And if it turned out that Tyler had gotten Amy involved with anything hinky, I’d castrate the son of a bitch.

First, I had to find him.

He’d been out of town for the last few weeks, so I had yet to see him in person, but I was certain I’d recognize him the moment he entered this room. Like I said, I’d done my homework, and where looking at photographs of Tyler Sharp was concerned, that wasn’t exactly a hardship. The man definitely qualified as eye candy.

He stood just over six feet tall with a lanky, athletic build and the kind of dark blond hair that boasts flashes of gold in the summer. I knew that his business interests were wide and varied and not always legal. And I knew that he carried an American Express Black card. He owned at least a dozen cars, but rarely drove them, preferring his Ducati motorcycle.

“You look lost.”

I’d been glancing toward the entrance, but now I jerked my head to the left and found myself staring at a leggy brown-eyed blonde with hair so thick and shiny she could do shampoo commercials. She held out her hand, and I took it without thinking. “I’m Katrina Laron—Kat,” she said, then hooked her thumb toward Angelina Raine. “I’m the bride’s best friend, which makes me the pseudo-hostess. And you are?”

Her smile was polite, but held an edge, and I was certain that she knew damn well I’d crashed the party.

Great.

“Sloane O’Dell,” I said, using my mother’s maiden name and not my own last name of Watson.

“Who are you here with? I think I know everyone on Lina’s side of the guest list, so you must be a friend of Evan’s?” Again with the polite smile. Again with the protective edge.

“I’m actually looking for Tyler,” I said, and prided myself on my ability to tell the truth and lie all at the same time.

“Oh, really?” Her brows lifted. “Friend or foe?”

“Excuse me?” I kept my expression casual and hoped that my naturally pale skin wasn’t flushing.

“It’s just that I know Tyler didn’t bring a date, and if you’re not one of Angie’s or Evan’s guests …”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I took a chance,” I said, once again relying on total honesty. “I think he’ll want to see me.” Okay, that part I wasn’t nearly as sure about.

“Listen, I don’t mean to sound like a bitch, but Tyler’s a pretty private guy who attracts a lot of female attention.” She shrugged. “You wanna tell me why you think he’ll want to see you?”

“Not really, no.”

She looked at me hard, obviously taking my measure. Then she snagged a glass of wine off a passing waiter’s tray and took a long swallow “All right then. Let’s go find him.”

“I’ve been trying to do that all evening,” I said wryly.

“He arrived just before I came over to politely inquire about your intentions. Hang on,” she said as she lifted herself up onto her toes and waved across the room. “I see him.”

I craned my neck, but as I was a good three inches shorter than Kat, I had absolutely no idea if she’d managed to catch his eye.

Time dragged, and I was beginning to think that he either hadn’t seen her or had chosen to ignore her, when I saw the glint of gold as the light struck his hair. He wore a charcoal gray suit, and the fine lines and expensive material contrasted with the slightly mussed hair that he wore just a little too long for the corporate rule book. Now, it was tied back in a manner that highlighted the sharp angles of his cheeks and jawline.

His cerulean eyes were the perfect contrast to the golden blond hair, conjuring thoughts of sun and sand, wild days and wicked nights. All in all he had a devil-may-care look about him, and that was only accentuated by the beard stubble. My fingers twitched, and to my horror, I found myself wanting to reach out and stroke his cheek, letting the roughness there smooth away my hard edges like sandpaper.

He eased around the fountain and jockeyed through the crowd with the kind of confidence that comes from knowing that people will move out of your way because you’re just that cool.

“Tyler!” Kat called again, and I had the unreasonable urge to clamp my hand over her mouth. This was the guy I’d come here to get close to, but right then, I didn’t feel prepared at all.

I’d known before coming tonight that Tyler Sharp was among the finest of male specimens, but never in a million years would I have anticipated my own tingling, visceral reaction to the man.

I wanted to duck behind the pillar. I wanted to bolt. I wanted to find some sanctuary until I could get my head together and find my center. But that wasn’t an option. He’d seen us, and though he nodded to Kat, I was the one who drew his focus. His eyes met mine, and the impact of that simple look ripped through me in a way that left me weak and confused. I’d never met Tyler Sharp—had seen him only in photographs, learned about him only from articles and from chatting up cops. But in that moment it felt as though I’d known him all my life.

I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the feeling—or perhaps I just liked it too much.

He stopped in front of us, and I told myself to get it together. I was not the kind of woman who lost her cool around a gorgeous man. Or, at least, I hadn’t been two minutes ago.

As he looked at me, his sensual mouth curved up in the manner of a man about to sample something delicious—and the something was me. I shivered, the unexpected thought making my body tingle in a way that caught me off guard, but that I couldn’t deny liking.

It took one hell of an effort, but I straightened my shoulders and met his eyes coolly, determined to take back at least a modicum of control.

“Sloane was looking for you,” Kat said. “She says you’ll want to talk to her.”

“Does she?” His attention stayed full on my face, and I thought for a moment that if I stepped closer, I would drown in those liquid eyes. “Funny,” he said. “She’s just the woman I want, too.”

She’s just the woman I want, too.

His words wrapped around me, as enticing as a caress, and the control I’d been clutching scattered like so much dandelion fluff.

That moment of weakness passed quickly, though, shoved aside by years of police training and the deeply ingrained cynicism I’d lived with since childhood. Tyler Sharp was a con man and a womanizer and who knew what else. He knew how to flatter. How to entice. How to make a woman feel special and interesting and, yeah, just a little turned on. But no way had he really been looking for me. He’d been out of town for weeks, and I knew that he’d returned only this afternoon. So, no. I wasn’t on his radar.

I told myself that was a good thing. If Tyler Sharp was going to be looking at me, I wanted him to see only what I was willing to reveal.

As if in answer to my thoughts, he glanced down, then drew his gaze over me, starting at my newly-painted pink toenails and moving so slowly up my body that it took all my willpower not to shiver. When his eyes once again reached mine, I almost gasped at the wicked fire I saw beneath the fierce arctic blue. A wild, penetrating flame that had the power to burn away my cover and leave me naked, all my secrets fully exposed to this man.

The thought should have angered me. At the very least, it should have worried me.

Instead, it excited me.

You’re off your game, Sloane. Walk away. Just walk away, get your bearings, and kick off the op tomorrow.

Good advice, actually. And why wouldn’t it be? I was a damn good cop, after all.

Apparently I was also a damn fool, because I had no intention of walking away. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was sticking because of the mission or the man, but I told myself it didn’t matter. That the little trill of sensual pleasure I felt low in my belly wasn’t a weakness—it was an asset. This was a seduction, after all. A little sizzle and pop between us would only make the job easier. And a lot of sizzle and pop would make it a hell of a lot more fun.