She took a sip of her coffee. Her lashes fell half-mast, and an appreciative moan escaped her as she savored the warmth and flavor. "I have to agree with your assessment of the drinks. This is the best café mocha I've had in a long time."

He watched her lick a dollop of whipped cream off her upper lip, and felt his entire body tighten with the urge to taste her for himself. Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat and focused on business, with the pretense of getting to know her-which would hopefully lead to yet another date between them. Time was of the essence since he had no idea when Mendoza's men planned to show up and follow through on their threats against Lora, and getting as close to her as possible, and quickly, was his top priority.

"So tell me something. You mentioned having to work in the morning. I know the bar isn't open during the day, so I'm guessing you have a second job?"

"My day job, which is my main source of employment, is at the St. Claire Hotel." She wrapped both her hands around her cup, as if to absorb the warmth of the drink. "I'm a masseuse at the spa."

He stretched back in his seat and let a lazy smile tip up the corners of his mouth. "Which means you must be very good with your hands," he teased, then took a drink of his cappuccino, which was strong and rich, just how he liked it.

She rolled her eyes at the double entendre encompassing his comment. "Oh, please."

He chuckled. "Okay, I'll admit, that was cheesy."

"Definitely cheesy," she agreed wholeheartedly, though she was smiling in amusement. "It's a pickup line I hear much too often from the businessmen that stay at the hotel and are interested in after-hour, off-the-clock company, if you know what I mean."

He dropped his gaze to the slender fingers holding her cup of coffee. "Well, your hands do look incredibly soft and smooth." Reaching across the table, he gently grasped one of her hands and caressed his thumb along her silky palm. "They feel that way, too. Not at all like a cocktail waitress who has her hands in water all the time and spends her evenings cleaning up after customers."

Heat and awareness kindled in her gaze as he continued to stroke his fingers along her hand and fingers, but she didn't pull away. "It's the lotions and oils I use all day long. I suppose that outweighs the manual labor of working at The Electric Blue at night."

"Your work schedule is awfully busy." Reluctantly, he let her hand go, but he couldn't help but wonder if her skin felt as velvety soft everywhere else. Like her breasts. Her stomach. The inside of her thighs. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Sleep." She laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Seriously, I really don't mind all the work. It keeps me out of trouble and helps out my girlfriend Sydney when she's shorthanded at the bar."

Joel knew she spoke the truth. Not only had Zach told him about her heavy workload, Joel had done some investigating on his own and it appeared that Lora hadn't had much of a social life since she'd broken things off with her fiancé two years earlier. Basically, all work and no play had become her motto.

"Enough about me." She tucked her hair behind her ear and studied him curiously. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a partner in a security firm here in Chicago, along with Jon, whom you met back at the bar, and a few other friends. The company is Elite Security Specialists." He gave up the information easily, since he wasn't keeping his background or his personal life a secret. No, the only secret he was protecting was Zach's.

He went on. "We deal with intelligence issues, investigations, setting up surveillance, search and recovery, and we even travel internationally if requested." He deliberately left out the very basic "undercover protection" scenario, which reflected his current assignment with her.

She swirled the last of the liquid in her cup, her features full of fascinated interest. "Do you travel often for business?"

"As often as I can. I prefer the international assignments, actually. I like to travel and I'm known for taking on the edgier, more controversial gigs. It's something I enjoy."

Something in her expression changed. "So, your job is risky and dangerous."

"It can be, depending on the case," he said with a shrug. He'd spent most of his life pursuing a good challenge and adventure, so he rarely gave it a second thought. Being a risk-taker was who and what he was. "And other times my job is boring as hell. Security threat assessments, venue security, surveillance, that kind of stuff."

She tipped her head thoughtfully. "What you do sounds very high-tech."

"No, not really." A group of people walked into the café, and he gave them a quick glance before returning his attention to Lora. "A stint in the Marines in Special Ops does a lot to prepare a guy for all kinds of security assignments."

She appeared taken aback for a moment, and her brows creased in a slight, contemplative frown. "The Marines?"

"Yes, I served in the Marine Corps. Six years, actually." He watched her expression change and knew that things were clicking in her mind, just as he'd intended. He'd deliberately mentioned his time in the service, knowing where it could possibly lead. "Is something wrong?"

She studied his face intently. "What's your last name?"

"Wilde," he said, preparing himself for the snowball effect, when she realized exactly who he was. But it needed to be done in order to get at least one pretense out of the way.

Sure enough, realization dawned, and her green eyes widened in a combination of shock and surprise. "Joel Wilde," she said as a genuine smile appeared. "Oh my God. I thought you looked familiar when I first saw you at The Electric Blue, but I couldn't figure out where I'd seen you before. Your hair is much longer now than in the pictures I saw of you when you were in the Marines. You had a standard military crew cut then."

He pretended confusion, even as he inwardly winced at the recollection of having his hair shaved off when he'd enlisted. "Excuse me?"

Her grin blossomed full-fledge, and her eyes danced with amazement. "You served with my brother in the Marines and you were in the same unit. Zach Marshall?"

"Well I'll be damned," he drawled with just the right amount of astonishment. "You're Lora Marshall, Zach's sister."

She nodded enthusiastically. "That's right. Zach sent me pictures of the two of you and some of the other guys in his unit. He wrote me letters and mentioned your name all the time. You two were really good friends back then."

"I still consider Zach a good friend, though I have to admit that I haven't heard from him in years. How's he doing?" he asked, curious to find out what Lora knew of her brother's habits and current way of life.

She inhaled a deep breath and averted her gaze to her coffee cup. "The last I heard he was doing okay."

Obviously, Zach was a painful subject for her. "The last you heard?"

She glanced back up at him, and didn't bother to try and hide the heartache reflected in her eyes. "Honestly, it's been a while since we've talked, and months since I last saw him. I'm not even sure where he's living anymore."

"Don't you have any way of contacting Zach?" Surely her brother hadn't completely extricated himself from her life.

"I have his cell phone number, but he never picks up, so I just leave him messages. And he always seems to call me when I'm not home and uses the answering machine to let me know he's okay." She sighed softly and crossed her arms in front of her on the table. "I really miss him, and I wish he'd come home."

The honest emotion reverberating in her voice grabbed at Joel, forcing him to keep a tight rein on the rising anger he once again experienced toward Zach. For hurting his sister who cared so much about him. For using his sister as a pawn in his addictions. For letting alcohol and gambling ruin his life, and possibly Lora's.

"Oh, wow," she said with a shake of her head, which caused her thick, rich-looking hair to settle around her shoulders like a cloud of sable silk. "I didn't mean to get so melancholy on you. It's just that Zach hasn't been the same since he left the service, and I constantly worry about him."

"That's completely understandable." She had good reason to be concerned about her brother, and she didn't even know the half of the kind of trouble Zach was in.

She finished the last of her drink. "It's getting late and I really should get going," she said, regret in her tone.

Figuring they'd covered enough ground for one evening together, he didn't push her to stay longer. Instead, he stood and slipped into his leather jacket while she did the same with her coat. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your car," he said.

"I can't believe that you and I met," Lora mused as they strolled side by side toward The Electric Blue's parking lot. "I mean, what are the chances of that?"

If she only knew. "Very slim, I suppose." Unless a meeting was deliberate, as theirs had been.

They reached her car, a compact red Volkswagon Jetta, and she unlocked the vehicle with a press of her remote. She opened the door before turning back around to face him. "Where's your car?" she asked.

"My ride is right over there." He hooked a thumb back toward the front of The Electric Blue, where he'd parked his Ducati Multistrada, a badass bike that was built for power, speed, and a whole lotta fun.

"Ahhh, a big, black motorcycle. I should have guessed." She gave his appearance a quick, sultry once-over before meeting his gaze once again. "I have to admit, the bike suits you."

Grinning, he rested a hand on the door frame and braced his other arm on the roof of her car, caging her between the open door of the vehicle, and him. Then, he leaned in a bit closer. "Wanna go for a ride sometime?"