Aliza took the proffered roses with a sardonic smile.
“I’d rather have something less prosaic. But these will do. I suppose they have no smell.” She bent her head, sniffed, and then fetched a vase from the top of a mirrored cupboard. Aliza kept a wary eye on her dinner guest as he kept one hand behind his back. She wondered if something more was forthcoming. She hoped there was. To be honest, Aliza was disappointed in the roses. Red roses at that. So predictable.
He smiled at her in the mirror, one brow arching up in that knowing way he had.
“They are what I thought I’d better bring, so my real gift wouldn’t seem so…” he hesitated, “odd, perhaps?”
Aliza filled the vase with water in the kitchen and took her time arranging each stem. “Odd? You have intrigued me, Miguel.”
“Good. I like to keep my women guessing.” Miguel’s voice took on a deep caramel tone. “Come here, I think you’ll like it.”
Aliza approached and ran her hand up Miguel’s chest.
Miguel brought his hand around and gently stroked Aliza’s cheek with the barrel of the gun.
“Ah,” murmured Aliza, “Much better. Miguel, you are improving.” She slid her hand gently over his, taking the gun.
Miguel watched as Aliza checked the gun, emitting gasps of pleasure.
“I have a little something extra for you.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a slim-line holster. “This should fit under your dress at the base of your spine. It could imitate a microphone battery.”
Aliza broke into a smile. “Miguel, you are spoiling me.” She left and returned suited up. “Let’s eat now. We have so little time before the concert begins.”
Later, Miguel and Aliza mingled with the crowd, security passes hanging around their necks.