AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She noticed no one sat down beside her. There was nothing friendly about any of these guys, but she suspected it wasn’t personal. Her attention drifted back to Serge. He was talking in a low voice to Mick Forster, and they were both riveted to the sparring.
Then Mick said something, and it all happened at once. The blows made real contact. Clementine flinched as the men’s bodies collided. She averted her eyes but the sounds kept coming—fist connecting with bone.
‘Clementine, would you like to wait in the outer office?’ Serge was bending over her, blocking her view of the ring.
She nodded, didn’t argue. She felt embarrassed—and vaguely guilty.
‘What in the hell did you bring her here for?’ said Mick when Serge returned.
Serge felt an uncharacteristic surge of irritation with the older man. ‘My private life isn’t your business, Mick.’
‘She’s a distraction. You need to get your eyeline above her rack and back into the game, boy. A political move against this organisation and stadiums are going to close like mouse traps around the country.’
Serge’s expression remained bland as he said quietly, but with lethal emphasis, ‘If you refer to Clementine’s rack again all conversations are over, Mick—you got it?’
Mick Forster rolled back on his heels. ‘Well, well …’ was all he said. Then, in a lower voice, ‘Do you think she’s up to holding your hand and being photographed at a few charity events?’
Five minutes later Serge emerged. Clementine stood up. ‘Are you done?’
‘We’re moving, kisa.’
It wasn’t the same as being done, but he swept her along and seated in the car she said softly, ‘I’m sorry. You were right. I shouldn’t have come.’
Unexpectedly he pulled her in against him, pressing a kiss to her surprised lips—a gesture of comfort. ‘No, you shouldn’t have come—but that was my fault.’
‘Who was he? The fighter?’
‘Jared Scott. We’re signing him.’
‘Is that good?’
‘I’m counting on it, kisa. We’re throwing a lot of backing behind him.’
‘How does it work? What generates the money besides ticket sales?’
‘Gambling,’ Serge said flatly. ‘That’s all it was initially. But the organisation reached sponsorship size about five years ago. When the boys go into the ring in two weeks’ time here in New York they’ll be covered in logos.’
‘There’s a match coming up?’
‘We call them events. Don’t even ask, kisa.’
Clementine looked away. After her performance in the gym she didn’t feel she could ask.
He didn’t know why, but he felt the urge to reassure her. He’d been struggling with it since she’d sat on that bed wrapped in a towel and looking lost. But his instinct for self-preservation made him hold off. He didn’t want to set up that sort of dynamic in their relationship. But this he could do.
His hand squeezed her thigh and she looked up. ‘It’s pretty daunting for a woman to walk into that environment. You did fine.’
It was disconcerting to realise he had read her thoughts. Yet she was beginning to anticipate his. ‘Am I going to see anything of you during the day?’
‘You know why I needed to come back to New York, kisa. It’s a busy time of year for me.’ Serge endeavoured to keep his tone reasonable. He’d known this question was coming. He got it from every woman he dated. They all wanted time he didn’t have to give.
‘It’s just we’ve only got a week.’
Another predictable response from a woman who was proving anything but. It should have relaxed him. This should be familiar ground. This wasn’t: ‘How about you stay on after the end of the week?’
‘Stay on?’
‘After last night and today, Clementine, I’d be certifiably insane to let you go.’
‘Oh.’ He meant the sex. She was getting the picture.
He noticed she reflexively reached to tug on the locket that wasn’t there.
‘You’re not interested?’ He asked the perfunctory question, but of course she was.
‘I have a job, Serge,’ she said, her voice firmer than before. ‘It was a bit of a cheek taking a week. I don’t know if I could manage another.’
‘Then quit.’
The nonchalance of a billionaire. Did he really think it was that easy for her? Or was it just a case of her job not meaning much to him?
‘I can’t just quit my job. It’s a career, and it’s important to me,’ she spluttered. ‘Besides which I’ve got a flat and a life to finance—not to mention it would look pretty dodgy on my CV.’
