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That could make sense. It doesn’t mean I believe her. Not yet.
“Jealous, are we?” I ask, eyebrow raised.
Her cheeks flush, confirming my half-baked theory. Then she flips the script. “No more jealous than you are right now.”
“I don’t get jealous.”
“Oh, really?” She shrugs. “Then you won’t mind that Rodion asked me out.”
I’ll fucking kill him.
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but he’s not good company.”
“Neither are you,” she retorts. “But here I am. How much worse could he be? I’m sure he wouldn’t risk me getting charged with… what did the manager call it? ‘Public fornication’?”
The thought of Rodion’s hands anywhere near Piper, in public or otherwise, has me teetering on the very edge of my self-control.
“No, but you might become an accessory to murder. I hope you don’t mind him taking out a hit between entrees and dessert.”
Piper’s eyes widen. She wasn’t expecting me to be so forthcoming. Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting it, either.
“Don’t give me those doe eyes,” I scowl. “It’s nothing you don’t already know.”
After a second, she nods. “Yeah. Rodion showed me his tattoos.”
An image flashes in my mind of Rodion pulling his shirt over his head. Of Piper dragging her smooth hands over his body, tracing the tattoo on his inner arm. Of her looking at him the way she just looked at me.
I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him, bring him back to life, and kill him again to make sure of it.
“The one and only time I’ve spoken to him, he showed me how many people he has killed.” Piper’s voice is bitterly sarcastic. “It wasn’t exactly a turn-on.”
The green fire of jealousy dims to burning embers. “Maybe you have some survival instincts after all, Ms. Quinn.”
She gives me a half-smile. “Were you worried about me, Mr. Viktorov?”
My name sounds different on her lips. It’s a seductive roll of syllables. I don’t mind it at all.
I stab my fork into a bite of the cod and eat without tasting it. “I was looking out for myself. I’ve had enough bad press lately. A dead nanny wouldn’t help matters.”
“I’d hate for my death to be an inconvenience for you.” She rolls her eyes and turns back to her plate. “I live to serve.”
“That’s great to hear. Because there’s a reason I brought you to dinner tonight.”
Piper goes perfectly still. Then she looks up at me beneath lowered brows. “I knew it.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Well, I suspected,” she snaps. “There’s a reason I always look for ulterior motives. Usually, there is one.”
“When you’re done playing the sad, manipulated victim, I’d love to get to my point.”
She subtly flips me the bird behind the candles in the center of the table, and I have to force myself not to laugh. She may be afraid of it, but the woman has fire.
“I have a wedding coming up.”
“You’re getting married?” she practically guffaws.
I press a finger to the headache forming between my eyes. “I’ll be aguestat a wedding soon. You will be my plus-one.”
