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Dimitri took it. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”
“Anything for Lake.” Her smile was sultry as she said Lake Benson’s name, making Megan wonder what the history was between the two of them.
With her husky voice and immaculately made up face, Carla was the last person Megan expected to meet when Lake said he had a contact in London who would know about Rudi’s whereabouts. This woman could have been a retired catwalk model. She was elegant, sexy and comfortable in her skin. She waved at the booth.
“Please, take a seat.” She sat back down. “Lake didn’t mention that he was sending me a sexy toy boy,” she said to Dimitri before turning to Megan. “And you, darling, you are just divine. Look at those cheekbones. And that hair. Oh, I’d kill for your hair.”
Megan smiled at the compliment, although the woman had nothing to worry about. Her long hair was dyed Marilyn Monroe blonde and styled in gentle waves to her shoulders.
Megan slid into the booth and Dimitri followed her. She wasn’t sure if it was a protective move, or if he was blocking her escape.
“Lake said you might have something for me.” Dimitri ran his arm along the back of their seat.
He looked perfectly relaxed. A man at ease in his natural habitat, but Megan knew he was aware of every single thing going on in the room beside him.
“Straight to the point. I like it.” Carla smiled seductively before leaning towards them. “I’ll do likewise.” She glanced casually around before she spoke. “Word is Rudi’s coming back to town. He’ll be in his London house by the end of the week.”
Dimitri was no longer pretending to be relaxed. Now he looked like the predator she knew him to be. Ready to pounce. To strike. To decimate. Was it wrong that she thought he looked kind of sexy? Yeah. Probably.
“How good is this info?” Dimitri asked.
“Top notch.” Carla sat back in her seat and stirred her drink with the straw. “They’re getting the house ready for him as we speak. Apparently his mother is turning seventy next week and her son plans to take her to Madame Butterfly after dinner at Gordon Ramsay’s.”
“He has a mother?” Megan blurted. Because—shocking.
Carla smiled at her, clearly amused. “Are you in the business, love?”
Megan looked at Dimitri, but his mind was obviously elsewhere seeing as his jaw was clenched tight enough to break. “You mean, security for hire?”
“No, I mean sex for hire.”
“Oh!” Megan lowered her voice. “No. Are you?”
She nodded. “I run a brothel two streets over. And before you ask, we don’t deal with Abramovich or his organisation. All of my girls are there by choice.” She eyed Megan speculatively. “We’re always looking for new talent. With your looks and that gorgeous accent you’d be an instant hit.”
“Really?”
“The men would be lining up round the block for you. You’d make a mint.”
Megan put her elbow on the table. “How much are we talking?”
“Megan!” Dimitri came out of his vengeance-induced trance.
“What? I’m just asking.” She looked back at Carla. “Give me a ballpark figure.”
Carla started to chuckle. “I like her,” she said to Dimitri. “She’s got spirit.”
“Yeah, that’s one word for it.”
Megan elbowed him in his side. He didn’t even flinch, so she turned her attention back to Carla.
“Would I have to do any really kinky stuff? The thought of dealing with someone who has a foot fetish makes my skin crawl.” It wasn’t like she planned to take her up on the offer, but it didn’t stop her from being curious.
A large hand covered her mouth. “Don’t answer her. Don’t encourage her. Don’t humour her,” were the droll commands.
Megan bit his palm. He jerked his hand away as she frowned up at him. “There’s no harm in being informed.”
Dimitri ignored her. “I need a contact for Rudi. Someone who has access to him and can help me get close enough for a personal meeting with the man.”
