Page 3 of Pucking Snowed In with the Enemy

As he nodded, I released his shoulder and smiled wide as he laughed and smacked the bar.

“Damn…so sorry, man. We are all good. You two take care,” he said, playing off the part much better than I thought he would as he wandered away.

I slowly turned to face Savannah, and she lifted a brow. Up close, she was even more beautiful than from across the bar or in my surveillance photos. Her baby blue eyes showed her intelligence and were full of questions. Her hair was the most unusual reddish blonde I’d ever seen. It even had highlights that hovered on the verge of pink but looked natural. I was pretty sure women called this dark strawberry, but what the fuck did I know. The dusting of freckles across her cheeks gave her an adorable look even though I knew she was a badass and could shoot as well as anyone in my world. The simple black dress said a lot about her personality and why she was in town. It looked smoking hot on her, and I suddenly wanted to pull it up and bend her over.

“Do I want to know what you said to him?”

Leaning on the bar, I smiled a little wider as I lifted my finger and signaled the bartender over. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” I said, and the twitch of her lip told me she at least had a sense of humor despite what she did for a living. “My name is Grigoriy,” I said and held out my hand for her to shake. She was tentative, her movements slow like she thought I might bite. She wasn’t wrong about that. I’d bite into her adorable ass any day. “Would you like a drink?”

“I just turned him down. What makes you think I’ll say yes to you?”

“Because I don’t plan on using it to get into your dress.”

“Is that so?”

“Nope, I don’t need it,” I said and caught the blush before she looked away with a scoff.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she said.

I looked at the bartender who had been serving me since I arrived. “You heard the lady, two White Russians,” I said, loving the irony of the statement. “Do you have a name?”

“Savannah.”

“Beautiful name. What brings you to town, Savannah?”

“Business,” she said as she ran her finger along the edge of her purse. I’d bet my life that she had a gun in there. “What about yourself?”

“Business,” I echoed her answer as I sat down on the stool beside her. “What kind of business are you here for?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really, just making conversation.”

The bartender set the two drinks down, and I knew she was going to have one hell of a headache if she drank too many of these on top of the wine. But if it made her lips looser, who was I to complain? I sipped my drink and waited. Her curiosity would get the better of her. She had an inquisitive mind, and digging for answers was her thing.

“Then tell me, what type of business are you in?” She looked at the tattoos on my hands and then glanced at the one on my neck.

“Would you believe me if I told you, tattoo artist?”

“No,” she pointedly said.

I laughed. “I’m into sales now, but at one point, I planned on playing in the NHL.” Her mouth fell open. “Not the answer you were expecting?”

“Not exactly. So, what happened?”

I took another sip of my drink. “Honestly? I wasn’t good enough. But I play for my college team. I’m a D man,” I said, and she laughed.

“I bet you are. So, you’re still in college?”

“Why? Do I look old?”

“No, no, it’s just…never mind, that was bad judgment on my part. What are you taking?” She leaned her elbow on the bar, placing her head in her hand. The drinks were making her eyes glassy. I had stepped in with the douche not a moment too soon. A loose strand of hair fell across her cheek and I was compelled to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. She bit her lip and my cock stirred. Fuck her lips were delicious and I could easily picture how they would look sliding over my cock.

“I think it’s my turn to ask the next question.” I rubbed my bottom lip as I thought. “How long are you in town for?”

“Not sure yet. Depends on how quickly my business wraps up.” I knew what she was hoping to wrap up, but she wasn’t going to find the answers she was after. The question became, what should I do with her? Killing her was messy, and would be a shame when she was so gorgeous, but letting her continue to snoop around wasn’t an option either.

“Well, I better get to my room, but thank you for the drink,” she said a little while later. It was then that I realized we were the only two left in the hotel restaurant.