Steele glanced in the direction Shock was looking. Steele and his men were sitting in a pub called Big Rigg that had heavy wooden tables and a rustic atmosphere. A woman walked toward one of the high tables at the bar where a suited man and a couple were sitting. He recognized the newcomer from the pictures of Craig’s sister that Killer had shown him. They didn’t do her justice. Steele nodded. “That’s the one.” She was stunning. Long, glossy, dark brown hair that was drawn back in an elegant French braid, beautiful big eyes, a pert nose and lips that begged to be kissed. And her body. Damn! Every heart-stopping curve was showcased in her short, snug, black dress. His eyes followed the long, slim line of her torso to the arc of her hips, then down the longest legs he’d ever seen. Slim and shapely, ending in glossy black stilettos studded with rhinestones. How she could walk in those heels—which had to be at least six inches high—he didn’t know, but every man in the bar must be thanking his lucky stars at the sight of her glorious swaying ass.
