry to get his order and move on, but she knew it was only a matter of time before more customers made it back to her section—or worse, before Phil walked by.

“Well, then, I’ll keep trying until I find one you haven’t heard.”

“I don’t know, Roman.” She liked the way his name felt in her mouth. “Working on the River Walk, I sure do hear and see a lot.”

“Well, then, how about some chips and queso while I work on something original. I mean, while I look at the menu?” He winked at her.

“Gotcha,” she confirmed and turns toward the kitchen.

“Thank you, Lana,” he called out to her.

Thank you, Lana, she heard it repeat in her head. How sexy her name sounded coming from his throat. And as much as she hated to admit it, the fact that he was a tiger shifter made him even more attractive to her.

When she returned from the kitchen with his chips and queso, she slowed, taking the opportunity to study him. He sensed her approaching, though, and looked up before she reached the table.

“I got you a fresh batch.” She unloaded the tray. “Made it myself, just in case someone special came to my section tonight.”

And not the usual special ingredient she still kept with her at all times in case one of Trevor’s men showed up. Though that’s never out of the question if my instincts about this Roman guy turn out to be wrong.

“Well, I feel honored,” he said, and it took her a second to catch up as he played along. “It looks like I chose the right section, then.”

“So, what on the menu interests you this evening?”

“I have a confession to make.”

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What’s his confession?
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