Ten more minutes and all freaking hell would break loose.
Cassie wanted to growl as she braced her palms on the bar where she served as bartender in this crap-hole—the worst undercover assignment she’d ever had.
She scanned the twenty rickety wooden tables surrounding the raised stage in La Femme. Every walk of life in Manhattan was accounted for, from blue-collar workers in jeans and T-shirts to businessmen sporting thousand-dollar Armani suits. Sick bastards. They were all here for the underage girls. She hoped the perverted a-holes went down in flames.
Half a dozen drugged-out teenagers gyrated their scantily clad bodies from center stage, swaying and undulating to the rhythm of music pumping from overhead speakers. The bass boomed full throttle. Glasses on the bar vibrated. Bottles of cheap booze crammed onto rusty metal shelves hummed their own crystalline tune.
Cassie walked a few feet down the narrow aisle behind the bar, her black pumps making sucking noises on the wet, sticky tile. She wasn’t thrilled about wearing the working attire that hugged her so tightly she could hardly breathe. Her clothes barely concealed the body wire microphone nestled between her breasts and the tiny digital recorder taped to the inside of her thigh.
Another glance at her watch.
Six minutes to go.
She took a steadying breath, then grabbed a tray and went around the bar to gather empty glasses and bottles from the tables. Normally, it was the waitresses’ job to collect empties, but the less glass out there during a takedown the better.
After filling her tray, she turned and slammed headfirst into something solid. Glasses and bottles rattled on the tray, nearly sliding to the floor. The customer she’d plowed into gripped her upper arm, steadying her.
“Sorry about that.” She looked up and smiled at the face looming above her. “Thank”—her smile froze—“you.” She recognized him immediately. It was the bearded man she’d seen come in earlier, the one who’d made La Femme’s scumbag owner, Rod Manici, visibly nervous. The guy had gone directly into the back rooms—rooms reserved for private sessions. Apparently he was finished doing whatever perverted things he’d come here for. After years on the job, Cassie automatically took inventory.
Five-ten, a hundred and seventy pounds, dressed casually but neatly in black slacks and a black sweater. His beard didn’t quite match the color of his dark brown hair. She’d bet her ass it was a fake beard. No shock there, lots of men wouldn’t want to be recognized in a dump like this.
“You’re welcome,” he said, still gripping her arms. His voice was smooth, practiced, like a radio talk show host’s. The smile he gave her was pleasant enough, yet it never reached his eyes.
His eyes were an intensely bright gray, striking even, yet something about the man was definitely off. Was it that subtle air of superiority she detected? The way he carried himself, one would think he owned the place. No, that wasn’t it. That’s when Cassie saw it, a vicious, cruel light flickering in those gray depths. Just as quickly, it was gone, slick facade back in place. As if he’d suddenly realized he’d unintentionally exposed his inner demon.
He released her arms and turned, disappearing out the front door and leaving the scent of expensive cologne in his wake. Cassie watched the door slam behind him, her skin still crawling from where he’d touched her. It was more her woman’s intuition talking than cop instinct, yet she was certain of one thing—that man was pure evil. Too bad he wouldn’t be here for the takedown. She’d definitely like to see him in cuffs. That would have knocked that air of superiority straight out of him.
For the remaining few seconds of her illustrious bartending career, Cassie checked her customers’ drinks for the last time. Sweat ran from her neck into the valley between her breasts.
Any moment now, and…

Tee O'Fallon has been a federal agent for twenty-two years, giving her hands-on experience in the field of law enforcement that she combines with her love of romantic suspense. Tee's job affords her the unique opportunity to work with the heroic and sexy men in law enforcement on a daily basis. For Tee, research is the easy part!

Besides reading and writing, Tee loves cooking, gardening, chocolate, lychee martinis, and her Belgian sheepdog.