Page 2 of Robb

He checked his watch: 11:48. More and more people seemed to be cramming onto the yacht somehow, and the deck practically seethed with what Robb could tell was a mixture of humans and shifters, all united in their desire to get shitfaced and have a good time.

Tilting his glass back, he drained the last dregs of his drink – because it was something a drunken partygoer would do, not because he was enjoying it – and wondered if he should try to make his way to one of the other decks. His quarry didn’t seem like the type to skulk around in the darkness when she could be the life of the party, but maybe she was busy turning the cutlery to gold or something.

She was close, though. He couldn’t say how he knew, but it was as if he could sense her presence nearby.

“Great party, huh? If I do say so myself.”

Robb was suddenly very grateful for his sparkly pink YEAR 2000! glasses, if only because they were the only thing standing between his corneas and the umbrella sticking out of his now-empty glass.

Shit, he cursed internally, even as he tried to regain his composure on the outside. It wasn’t like him to get startled on a stake-out – his unflappability was one of his greatest strengths. Certainly he didn’t have a habit of almost jumping out of his skin and smacking himself in the face with his drink when he heard a sudden voice in his ear.

Even if that voice was low and sultry, with a clear undertone of amusement.

“I almost thought you weren’t going to show up,” she continued, and Robb listened to her voice, not turning around, even as his heart pounded in his chest. If he turned around, the spell would be broken, and he’d have to arrest her.

Which he would.

He just wanted to draw the moment out a little, savor the anticipation of completing a job he’d been working on for months. It definitely had nothing to do with a little traitorous part of him that wanted the chase to continue.

Though at this point, which one of us is the cat, and which one is the mouse?

His dingo growled in warning – and Robb couldn’t say he blamed it.

This was getting dangerous. He couldn’t afford to think like this, even for a moment.

He steeled himself. Fun had no part in this. He had to do his job, and arrest her. Discreetly, preferably, though she didn’t seem like the type to go quietly. And he had to admit that he had no idea whether she could turn living flesh into gold. Would she actually kill him, if she felt threatened? He had no idea.

A shiver ran through him, and he squashed it down through sheer force of will.

“Anyway, good job finding me, Robbo,” she went on blithely, and that brought him out of… whatever the hell was going on.

“Don’t call me Robbo,” he snapped, turning around to face her. One part of him – the professional part – was wondering how the hell she’d found out his name. The other part of him – the part he’d barely even been aware of until recently – was noting how she was even more goddamn gorgeous from up close than from the faraway glimpses he’d been getting.

Her deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief, her dark skin almost luminous in the glow of the party lights. An expensive-looking dress hung off her shoulders, seemingly held in place by a few pieces of string and a whole lot of hope, revealing her long, lithe legs. And while Robb had known that she was tall, it was different to see it here in the flesh, especially since she was wearing high heels – she was almost eye level with him, and it was a strange feeling.

The party hat perched jauntily on top of her head and cheap feather boa draped around her neck should have made her look less threatening, but somehow they just added to the overall effect – like she was so confident in herself that she didn’t even care how ridiculous she looked.

Robb swallowed.

“Robs, then,” she said. “Or Robert. I’m fine with either. Or nothing at all.”

Okay, now she’s definitely playing with me, Robb thought, simultaneously pissed off and strangely charmed. He had no idea how she knew anything about him, let alone exactly how to push his buttons, but he had to admit that he was impressed… even as he made a mental note to ask the techies to make sure that none of the Agency’s databases had been breached.

“Tahnee Harris,” he said with a curt nod. Using her full name, just to show her he knew at least as much about her as she apparently did about him. And that he wasn’t going to be so rude as to call her by anything other than her name.

“Great!” she said with a big smile, apparently not at all surprised that he knew who she was. “Now that we’ve made our introductions, we can cut the crap and get on with it.”

“On with what, exactly?” Robb asked, his brow furrowing. He was supposed to be calling the shots here, not her.

“You know. Arresting me,” Tahnee said, holding her hands out with her wrists together and looking at him expectantly. “Since you caught me. You know – Oh no! You got me! And all that.”

Robb stared, words failing him. There was no way she was for real. She’d shown herself to him, after all – she could’ve easily escaped from the yacht if she’d wanted to, and he would’ve been none the wiser. Not that he had any idea what she shifted into, but there were plenty of boats about on the harbor, and it wasn’t like they were way offshore. She wouldn’t have had to swim far.

As if reading his mind, she wrinkled her nose. “I am not about to go swimming in Sydney Harbour, especially at night,” she said. “You caught me fair and square.” She pushed her wrists in his direction again, and Robb stared at them, unable to formulate words.

Was this a deliberate plan on her part? Was she looking to infiltrate the Agency, and then wreak havoc from within?

He had to admit that he wasn’t sure if they could hold her indefinitely – gold handcuffs would be easier to break than steel, and though he knew there were several research groups around the world that were attempting to create cuffs that could change size and shape in order to keep shifters contained even when they changed forms, that technology was still at the prototype stage. If she turned into something enormous, she could easily bust out of a pair of golden cuffs if she wanted to.