Prologue

Gentle jazz wandered through the air accompanied by soft conversation in the quaint cocktail bar. New York was so different to the city that she had called home for a number of years; the towering skyscrapers, the people, the businesses. As the bartender placed another Martini in front of her, she considered whether or not she had done the right thing in abandoning her post in DC for a position in a smaller department. She had never been a spontaneous person. Always planning each step in her life with meticulous detail whilst trying to account for any event that may derail her plans or throw a spanner into the works; a trait that she had undoubtedly inherited from her father. Absent-mindedly swirling the olive around her cocktail, she tried to banish the gnawing feeling that manifested in the pit of her stomach. She had no idea what she was doing. A warm voice drew her from her thoughts as it questioned whether the seat beside her was free. Nodding with a brief and uninterested smile, she returned to her glass, watching as the alcohol swashed with fluid motion - reminding her of the ocean.

"You know, I might be wrong but I think you're supposed to drink it."

A subtle smirk crept across her ruby painted lips as she turned to face the man. His voice was low and sultry, warm like the burn of an expensive whiskey. Her blue eyes trailed an expensive black suit paired with a dark blue shirt, coming to rest on blue eyes unlike her own. No, these eyes were much colder but held a warming glint that sparkled in the low lit bar.

"You're a real Einstein." She spoke, her expression passive with a hint of mischief.

His grin was enough to dazzle the less observant of minds as he held out a hand: "Nick Halden."

She scanned him, calculating. After a mere second, and satisfied with her deductions, a smile crossed her face and she took his warm hand in her own: "Clara Martin."

Hours seemed to pass like seconds as they drank and spoke about everything from their jobs to their family. Their dreams and their aspirations. Both finding the other surprisingly easy to confide in and, not to mention, rather easy on the eye.

"So," She paused, ensuring that she would use the correct name, "Nick. Tell me something interesting about yourself."

As his eyes met hers for perhaps the one hundredth time that evening, he was struck again. He couldn't pinpoint the exact detail that tugged at his intrigue; perhaps it was the mysterious glint in her eye that suggested that she knew something that everyone else in the room had yet to figure out. Leaning closer to her, he held her stare, whispering: "I'm an international spy."

Her laugh was melodic as she retorted: "Yes, and I'm the queen of England."

"Well if I had known, I was in the company of royalty…" The bar stool creaked a little as he stood and bowed, earning another laugh from the pretty brunette as she mimicked the royal wave.

The pair smiled brightly at one another, interrupted only by her Martini glass as she raised it to meet her lips, sipping the fourth cocktail of the evening. As she placed it down with a gentle thud, the olive danced in the vodka sea, and her gaze wandered to the couple at the opposite end of the bar.

"I wonder if he knows that she's married." She muttered, nodding towards the pair as her companion raised a curious brow. "There's an indentation on her left ring finger." She explained, sipping her drink as the man beside her followed her stare. "I mean, it that could be that she's recently out of a long term engagement but whenever his attention is diverted, she checks her phone. Her body language shows she's very interested in his company so it's not boredom…perhaps its innocent but she tries to hide it and if it rings she silences it quickly - she has something to hide." A smug smile crossed her expression as she notes his steel blue gaze on her. "The drunk in the corner accidentally barged into her earlier and her hand went to the right hand pocket of her coat, that and the size of the pocket suggests its something small yet very valuable to her. I'm betting its a ring." Shrugging her shoulders, she rested her chin in the left hand as she returned warmed blue eyes to his expression; a cocktail of surprise and intrigue. A thick dark curl fell across his brow as he tilted his head, finally becoming the only physical imperfection that she could find.

"I'm impressed." He smiled, dimples darkening his cheeks as he sipped at a glass of Ketel One on the rocks. "Although, I am sure that simple observation isn't too hard, Sherlock."

Her eyes sparkled as she laughed lightly, drawing him in. Turning around in her seat, she found her next target. As she tapped his arm, he followed her gaze to a bespectacled man sitting in the corner, a scotch to his left as he typed away on a scratched up laptop: "Okay, what about that guy."

"Easy." The man scoffed, "He's a teacher." As the woman beside him raised an eyebrow - still analysing the unsuspecting man, he leant closer to her and added: "Probably something mundane like English Literature."

A strand of her light brunette hair fell from behind her ear as she snapped her attention to him. Inches separated them as she narrowed her eyes: "There is nothing mundane about English literature." A smirk contorted his expression before falling to a smile as his gaze flickered to her lips. So close that he could smell the subtle hint of the perfume she had sprayed a number of hours ago, he slowly reached up to move her hair from her face. Time had seemed to slow, sucking her in until she found the strength to clear her throat softly and lean back. "You're wrong." She spoke softly, causing him to frown until she elaborated, "He is an architect with a passion for guitar…probably acoustic. He has three cats."

"No way."

"Way."

As she grinned, the tension between them dissipated. Determined to prove her wrong, he stood from his seat, straightened his tie and approached the subject of their conversation: "Hi, excuse me." Biting back a laugh, she turned away from the men. "Do we know each other?"

"I don't think so." She heard the stranger reply before she caught the bartender's attention and ordered another.

After a few minutes, Nick returned with a confused and albeit sheepish expression. She turned to meet him with a smirk as he shook his head: "Alright, lets hear it. How did you know?"

"He dated my cousin." She responded nonchalantly as she popped an olive into her mouth and shrugged, leaning back in her chair.

"You cheated!"

"Show me which rule I broke and I will happily hand you the victory."

A smirk toyed at the corner of his mouth as she shrugged again. He had underestimated her. Deemed her to be below him until she had made it clear that she was more than capable of playing him at his own game: "And this is why we need rules!" He exclaimed, eyes sparking with feigned surprise. "How can you live in such anarchy, you heathen."

Her eyes shone like a priceless sapphire as she chuckled, forcing him to grin at her. As they found themselves staring at each other once more, the bartender called out last orders and pulled them back to reality. She blinked slightly, suddenly aware of their proximity and unsure how they had ended up that way.

"I should go." She whispered, pulling back and glancing at her watch. "I start working for my brother-in-law tomorrow and I promised my sister that I would try and make it work."

A gentle smile passed her lips as he handed her a card. As her eyes trailed the number, he spoke: "We should do this again sometime."

"I might just take you up on that." Smiling coyly, she stood. "I had a…not so horrible time." His laugh was bright and warm as it muddled with the soft jazz soundtrack of the bar. "Goodnight, Nick."

Placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, she turned and left him at the bar; his eyes glued to her retreating figure and a genuine smile on his face. The sorrows that he had the intention of drowning in vodka, far from his mind for at least a moment or two.