Her Man Flint Read Free Page A

behind bars. Then, he planned to make good on the debt he owed Adriana, a debt he knew he could never repay.
    An hour later, the plane landed at Dulles. He grabbed his carry-on and took a taxi to the nearest hotel.
    He planned to get a good night’s sleep before his meeting with the senator the following morning. He wanted to be fresh and alert for that face-to-face, especially with so much at stake.
    Once he was checked in, he went up to his room and showered, then laid on the queen-size bed contemplating what the agency could do to stop Hartford and his cronies. Flint had so many friends at DNS that would be put in danger if they were exposed. Adriana at the top. She worried him more than anything else.
    Thinking of her brought back the plans she had for that evening.
    Who are you out with tonight?
    Was he DNS, or some Joe-blow she’d met at the grocery store in the fresh produce aisle checking out melons?
    His blood pressure escalated. No man, as far as he was concerned had a right to check out the ripeness of Adriana, period.
    Flint scowled. What the hell was he thinking?
    “You’re not the jealous type, remember?” Words muttered to the ceiling.
    Adriana had a right to see and do whatever and whoever she wanted.
    His stomach rolled. The thought of her sleeping with someone else made him physically ill. Yet he had no right to feel this way. Not anymore. Still, he couldn’t shake it.
    With his stomach in knots, he picked up his cell phone and punched in her number. If she planned a night of passion, he intended to make damned sure it didn’t happen.
    The phone rang six times before her machine picked up. “I’m not in right now,” her sweet voice crooned. “Leave your name and number and I’ll screw your brains out later,” echoed painfully into Flint’s mind. That wasn’t what the machine actually said, just what he heard.
    What the hell was wrong with him?
    “Leave a message after the beep...” her seductive voice continued.
    ‘Adriana where the hell are you,’ he wanted desperately to say, but instead, hung up.
    He ran his hands roughly through his hair and glanced at his watch. It was ten-thirty her time and she wasn’t home. Where the hell was she? Screwing this guy at his place?
    The thought brought steam rolling from his ears. Flint needed a drink or he’d never be able to sleep.
    In a flash, he threw on a pair of jeans and a light-blue cable knit sweater and took the elevator down to the lobby.
    In the hotel lounge, Flint walked to the bar. He sat on a stool and glanced around. The place was all glass and chrome. Behind the long bar was a mirror that ran the length of the wall, making the room appear larger.
    “What’ll you have?” A stocky man with a goatee asked.
    “Scotch, straight up.”
    The bartender quickly poured his drink and placed it on a napkin in front of him.
    Flint lifted the scotch to his lips and slammed it down.
    He pointed to his glass. “Another.”
    The bartender filled it again and Flint threw him a twenty. He lifted his glass, then spun on his stool to look around the room.
    The back half of the bar was an exact duplicate of the front. Every wall mirrored-glass etched in black and gold.
    Not bad .
    With mild interest, he scoped out the room, finding the place empty except for two half-filled booths in the back.
    One was occupied with two guys, their ties dangling precariously, long since untied, obviously drunk, ogling the occupants in the booth right next to theirs, where three women sat.
    The women looked in his direction, checking him out.
    “Can I buy you a drink?” a husky voice asked from beside him.
    Flint turned his head to find a tall man with curly blonde hair leaning against the bar.
    “I see you’re popular?” The man nodded toward the booth of women.
    “It seems so.” Flint glanced at the women again, two blonde, the other a redhead.
    “The names Ben. What about that drink?”
    Flint spun his stool around and shrugged. “Sure, why not.” He