AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She has a fucking nerve.
Elsa Dove. Another woman with a nerve. Except, this one I don’t adore. Wouldn’t kill for. But, actually, want to kill.
But . . . can’t do that.
So I lick my lips, and Elsa Dove’s eyes follow the journey of my tongue from one side to the other. Then my glass to my mouth. I burn holes into her with my cold stare that I’ve no doubt is loaded with heat.
Touch me.
Her hand finds my knee again.
For approximately a second.
She yelps as Rose yanks her from her stool by her perfectly styled hair, tossing her to the floor, removing the imposter from my personal space. I keep my drink at my lips as I watch Rose sink her six-inch stiletto into Elsa’s side. Jesus. But before she dives on Elsa and starts throwing punches, I move fast and grab her around the waist, pulling her back. She’s still delicate. And if Elsa hasn’t got the message, I’ll happily reinforce it with a gun to her head.
“Get the hell off me,” Rose screams, going ballistic in my hold, trying to pry my hands from around her waist. “Danny!”
“Shut the fuck up, Rose.” I look at Elsa on the floor. She’s in a state of shock, scrambling to her feet, embarrassment rife. “Meet my wife,” I say, holding on to Rose a little tighter. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Ms. Dove, and I don’t recommend coming back.”
She frantically grabs her handbag off the bar, while Rose fights like a wild animal to get free. Elsa is understandably alarmed.
“I’m not going to be able to hold her forever,” I say, smiling sickly.
She’s gone like a shot, and I release Rose when I deem it safe, fully aware that I’m about to cop a load of her crazy. I lean back, just swerving her slap, and grab her wrist, yanking her into me, my face up in hers. I expected it, yes. Doesn’t dull the rage, though. “Don’t you ever fucking run away from me again, do you hear me?” I roar.
“Danny,” Brad says, bravely moving in, a hand on my shoulder.
“Get the fuck off me.” I release Rose, and she shoves me away, going to the bar and demanding wine. Mason looks at me. I shake my head. Not a fucking chance.
“Get me a fucking drink!” she screams.
“Calm the hell down,” I warn, trying to heed my own advice. I could fucking burst. Again. I know what she’s doing now, her behavior—it’s fear, nothing more, nothing less. She’s mad with me, I get it, but I am backed into a corner here, and I do not need her rabid temper coming at me.
“Fuck off.” Rose lowers to a stool, looking exhausted. I’m with her. “Who was that?”
“We should take this to the office.”
“Fine.” She’s up off her stool and marching through the club, arse swaying, boobs bouncing, hair swishing. Every man eyes her. God help any of them if they try their luck. God help Rose if she goads them.
She doesn’t, but she looks back at me, and her eyes . . .
Fuck.
I see the same heat I saw when we met. The fear. The hatred. The desperation. Everything around me drops into slow motion, as I study my wife’s long, slow strides toward the office, her head turning slowly back away from me. My feet start to move without instruction, and I follow her, people parting to let me through.
My trousers getting tighter.
And tighter.
My pulse pounding.
I make it to the office downstairs and find her standing in the middle of the room. If she stops me right now, I’ll fucking cry. “Who was she?” she asks as I close the door.
“Elsa Dove. Owns the Pink Flamingo. She told Brad she had information we would want. Turns out she was trying to get into my trousers and expected protection in return for blowing my mind in bed. She would have had Brad before I got here. I told her I was married. I told her I love my wife. She didn’t care. I put a text in to Higham to find out what he knows about her. The FBI have connected her to the Russians. I expect Sandy’s protecting her and he’s sent her in to try and seduce me. Get information. I don’t know. I wanted to kill her. Couldn’t. You could.” I raise my eyebrows. “That’s everything.” I step forward. “Now I want to fuck my wife and reinforce a few things.” Another step.
Her shoulders roll back. Her skin lights up. “Like what?”
“Like I’d rather cut my dick off than let another woman near it.” I reach her and tug her close, looking down at her. “Get on the desk and open your legs.”
