Banks, Maya - Falcon Mercenary Group 01 - Into The Mist.pdf - Maya Banks - beilic_petro

Chapter One

She had the look of a woman on a mission. Eli Chance

recognized a sexual predator

when he saw one. And damn if he didn’t want to be her

next victim.

He watched from his perch at the bar as she waded

through the mass of writhing

bodies on the dance ﬂoor. Music boomed and swelled,

bouncing off the walls and

shaking the room. The tight techno beat wielded a

frenetic energy, reﬂected in the wildly

rotating laser lights.

The popular Singapore nightclub sheltered a wide

variety of people and types, from

the very young—too young to be in a nightclub—to the

not much older orange-haired,

pierced, tattooed throwbacks to the eighties. Mixed in

were the deadbeats, those who

dealt in prostitution rings, gun running and drug

dealing.

And yet, he’d bet his last dollar his mystery woman fell

into none of those

categories.

She paused on the outer rim of the dance ﬂoor, her

gaze searching the crowd beyond.

Then her eyes settled on him. She moved forward

again, her long, dark hair sliding like

silk over her shoulders.

Eli raised one brow. Was she looking for him? He held

her gaze before allowing his

to drop meaningfully down her body. The thin piece of

material posing as her shirt was

nothing more than a square of satin held together by

two strings. One circling her neck

and the other tied around her back just below her

breasts.

And very nice breasts they were.

She wore jeans tight enough that he guessed it hadn’t

been an easy task to put them

on, but he appreciated the effort, because he simply

knew her ass would be to die for.

And he would get a glimpse before the night was over.

He moved down her shapely legs until he got to her

feet. Lord have mercy, she wore

combat boots. Color me in lust .

“Like what you see?”

He lifted his gaze back to her face. She was a mere foot

away from him now, and he

leaned forward, wanting to see the color of her eyes.

All the damn ﬂashing lights in this

joint were about to make his head bust wide open, not

to mention they were interfering

with his perusal of the woman he planned to take home

for the night.

She stared back at him unﬂinchingly. She raised one

eyebrow in question.

“Yeah, I like,” he drawled.

She moved past him to the bar, and he was forced to

turn sideways on his barstool.

He pulled his head back to let his gaze wander down

her backside. The “shirt” she wore

had no back. It bared a tantalizing expanse of her skin.

And her ass… Oh yeah, he liked

very much.

She wasn’t all soft woman and curves. She had a lean

muscle tone that bespoke of a

rigid ﬁtness regimen. Nice. He bet he could bounce a

quarter off her abdomen. But her

breasts and ass? Just perfect. Just the right amount of

soft and swell. He listened as she

gave her drink order to the bartender, puzzling over her

accent. It wasn’t one he could

place, and he was an expert at languages. At ﬁrst, he’d

thought it sounded Eastern

European, but she had hints of other places mixed in.

A little American, a little French

and maybe even a little Hispanic. A regular mutt.

He leaned in closer, not wanting to shout over the

bellowing music. “Where are you

from?”

She cocked her head sideways, her green eyes glowing

from the ﬂorescent tube of

lighting that ran the length of the bar.

“I’m from lots of places.”

Vague heifer. Ah well, it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t

as though he was marrying

her.

The bartender slid a shot glass toward her, and she

curled her hand around it, raising

it and throwing it back in one gulp. Eli liked a woman

who could hold her liquor. Unless

being sober was an impediment to him getting her into

bed.

She turned around, resting her elbows against the bar

as she gazed out at the sea of

Banks, Maya - Falcon Mercenary Group 01 - Into The Mist.pdf

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