Free GirlMostLikelyTo by Barbara Elsborg Page A

the dumbass after he’d lurched away, found out what
was the matter. At least he’d know.
    An image of Tomas and Wren in bed with him almost had him
spitting out another mouthful of beer. Wren pulled the crust off her sandwich
and played with it but didn’t eat anything. Was he making her uncomfortable?
    “What do you do?” she asked.
    “I’m in the antifraud business. I mainly work on the IT
side, but the company handles all sorts of solutions to fraudulent activity.
Areas like disruption and target hardening.”
    She gave him a blank stare.
    “Sorry. I give advice on fraud management, corporate
governance, the tracking of online criminal activity—Christ, I’m boring you.”
    I babble when I’m nervous? Fuck it, I’m never nervous.
    “You’re not boring me. What does target hardening mean?” She
grinned and his cock made a break for freedom.
    He let out a strangled laugh as he shifted his chair closer
to the table to hide the tent in his pants. “It’s basically advice on how to
make a potential target harder to attack or break open. Like making a building
more secure.”
    “Easy. I have the perfect solution. Get rid of all doors and
windows.”
    He chuckled. “Genius. Need a job?”
    “Funny you should say that.” She started to chew her nail
and then dragged her hand from her mouth.
    “Don’t you enjoy what you do?”
    “I don’t hate it but teaching isn’t on my list of the ten
jobs I’d most like in the world. Not that I could actually do any of those
jobs. Not even the chocolate tasting otherwise I’d be the size of a bus.
Instead, I spend my days explaining in slow, steady sentences how to ask inane
things in three languages so students can pass a test at the end of the course
and get some pathetic piece of paper that means absolutely nothing.” She
blushed. “Oops. Forget I said that. Of course the certificate is a valuable
asset to your résumé that employers are sure to…oh crap.”
    She wriggled and he was desperate to kiss her. Christ. What the hell was the matter with him? Just do it. She’d either kiss him
back or slap him and at least he’d know how she felt. He leaned closer and
Wren’s eyes widened. Did she want this as much as him? Was her heart pounding,
her palms sweaty? Just do it. Adam licked his lips.
    “Can I sit with you?” asked a woman in tight black pants and
a pink cowl-necked sweater. She didn’t wait for an answer but put her glass of
wine on the table and pulled over a chair.
    “Hi, Sylvie,” Wren said and sighed.
    Did Wren sound pissed off? He was. The kiss would have to
wait. But it was coming.

Chapter Six
     
    Tomas sat in the pub nursing a pint, bought by Georg from
the English conversation class, thinking it wasn’t enough compensation for
having to listen to the guy ramble on about metal heat treatment. That his
English was appalling made it even worse.
    “When quenching, forbidden to stir because one side fast
cooling, one side slow cooling and metal will turn—bend—screw—twist.” Georg
demonstrated with his hands and Tomas bit back his laugh. Maybe not so
boring.
    “For making item hard on outside can use cyanide. I buy from
Sweden. Very good.”
    Monique sat on Tomas’ other side, her stool as close to his
as the legs would allow it, her arm against his, her foot nudging his while she
drank a glass of champagne bought by Georg. When Georg finally ran out of words
that made sense, Monique took over. She was equally boring, talking about her
papa’s publishing company, her papa’s château, her apartment in Paris and her
precious dog Froufrou, bemoaning she’d not been able to bring the mutt with her
even though he’d fit in her purse.
    When she finished talking about herself, she quizzed Tomas
about where he came from, who his friends were, what he did for a living. He
managed to deflect most of her questions and pretend not to understand others,
but she was like a guided missile. There was something about Monique’s
intensity that