Hook: Exiles of the Realm

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Hook: Exiles of the Realm Page 4

by Adrienne Bell


  “All right. What do you want now?” she asked, keeping her voice low as she stopped in front of him. “Though I’m warning you, try to touch me again, and I’ll make half the kitchen staff run out here and toss your ass in front of a MUNI bus.”

  “Impressive threat.” His brow creased with amused curiosity. “Tell me, what will you make the other half do?”

  “Point and laugh.”

  Little crinkles fanned out from the corner of his eyes as his smile deepened.

  “Then it’s probably good that all I wanted to say was I’m sorry.”

  Mercy pressed her lips together tight. “Really?”

  “Honest,” he said. “My friends and I haven’t seen each other in a while. We drank too much wine, tempers flared, and the situation got out of hand. Unfortunately, you were caught in the middle.”

  “That’s not an excuse.”

  “No,” he said. “Just an explanation. But I am truly sorry.”

  But that was the thing, Mercy wasn’t sure she believed him. The guy was good. She’d give him that. He was charming. He had a way with words. Whether or not he meant a single one of them…well, that was another story.

  Then again, what did it matter? After all, he and his friends were just some random tourists passing through the city. She never had to see him again. Better to just accept his apology and send him on his way. Give her a couple of hours and she’d forget all about him and his dead sexy accent.

  “Thank you,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “I appreciate that.”

  “I’d like to make it up to you.” A devilish twinkle lit up his eyes. “After all, you’re a very beautiful woman, Mercedes.”

  And just like that, Mercy Herrera cursed her charitable heart.

  “Okay, I’m going to stop you right there, buddy,” she said, throwing her hands up. “Whatever you’re planning right now, it’s not going to happen.”

  He cocked his chin to the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The hell he didn’t. This guy wasn’t half as smooth as he thought he was. Mercy had swatted away too many unwanted passes not to recognize a come on a mile away.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just want to compensate you for your trouble,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thick stack of bills.

  Mercy rolled her eyes. He had just started to slide the money from the clip when Mercy reached out and covered his hand, stilling his fingers.

  “Put that away,” she said.

  The expression on his face froze as he looked back up at her. “I thought you made your living from tips.”

  “Sure. Tips I earn waiting tables. Fifteen percent of the tab,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure that I get what you’re trying to buy here, and it’s not for sale.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.

  “You don’t mean a lot of things, do you?”

  “This isn’t exactly going the way I imagined.” His brows pulled together slightly. Open confusion showed on his face, the first honest emotion she’d seen from him.

  “Yeah,” she said with a sharp laugh. “I bet it’s not.”

  With his looks, Mercy had a feeling that the guy was used to women falling all over him. Hell, with that charming smile, he probably didn’t even have to get to the point where he started flashing hundred dollar bills around. Though if that was the kind of action he was looking for, Mercy knew just where to point him.

  “Listen, I need to go on my break,” she said, dropping her voice even lower and leaning into the bar. “But you seem like a nice guy, so I’ll give you a free tip. If you and your friends are feeling lonely, just keep walking down Columbus Avenue and you’ll run into a whole bunch of ladies who will be happy to take all that money off your hands,” she said.

  His eyes sparkled with humor. “You think I’m looking for a prostitute?”

  “I have no idea what you want, buddy.” She shot him her most cynical look. “All I know is that your belly’s already full of the only thing for sale here.”

  Mercy didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grew even wider.

  “Clever,” he said with a laugh sexier than his accent. “I think I might like you, Mercedes.”

  Wow. He thought he might like her. High praise, indeed.

  “The feeling is not mutual,” she shot back.

  “If that’s true why are you still here talking to me?” he asked boldly.

  Mercy’s face fell. Good question…and not one that she had an answer to. She should have blown him off the second he’d tried to impress her by pulling out his money clip. Hell, she should be halfway though a cold chicken tamale right now, watching the minutes of her break tick by.

  But she wasn’t. She was standing here, still staring into those hypnotic crystal eyes, even as her blood pressure spiked with every word he said.

  And it wasn’t just his handsome face or his overconfident smile that held her rapt. Mercy had seen her fair share of pretty faces before—though she had to admit, maybe none quite so handsome as his. There was something different about this guy. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something foreign. Something downright exotic. And there was no denying that, whatever it was, she was attracted to him. He called to her, pulled at her center, like nothing she’d ever known before.

  Not that she was about to lose her head. Oh, hell no. Mercy knew better than that. She didn’t have time for temptation…no matter how alluring. Especially not today. She had too many things to do. Too many people depending on her. Too many responsibilities.

  Just like every other day of her life.

  Not that she was about to let this guy in on anything so personal. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a brow.

  “The real question is why you’re slumming it with me?” she asked. “With that fancy suit and wad of cash—”

  “Don’t forget the charming smile,” he cut in.

  “As if you’d ever let me,” she said. “But the point is, you could land just about any woman in the city. So, why the hell are you wasting your time on me?”

  “Because, like I said before, Mercedes. You’re very beauti—”

  “Spare me,” Mercy cut him off. She leaned forward and jabbed a single finger against his chest. “I’m a totally average-looking stranger who currently reeks of garlic bread. I didn’t even have enough time to blow dry my hair this morning, so I pulled it back into a ponytail wet. Currently, there is nothing beautiful about me, and we both know it.”

  His gaze fell to her hand. Only then did Mercy realize that she was still touching him. Great. She curled her fingers back and quickly crossed her arms again. It was safer that way.

  He slowly lifted his head back up. Frustration shimmered in his eyes. Frustration and something else. Respect?

  No, that couldn’t be it. There was no way in hell this guy felt anything that came close to respect for her.

  “You want to know the truth?” he asked.

  Mercy shrugged. “It’s not as though the lies have been working for you.”

  Another few seconds passed between them before he spoke. Most of the humor left his expression, but the cunning look in his eyes stayed.

  “My friends bet me that I couldn’t get you to go out on a date with me,” he said.

  “Wow.” Mercy’s jaw fell open and stayed there. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting but it wasn’t that. Not the truth. Not the real truth. Because there was no way that was a lie. It was too outlandish. Too ridiculous. Not to mention way too humiliating. “What are you guys? A bunch of overgrown frat boys?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “So what’s the joke?” she asked.

  “No joke,” he said. “Just a simple wager.”

  “Well, it’s a stupid bet,” she said. “And one you’re going to lose, because there is no way in hell I am going out with you.”

  The smile was back, pulling at the corner of his lips. “So you say.”
>
  Mercy’s back teeth ground together at his overconfident smirk. “Well, unlike some people, when I say something, I mean it.”

  “Good to hear,” he said. “I’ve never liked liars.”

  “So says the guy who told me he was just coming inside to pay his bill and apologize.”

  “And catch your fall,” he reminded her. “All of which I did.”

  Mercy let out a frustrated groan. She’d never met a more infuriating man in her life.

  “Well, then I guess that means lunchtime is over,” she said.

  “Does that mean you’re about to introduce me to your friends in the kitchen?” he asked, tilting his head at a cute angle.

  Cute? Dear God, what the hell was she thinking? She needed to get away from this guy before he could work any more of his strange magic on her.

  “I don’t recommend sticking around to find out,” Mercy said, spinning around on her heel and walking away. “Today doesn’t exactly seem to be your lucky day, buddy.”

  “My name is James,” he called after her.

  “I don’t care,” she said over her shoulder as she pushed through the swinging double doors that led to the back of the restaurant.

  And she didn’t. That’s what she told herself as she sat down on the hard plastic chair in the employee area. She only had a couple of minutes left on her break and the last thing she needed was to waste them with thoughts of sparkling blue eyes and enigmatic smiles.

  No, what she needed right now was some food and a little time to clear her thoughts. But no matter how she tried, Mercy couldn’t seem to calm down. And why should she? The man had bet his friends he could take her out on a date. Yeah, she was pretty damn sure that wasn’t all he bet them he could do with her.

  Who the hell did that?

  James, apparently.

  James. The name fit him.

  Not that it mattered. Just like his handsome face and his dead sexy voice didn’t matter. Mercy had other things to worry about. More important things. Like getting through the last couple hours of her shift.

  Mercy drew in a deep breath as she stood. She took a moment to straighten her shirt and apron. She ran a smoothing hand over her hair. If James was a big enough idiot to still be standing at the bar when she went back out on the floor, she wanted to be ready.

  But he wasn’t.

  The long edge of the wooden bar was totally empty when she pushed the double doors open again. He’d had the good sense to take her advice after all.

  Mercy let out a long breath at the sight.

  A relieved breath. That’s right. Relief. That’s what she felt.

  That strange stab in the center of her chest wasn’t disappointment.

  Nope. It couldn’t be. Not at all.

  Chapter Three

  Mercy’s disappointment didn’t last long. It didn’t have the chance.

  She spotted James the moment her bus stopped across from the restaurant the next day. He was seated at the same patio table—book in one hand, glass of wine in the other.

  At least this time he was alone.

  The man might be infuriating as hell, but his friends…well, they were something else entirely. They were downright intimidating. It wasn’t just their size, or the overly intense look in their eyes. They radiated a strange energy. Like nothing Mercy had ever felt before.

  Okay, sure, so did James. But where his energy seemed to pull her closer, theirs pushed her farther away.

  Mercy pulled back her shoulders as she walked across the street, steeling for another fight. She shouldn’t have bothered. James didn’t even glance her way as she walked up the sidewalk.

  Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow watching her. A tingle of awareness swept across the back of her neck like a cool breeze, growing stronger with every step. She bit into her bottom lip at the sensation.

  Mercy sped up and quickly ducked through the door. She headed straight to the employee break room and opened her small locker. She hoisted her heavy bag inside, but it was too jammed with this evening’s school books to fit all the way in. A frustrated groan escaped her lips as she smacked the swinging metal door.

  “I guess I don’t have to ask if you saw that James was back,” Farrah said behind her.

  Mercy’s brows shot up as she spun around. James? Of course the man was already on a first name basis with the staff. Of course.

  “Has he been a pain?” she asked.

  “Not at all.” Farrah shook her head. “Actually, he’s been kinda sweet.”

  “I’m sure he has,” Mercy muttered. “Has he asked about me?”

  “Nope.”

  Well, at least that was something. As stalkers went he wasn’t making a complete nuisance of himself.

  Of course, it was still early.

  “Just tell me I don’t have to work the patio today,” Mercy said.

  “Relax.” Farrah smiled. “You’re on station two.”

  Station two, the back booths. She could deal with that.

  “With any luck it will be a nice, quiet day,” she said.

  For once, luck seemed to be on Mercy’s side. Her tables were friendly enough, the kitchen was running smoothly, and the staff was all in a good mood. Even James didn’t bother her.

  He stuck around for the first half hour of her shift, finishing his pasta and sipping his wine. Mercy knew because she couldn’t seem to help watching him out of the corner of her eye as she moved around the restaurant.

  There wasn’t much to see. He read his book, and sipped his wine. He made Farrah laugh as she cleared his empty plates and cashed out his tab. Then he left.

  He didn’t come inside. He didn’t turn and look for her. He just went on his way.

  Mercy knew she should have breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him disappearing down the street, but instead she just felt that same vague sense of disappointment that she’d had yesterday.

  Except it wasn’t exactly the same. This time it was stronger. Not much, and definitely not strong enough that she would ever admit to it, but undeniably stronger.

  Damn it. What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn’t the type to let people get under her skin. Especially not men. She simply didn’t have the time. There were only so many hours in the day, only so many brain cells to devote to the really important things in life. She couldn’t afford to waste any precious energy on some jerk, no matter how hot his body or how intriguing his accent.

  Mercy kept reminding herself of that fact through the rest of her shift and into her night classes. By the next day, the mantra was cemented in her head. At least, she thought it was, right until she saw James sitting at the same outside table.

  The same thing happened the next day. And the next. Every day, James came to the Ristorante Paradiso for lunch. He always sat on the patio, he never made a fuss, and he always charmed the socks off whoever was assigned to his station.

  And every day Mercy’s curiosity grew.

  She wasn’t proud of the fact. God knew, she’d done her best to ignore the guy, but she couldn’t resist glancing at him more and more. Hell, she walked by the kitchen when his food came up just to see what he’d ordered. She’d even begun daydreaming about his blue eyes in class.

  Daydreaming. She never daydreamed. Ever.

  Something had to give. Because obviously Operation Ignore The Hell Out Of James wasn’t working.

  It looked like it was time to try Plan B.

  Just as soon as she figured out what that might be. Her mind reeled as her shift ended.

  Well, if ignoring him wasn’t working, maybe the direct confrontation would.

  She glanced out the front window and saw James was still out there, finishing his glass of wine. No time like the present to find out.

  Mercy finished up her side work and clocked out in record time. She grabbed her stuff from the locker and steeled her spine as she strode out into the sun. A second later, she stopped at his table. She held her breath as he slowly lifted his head.


  His shimmering blue eyes were just as gorgeous as she’d remembered…as she’d dreamed about. Mercy tried to shake the thought from her head. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, Mercy pulled out the other chair and sat down across from him. He followed her movements. He didn’t seem surprised by the sight of her, just amused, almost as if he was impressed that she’d held out this long.

  “I’m not going out with you,” she said.

  “You’ve made that very clear,” he said. “Please make yourself comfortable. Would you like a glass of wine?”

  Mercy shook her head. “Apparently, I haven’t been clear enough. Or is there some other reason you keep coming back here every day?”

  A playful smile teased the corners of his lips. “Don’t most people eat lunch every day.”

  Mercy glowered at him, unimpressed. “It’s a big city. There are lots of other restaurants.”

  “Is that right?” He arched a brow. “Maybe you’d be willing to show me one of your favorites.”

  “Nice try,” Mercy said. “So, tell me, are you planning on wasting your whole trip trying to win this stupid bet?”

  “My trip?”

  “Yeah.” Mercy’s brows pulled together at his confusion. “Your trip to San Francisco.”

  “Oh, I’m not a tourist.” His smile widened. “I live here.”

  She let out a long breath. “Of course you do.”

  “So, you see, there’s nothing keeping me from coming back to the Paradiso every single day,” he said, leaning forward and grabbing a breadstick out of the basket. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a glass of wine?”

  Mercy blinked. “You really don’t quit, do you?”

  “It’s not a quality I’m known for.” His gaze didn’t leave hers as he bit into the breadstick.

  All right. So much for Plan B.

  Mercy wanted to throw her hands up in frustration. Instead she drew in a deep breath, leaned back in her seat, and tried to come up with something new. Of course, there was always the old toss him in front of a bus tactic.

 

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