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“Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Two hundred.” I held his gaze, keeping my voice firm. “Otherwise, I’ll take it elsewhere.”
A glimmer of respect came into his eyes. “A hundred and fifty, cash, and you’ve got a deal.”
“Done.” We shook on it and made the exchange. I ignored the twinge of guilt that came from selling the Balenciaga bag that Maria Ashcroft had purchased for me. The money was more important. Even though the bag was worth far more than what I’d just got for it, the money would still go a long way.
The man disappeared, and I let my shoulders slump in relief. I knew it was risky and stupid to meet someone I didn’t know, especially alone. But a friend of a friend from back home had put me in contact with him, said he’d pay in cash for items, and so far, so good.
I was so absorbed in shoving the cash right into the bottom of my bag, concealing it in an unobtrusive fabric pouch underneath my make-up and deodorant, that I completely missed the large black Lamborghini Urus idling at the kerb. It was only when a throat cleared behind me that I spun around, my eyes shooting between Knox Ashcroft, who was standing right in my personal space with a hard look on his face, and his dad, Anthony Ashcroft, sitting behind the wheel of the Lambo. He was wearing mirrored aviator sunglasses, so I couldn’t see the expression on his face, but his mouth was set in a flat line.
Fuck.
“What are you doing in this part of town, Elena?”
It was the first time that Knox had said my name to me, and it slid off his tongue in a way Ireallyshouldn’t have found hot. Lucky for me, and for him, I wasn’t a slave to my baser urges, and it was easy enough to remember what an asshole he was when he was staring at me suspiciously with that ever-present air of arrogance surrounding him.
Lowering the hood of my hoodie and brushing my hair out of my face, I played dumb, widening my eyes innocently. “I borrowed a bike from the sheds around the back of your house, and I somehow managed to get lost.” Waving my phone at him, I added, “I was just about to check the map to see where I was.”
He stepped closer, all dark and brooding as he folded his arms across his chest, the toe of his shoe prodding at a broken bottle resting on the pavement next to an empty crisp packet. “I don’t believe you.”
“Well, that’s your problem, not mine. What are you doing in this part of town if it’s so repulsive to you?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but this is a shortcut to the house from my dad’s office. Stop deflecting. What are you doing here?”
“Knox! Bring the bike! You, get in the car!” Anthony had clearly had enough of waiting around, and he snapped his fingers at me as if I were a trained dog waiting to do his bidding. No wonder Knox was such an arrogant dickhead with a dad like that.
I slid into the car, and after much shuffling around, Knox managed to get my bike situated. He climbed into the front and glanced across at his dad, communicating without a word. I was struck by how alike they looked in profile.
“Miss Greenwood.”
My gaze shot to the rear-view mirror, where Anthony Ashcroft was watching me, his eyes still hidden behind his sunglasses. There was something in his tone that had me swallowing hard, trying to compose myself. He couldn’t have known what I was really doing out there, surely.
His lips curved into a smirk as he manoeuvred the car back onto the road. “May I call you Elena?”
“Of course,” I managed.
“Good. You may call me Anthony if you wish.” He ignored the sound of protest that Knox made, which made me smile, albeit unwillingly. “We haven’t had a chance to get to know each other yet, and I think it’s time we rectified that, don’t you?”
Remaining silent seemed like my best bet, and he carried on speaking, hardly appearing to notice that I hadn’t answered him. “Maria has the charity dinner tonight. We’ll go to the club.”
“Dad, they’re not going to let her in looking like that. There’s a dress code,” Knox hissed, his lips curling in distaste, probably at the thought of being seen anywhere in public with me.
He hummed thoughtfully as he eyed me through the mirror. “Perhaps not in ordinary circumstances, but she’ll be with us. I’ll call now.” Pressing a button on the dashboard console, he had a short conversation through the tiny headset that I hadn’t noticed he was wearing, and around fifteen minutes later, we were turning off the road and passing a large sign that said Nottswood Golf & Country Club in silver metallic lettering. We stopped in a parking area outside a pretty Cotswold stone manor house-style building, and as we exited the car, Anthony cleared his throat, tilting his head towards me while looking expectantly at Knox. Now he’d removed his sunglasses, I could see his eyes were the same shade of brown as Knox’s, and there was amusement in them as he took in the hard set of Knox’s jaw.
“Knox,” he said softly, and suddenly, there was a warm hand placed at my back. I hid my shock with a cough, or I hoped I did, at least.
Knox pushed me gently forwards as Anthony gave him an approving smile, and again, I had to hide my shock. This was the nicest he’d been to me since the day we’d met. The heat of his palm felt like it was radiating through my body, warming me all over.
When we entered the lobby of the club, Anthony stepped over to the desk, while Knox steered me into a dimly lit corner with two high-backed tan leather armchairs facing each other, a low round table between them. He stopped next to the closest chair and lowered his mouth to my ear.
“Don’t think for one second that your presence here is wanted. I’m playing nice with you for my dad’s sake, but when this is over, you go back to keeping your distance.” His lips brushed my ear, and I suppressed an unwanted shudder.
“Gladly.”
“Good. Oh, and Elena?” His voice lowered into something dark and dangerous. “I don’t believe your story about going out for a bike ride. And neither does my dad. So you’d better tread very fucking carefully, and if I find out that you’ve been up to something, you won’t like the consequences.”
Fuck this guy. I turned my head, our faces so close together that I could see tiny flecks of gold in his dark irises. His long lashes should have softened his gaze, but the way his eyes were reflecting pure hate at me negated their impact. “I’m bored of your threats, Knox. You really aren’t as scary as you seem to think.”
