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“No,” I whisper, devoid of emotion.
“I guess we're all done here then.” He reaches over to shake hands with Charlie, his chair creaking under his weight. “It's good to see you again, my friend.”
Nodding once, Charlie stands and fixes the hem of his t-shirt over his jeans. He's really tall—I'd say at least six foot two—and he's bigger than I thought: broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and hard muscles stretching under dark, olive skin. He looks like a Spanish soldier.
“If you’re heading back to London, Blaire-” my name rolls off his tongue like satin, “-I'll get a lift with you.”
What?
My heart does this weird doubling over thing.
I whip my eyes from Charlie to Maksim, who strangely nods. “You will have to forgive my little pet's attitude, as I am sure you will learn she has.” Maksim chuckles under his breath. “She's as arrogant as a redhead comes.”
Charlie laughs too, clearly amused. “I can handle one small girl, no matter how arrogant she might be. Don't worry about that.”
My stomach is sinking with anxiety. This is a test. It has to be. Maksim would never leave me alone with another man.
Maksim tells me that I have to be polite to Charlie, that I'm not allowed to fight him. It isn't a request. It's an order. “You can speak to him, also, just not about me.”
“Of course,” I say, head-bowing to my master, hiding the fact that my anxiety is going through the roof.
I’m not allowed to fight him? What,ever?
2
After bidding Maksim goodnight, I lead the way out of the club. Charlie isn't far behind—I can feel his distance on my shadow—but he's far enough for me to have a sense of mental space.
The club is still booming with music and heaving in perverted old men tossing money about. They're chanting over the music, “Take it off! Take it off!” because the girls are still performing on the stage, naked breasts and asses jiggling all over the place. I'm surprised Charlie doesn't want to stay and have a nice European girl for himself. Any normal man would stay.
At the exit doors, I nod to bid the doorman goodbye and steal out into the cold night, beneath a cloaking black sky sparkling in stars.My silver Porsche is parked under a flickering streetlight at the end of the car park. I open it using the key in my pocket. It flashes three times with a low, deep beep.
“This is a nice car for such a young girl,” Charlie says, walking past me to open the driver's door. He rests his forearm on the top of the door and looks down on me, his head slightly cocked. “Did Maksim buy it for you or did you buy it for yourself?”
Maksim?That is so disrespectful. It's Maksim-Markov to those considered friends or work acquaintances.
“Do you want to drive or something?”
Charlie tips his head to the other side, his eyes glancing back and forth between mine. “Why'd you ask that?”
I gesture at my car. “You are holding my door open.”
He laughs under his breath, flashing even white teeth. “Tis' called manners, Blaire.”
I screw up my face. Holding my door open is considered manners?
“In you get.” He nods at my car, amusement glittering in his eyes.
My neck arched back, I stare at him, baffled to say the least. He looks a bit different up close, more... I don't know. Beautiful? No. Handsome. He's too masculine to be beautiful. His lips are perfect, the lower fuller than the top, his cheekbones are sharp and high, and his eyes are deep set, a lagoon blue in this light.
“Do you want me to drive?” He nods at my car again without breaking eye contact. “I can if you want me to. I know where you live.”
I scoff at the audacity of him, sink down into the plush leather and yank my door shut. He's laughing as he walks around to the passenger side, I'm guessing at me. I don't get what he finds so funny.
Pressing the power button, I fire-up the purring engine. My entire body vibrates as I rev to warm-up my pride and joy.
Charlie settles in the passenger seat, the leather creaking under his weight. He smells sweet and musky—a weird scent for a man but bizarrely appealing.
I peer at him from the corner of my eye. He's too big for my car; has to adjust the seat by sliding it back to give his long legs some room.
