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sexual innuendo threw him off. Knowing her adversary’s weaknesses was always a plus. Now if she only had a clue what to do with her newfound knowledge.
    “So I’m told,” she said, lowering her voice just a little, not enough to be obvious but just enough to make him wonder. “And now that we’ve established that, assume nothing and tell me why you’re here.”
    “To learn if you’re the brains behind this operation.” He leaned against her desk, bending over so that his face was closer to hers. His arms were lined with thick, corded muscles that were impossible not to stare at for a moment. His hands were large and his fingers long. When he fisted them and pressed them against the edge of her desk, she felt the piece of furniture lean slightly from his weight.
    “We probably only have a few minutes, darling. Do you run Club Paradise?”
    “Larry Santinos owns Club Paradise and that’s public knowledge if you care to check. Although I’m sure you already know since he’s in the system now.” Maggie didn’t care if an edge of disdain surfaced in her voice. It would be idiotic to sound proud of her uncle’s foolishness.
    “I didn’t ask who owns the club. I asked who runs it. Are you in charge of the books?” He looked pointedly at the ledger and receipts on her desk.
    Maggie would welcome an audit at any time. Although bounty hunters didn’t audit books. “I do the books, yes. Are you with the IRS, too?”
    “Nope. All I’m doing is bringing you in. Although I’m sure the IRS will be involved soon enough.”
    “My books are squeaky-clean.” She straightened, stuck her chin out, and dared him silently to suggest otherwise. Nonetheless, when her heart began pounding against her chest, this time it wasn’t because the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on was leaning over her desk staring down at her. Her father had argued each time he and her mother fought about this that Maggie needed to get away from the club. If her uncle had fucked up, her father didn’t want any of his transgressions affecting Maggie. Up until now, Maggie hadn’t been worried. She hadn’t broken any laws.
    “But you admit that you handle all the books for this place,” Micah said, his tone matter-of-fact.
    His phone buzzed at the same time the buzzer on her desk went off, indicating someone else was entering the club. This time the light on the box by her phone didn’t flash. Someone had come in the front door of the club. Larry didn’t have any appointments. If he did, she would have set them up for him. She glanced at the clock on her wall then shot Micah a side glance as he straightened and pulled his phone free from his belt. He stared at the crucifix on her wall as he tapped his phone’s screen with his long fingers.
    Micah put it back on his belt and gave her an appraising look. “Would you mind coming up front with me, Miss O’Malley?”
    “What’s going on?” Her voice cracked as she asked. She hated sounding scared, but Micah was doing a good job of making her feel that way.
    Everything about Micah stiffened. He stood straighter and no longer appeared relaxed. His expression hardened, and his dark eyes were almost black. Suddenly he terrified her. A sheen of perspiration broke out over her body. Maggie’s shirt clung to her back when she stood. Her legs trembled and she braced herself, pressing her palm to the edge of her desk.
    “Let’s go, Miss O’Malley.”
    “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
    “It would be a lot easier if you come with me of your own accord.”
    She was sure she had to look terrified. “Where?”
    She tugged on her shirt, knowing she offered a fair amount of cleavage. Micah didn’t glance down this time but kept his eyes pinned on hers.
    “If you don’t mind,” he said, gesturing to the door.
    Who had entered the club? They opened in fifteen minutes but usually when Larry got there early, he came straight back to the kitchen, hungry and whining worse than a child.