“You are talking about Isadora Fuentes, right?  Coz if you are, you should know she does exactly the opposite of what someone she doesn’t like tells her to do.”

“She likes me. If she didn’t, she’d answer my call,” Flynn said as he strode to the front door.

As he hustled down the front porch steps to his car, Charlie called, “That’s okay, Special Agent, because if you didn’t like her back you wouldn’t be here, and you know it!”

Flynn shook his head, not denying it.

“I know she likes you, FBI man!  Too much for her own good, and that’s the problem! She’s an all-or-nothing girl! Don’t you dare go near her again unless you plan on sticking around!”

Flynn cracked a smile as Charlie called him out.  She liked him?  He liked her too, damn it.

Chapter Seventeen

Flynn literally flew across the Bay Bridge, the late-morning traffic lull in his favor.  Putting his foot to the metal, he roared into the city.  Silently he thanked the heavens for the unfettered path to Pink. She had no idea the danger she was in. After his conversation with Justin earlier, Flynn knew that if he didn’t get her out of the club and keep her out, she was going to end up in the black abyss of the sex slave market. In all probability, it was what had happened to Alexandra Chastain. It wasn’t going to happen to her sister. Not on his watch.

Knowing he’d get push back from Pink, he had a Plan B. He didn’t like it, but it was his only option short of kidnapping her and holding her hostage. Which he thought, if he could get away with it, might not be such a bad idea.

Focus on the mission, not the woman, he told himself.

White-knuckled, he expertly navigated the city streets. Purposely he kept his mind clear of all things Pink and bubble gum.  Purposely he kept the fact that they were worlds apart from his thoughts. Purposely he tried not to remember the sigh of her breath as he entered her and the warm rush of it against his cheek.  He couldn’t stop thinking of her when everything reminded him of her.

Downshifting, he cursed, taking the turn too tight.  Quickly he made the adjustment and upshifted angrily.

Every memory of Isadora Fuentes infused him.  If he were chained inside of a jail cell, he’d feel less imprisoned.  The urge to take her into his arms and whisk her away from her life and into his bed was becoming unendurable.  Since the death of his mother, Flynn could not remember being in such a dark place.

He felt blindsided. She’d gotten to him, damn it.  His reaction to her had left him vulnerable and unsure, two emotions he refused to allow power over him. He needed to find a way to purge her from his system.

As he sped into the parking lot behind Surf’s Up, he caught a flash of pink and blond hair slipping behind the metal back door.

“Christ,” he cursed, throwing the car into park.  He hurried out and headed to the back of the club.  When he grasped the handle to open the door, it didn’t budge.

Moving around to the other side of the lot, he saw a beat-up silver Nissan parked in the Reserved For Management spot.  He highly doubted that Andre the Giant or Boris Sorlov drove a crappy economy car. He called SFPD dispatch, identified himself, and had them run the plate.  It came back as belonging to a Sherry Lauler.  Forty-nine, five foot five, one sixty, San Fran resident.

Letting out a long breath, Flynn strode back to the metal door Pink had slipped behind, leaned against the wall near the corner, crossed his arms, and waited. Five minutes. That was all he was going to give her.  If she wasn’t out, he was going in.

Several minutes later, the door opened back toward him, hiding him from whoever opened it. Not realizing he was standing there, Pink strode away from him, toward the street.  Her bubble gum scent fucking with his testosterone.

“You know, for your line of work you really should be more aware of your surroundings,” he said as he unwound himself and walked toward her.

Pink jumped, turned, and screamed all at the same time.  Wide-eyed, she stared at him.  The color drained from her cheeks.

“Damn it, Pink, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, hurrying toward her. Make a point yes, terrify no.

Putting her hand out in a Stop position, she shook her head and damn if there weren’t tears in her eyes.  “Don’t come any closer,” she said, her soft breathless voice killing him with its hurt.  “Please, leave me alone.”  She backed up, then turned and ran toward the street.

“Isa!” he called, following.  “What the hell’s wrong?”

Shaking her head, she kept moving away from him.

“Talk to me, damn it!”

She stopped in her tracks.  He stopped, too.  Ten feet separated them.  He watched the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders and knew she was fighting back emotion.  He hated himself at that moment for scaring her.

Slowly, she turned and faced him.  God, she was beautiful.  She took his breath away. The breeze ruffled her soft hair, her big sea green eyes so full of emotion, they chipped away at him.  Her full pink lips trembled slightly and that killer body of hers stood rigid with pride.  She was dressed in a pair of low-slung black jeans that were stylishly distressed with thin cuts across the thighs and knees. The long-sleeved pink shirt she wore embraced her curves in a soft, flattering way, exposing one creamy shoulder.  Self-consciously she pushed the sleeves down as if to protect herself from what he was sure his face and body language screamed it wanted.  Her pink toes peeked out from the wedge sandals she wore.  She looked good enough to eat.

“I don’t like you, Flynn Ryker. You’re a mean elitist who doesn’t keep his word.”  Taking a deep breath, she continued.  “You hurt me.  I don’t want to see you ever again.”  She took a step toward him.  “Do you understand that?”

His heart thudded hard against his ribcage. He nodded.  “Yes.”

“Good,” she choked back, then turned, and continued toward the street.

She was hurt and she was pissed; no way was she going listen to anything he had to say when it came to her personally. Go directly to Plan B. “I kept my word about helping you find Alex,” he called.  “That’s why I’m here.”

She stopped again. His heart slammed painfully against his chest as he strode toward her.  “There are some people I want you to meet,” he said, his voice quieter.

“What kind of people?” she asked without turning around.

Flynn stopped an arm’s length behind her.  If he got closer, her body heat would lure him into her spell.  “The kind that can help you find your sister.”

She turned around, eyeing him warily.  “Really?”

Tension tightened his muscles as if he could repel all of the things about her that drew him to her.  He didn’t like it, but damn it, at least with the task force involved, she’d be safe if she wouldn’t listen to reason. Though Flynn knew she wouldn’t. Not until she found her sister.

“Yeah, really.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded.  “Where are these people?”

“At the Federal Building.”

Raising her chin, she said, “I’m just a lowly cocktailer who flashed your buddies, Flynn, why did you change your mind?”

“I gave you my word.” And it had become personal to him.

“Do you really want to introduce me to your friends? Aren’t you afraid I’ll taint them? Taint your reputation?”

“Stop it,” he bit off.

“Have any of these people seen my boobs?”

“Yes, damn it, and I don’t like it.”

“Then why do it?”

“Because your safety is important to me.”

“A strip club server’s safety is important to a society man like you?”

“Stop it, damn it!  You’re not some piece of trash.”

“I’m glad you finally realize that, Flynn.”

Her words sucked the fight out of him.  She was right. He was an asshole. Extending his hand toward the other side of the parking lot to his car, he said, “If you’ll accept a ride from me, we can go now.”