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The only person taking her out of this bar is me.
“Seriously?” A man in the back calls. Lucky for him, I don’t see who it was.
“Seriously,” she yells. “Any man interested? Or woman, I’m not picky. I’m feeling explorative. Help me get over my asshole ex-boss and—”
Rayne has her back to me, so she doesn’t see me coming. I bend low, hook my arms around her thighs, and lift her up and over my shoulder in one movement.
Her words turn into a yelp. “Put me down, Kirill!”
I shake my head. “Not in a million fucking years.”
She pounds on my back and kicks her legs. “Help! Help me!”
A few people dare to look in our direction, but as soon as they catch the expression on my face, they rightly turn away and mind their own business.
Natalia is sitting at the bar, watching us with interest. But even she doesn’t make a move to help her best friend. I make a mental note to give her an additional five percent raise. Employees who mind their business are priceless.
I kick the door open and step out in the evening. The air is thick with moisture off the ocean, the humidity clinging to me like a blanket.
“I can have sex with whoever I want!” Rayne screams into the darkness. “You can’t control me.”
“I can’t? Try walking away, then.”
She squirms and fights, but my hold on her is iron. She isn’t going anywhere.
The sidewalk shifts to sand. My shoes sink into the soft ground an inch with every step, but I keep going.
Rayne perks up. “Kirill, where are you—What are you doing? Where are we?”
I ignore her, her voice swallowed up more and more by the roar of the waves.
“Kirill! Put me down! Right now!”
I drag her off my shoulder. “If you insist.”
Then I throw her straight into the surf.
8
RAYNE
I realize what’s happening as I fly through the air, but I’m still shocked when I hit the water.
The Pacific is cold and hungry tonight. It sucks at me as I thrash around, soaking my clothes instantly. I know there’s no real risk of me drowning in knee-deep surf, but I’m a little drunk and a lot panicked. I flail in the water until I find purchase on the bottom and struggle upright.
“Kirill!” I shriek, but his name comes out in a gargle as another wave crashes over my head. Before I can fall on my ass again, Kirill grabs my arm and holds me upright.
The water is lapping around his calves and now, my damp clothes are soaking through his dark, long-sleeved t-shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind or even notice. He just stares at me, his jaw clenched, his eyes emerald and infuriating.
As soon as I came out of the bathroom and saw him standing on the dance floor instead of Garrett, I knew I was in trouble. Not just because Garrett was gone, but because I didn’t really care.
My heart leapt at the sight of him.
Then it plummeted straight into my stomach.
Yeah, “trouble” doesn’t even begin to cover it.
But I’m not the only one feeling the heat. Whatever complex thing exists between us, it still has a hold on him, too.
