Page 17
One of his men smirks and asks, “But will he fulfill his big dream, boss?”
“I hope he tells his family he loves them before Monday.”
Suddenly, Rafael turns to me. I correct my mistake. But too late. I’ve poured champagne over the edge of one of the flutes. He tilts his head at me, his upper lip curling. His eyes widen for a moment as if he just realized I was here. “Don’t look so frightened, palomita,” he says in English, then adds in Spanish, “Do you really not understand what I’m saying. I want to slit your throat from ear to ear to give you a second, more beautiful smile?”
I keep my face blank, serene. The kind of face Rafael wishes I had.
He waves a hand. “Clean this mess up.” He adds in Spanish, “Before I make more of a mess.” His men laugh darkly.
Once I’m free of his table, my mind spins. Owen Price, counting… so, their accountant, their bookkeeper? And they’re going to kill him before Monday. That had to be what Rafael meant when he said Owen should tell his family he loves them.
I go to the service station hallway, leaning against the wall, taking a moment to collect myself. That was too close.
“What was that about?”
I almost let out a scream when I look up to see Nikolai standing partially in shadow. He steps forward, his collar open to show his inked chest, his eyes blazing. He moves closer. “What did he say to you?”
“Why do you care?” I snap. “I…” Told you to get rid of him, but that isn’t true. Iris said that. And Nikolai has said he doesn’t know who she is, and it’s best I keep it that way.
“He’s been skirting the line all damn night with the other hostesses.”
“Did you give them one-on-one speeches too?” I ask.
He's breathing hard, moving even closer, bringing his musky scent with him. I’m shocked by how hard I’m breathing too.
“I’m not going to let some jerk treat you badly, Serena. You deserve better than that.”
“You don’t even know me,” I whisper, everything getting hot and close, except the music pumping through the walls. That seems a million miles away.
He grips my arms with surprising softness, then pulls me to him. I press my hands against his solid chest as our lips collide. It’s magnetic, like we can’t fight it. He moans deeply, wrapping his arms around me. I sink into him fully, opening my mouth, finding his tongue.
He pushes me against the wall lightly, his body boxing me in, hard and ready. I feel his groin pushing solidly against me. Everything in me stirs, boiling, wanting this. But I push him back a little.
“No,” I whimper.
“I want to get to know you,” he says, his brushing against mine.
“I… I don’t do that.”
“What, talk?”
“Date.”
“Why?” he asks.
It’s too complicated. It’s too messy. “Just the past.”
“The past,” he says, “can go fuck itself.”
I laugh in that way he provokes, like it comes from the darkest place. “It’s not that simple. I mean, Nikolai… did you even know I have a daughter?”
He barely misses a beat. “I do now.”
“Please.” I push against him again, my hands pressing against his solid pecs.
When he steps back, I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. I’m still hot all over. He looks half feral, on the edge, ready to grab me again.
“How old is she?” he asks finally.
