Chapter 5
DIMITRI
The loud thump of the club music and flashing lights were giving me a fucking headache. Just as I took another sip of my vodka, the hairs on my arm stood straight up. Without turning my head, I knew that her eyes were on me again.
My stomach churned with unease.
“Max.”
I spoke just loudly enough for him to hear over the noise, making sure to speak in an Irish accent in case anyone was listening. He was eyeing a group of women across the room, but tore his gaze away and cocked an eyebrow as he leaned towards me.
“The woman by the bar.” I spoke the words through clenched teeth.
The club was busy, even for a Friday, filled with rich socialites and businessmen circling each other like some archaic mating ritual.
I didn’t want to be here. Maxim had blackmailed me, promising he would handle Monday’s meeting with our European rare gem supplier if I went with him to the club.
When I asked why he cared—since he would inevitably ditch me for a swarm of women minutes after entering—he said getting laid was the only way for me to get the giant stick out of my ass.
I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t killed him yet.
“The sexy brown-haired beauty?” he asked.
Anger flared in my chest at the interest in his eyes. “I saw her at the café across the street this morning. She was watching me, and now she’s here.” My firm belief that there were no coincidences had kept me alive many times over.
“She could be with the Morozovs,” I continued, voice low, naming a group of Russian jewelry smugglers who were trying to steal our clients. “Or something darker. A spy? Assassin?” I had no shortage of enemies around the world from the decade I’d spent as my father’s enforcer.
Maxim snorted. “An assassin? I’m pretty sure she wants to get you alone, but not to kill you.”
My jaw clenched. Maxim was used to women constantly flirting with him, with his charming smile and flattering words, but they knew instinctively to avoid me. Even as I sat here, dressed in a plain black suit like all the other men, women sensed the danger I radiated and stayed away.
No. Something was going on with this woman.
“Well, you won’t have to wait for long to figure out her motives.”
I followed Maxim’s gaze to see the woman heading my way. Her low-cut red dress ended above her knees, vibrant against her olive skin. Heads turned to get a look at her—she was all lush curves, swinging hips, and long, dark hair brushing her breasts—but her full focus was on me.
My heart thumped inside my chest, and my fingers curled around the cold metal of the handgun at my waistband.
This club was popular with members of various organized crime syndicates, black market sellers, and the ultra wealthy who craved excitement in their dull lives, but there was a strict no-violence policy inside the walls.
A rule I wouldn’t hesitate to break if this woman posed a threat.
She slid into the chair in front of me. Up close, she was even more stunning.
Her bangs framed dark brown eyes, which seemed to sparkle in the dimly lit room.
Probably a spy. Her beauty was like a shining beacon, begging everyone to pay attention.
Assassins needed to blend in, but any man would be desperate to spill their darkest secrets to this siren.
She leaned forward over the table, and her breasts strained against her low neckline. “Hi.”
“Hello, gorgeous,” Maxim said, sporting his over-the-top Irish accent. “What have we done to deserve such beautiful company?”
Her smile was captivating. “It must be how pretty you look sitting there.”
A growl rumbled low in my throat. “What do you want?”
Once her eyes were back on me, my shoulders relaxed.
“A drink and a dance, in that order.” She held my gaze with steady confidence and something strange jolted in my chest. When was the last time anyone besides Maxim looked at me like that?
My cock twitched.
“I’m crushed you would choose him over me.” Maxim frowned and crossed his arms, but it was all for show. Delighted amusement practically radiated off the bastard.
The woman’s mouth curved into another dangerous smile.
“I think you’ll recover.” She turned back to me.
“So, are you going to get me a drink? Or will I have to get one myself?” Her lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout.
It made me want to roll my eyes, spank her, and give her whatever she wanted all at once.
I signaled the waiter with a raised finger. “A vodka for me and the lady’s order.”
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “A Negroni, please.”
The waiter left, and silence stretched between us. She fidgeted with the ends of her hair, the movement betraying her anxiety. Maybe she wasn’t as na?ve as I’d thought. Although, she was still here, toying with me when she should be running away.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
I grunted, and it only widened her smile.
“This is Declan,” Maxim said.
I narrowed my eyes, but he was unrepentant.
She cocked her head. “An Irishman. What are you doing in Paris?”
“Business trip.”
The waiter dropped off our drinks, and while the woman was distracted, Maxim elbowed my side sharply. “If this is your flirting, no wonder you haven’t been laid in decades.”
“Fuck off.”
He laughed and extended his hand to the woman. “Good luck with this one, madam.” He kissed the back of her hand before sauntering off.
She took a sip of her drink, her tongue flitting out to catch a drop of alcohol that escaped the rim. I shifted in my chair, my pants growing unbearably tight.
“What’s your name?” I kept my tone bored, my expression blank with disinterest, but she still brightened at my question.
“I’m Emma.”
She sounded American. Definitely not from here. “What are you doing in Paris?”
“Just vacationing. Looking for an adventure.”
She took another sip, keeping her eyes fixed on my face as she did. The intensity of it stirred something inside me that had been dormant for a long time. Interest. Desire.
My mind raced through different scenarios. The world’s deadliest fighters were no match for me, and I wasn’t so led by my cock that I would spill my secrets to her…And while it certainly hadn’t been decades since I last fucked, it had been a long time.
I threw back my vodka. Her eyes lingered on my lips.
“And what kind of adventure do you want?”
“The kind that starts with a dance.” Emma extended her hand.
I went through life with as little human touch as possible.
Touch was dangerous. Once my mama was gone, there was no one left to offer me gentleness.
When I was younger and still believed in the future, I’d had a few girlfriends.
But as the years went on and my torture intensified, I stopped being able to tolerate anyone’s hands on me.
I occasionally fucked women, making sure our bodies touched as little as possible.
But this? Taking her offered hand to step onto the packed dance floor?
It was a nightmare of an idea, one that could expose my weakness.
But her teasing smile and cocked eyebrow were pure challenge. I couldn’t back down and, for some unknowable reason, I didn’t want to.
I steeled myself before taking her hand, but the feel of her soft skin against my palm didn’t send shivers of disgust through me. When we both stood, I realized how much taller I was than her. She barely reached my shoulder and her hand was tiny in mine.
The crowd parted like the sea as we headed to the dance floor. My muscles were tense, my face impassive, while I waited for the moment my body would reject her touch, but it never came.
Emma pulled me to the middle of the floor with a smile. The music’s beat vibrated through my body, strumming in time with my pounding heart.
We faced each other. My fingers flexed. What would it be like to really touch her?
She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I swallowed.
Instinctively, my hands went to her waist. Pulsing energy built inside me, something that felt like hunger.
My fingertips dug into the soft curves of her hips as I pulled her body flush with mine.
There was no space between us, just the mixed heat of our bodies.
The music meant we couldn’t talk, but I was beyond words, completely enthralled by her.
Maybe Emma really was a siren, but as the flashing club lights cast a halo around her hair, catching on previously hidden strands of gold, I couldn’t find it in myself to care about being drawn into her watery ocean prison.
She tilted her head back, her teeth digging into her pouty red lips. I swayed closer, my nose skimming down the side of her face. Her soft whimper lit me up from within, and I tightened my hold. Our lips hovered close, almost touching as we shared breaths. Everyone around us faded away.
The pulsing music which had been grating minutes ago turned into something deep and sensual. Our hips swayed together, and my hard cock ground against her hot little pussy. Her lips parted with a gasp.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I twisted my fingers in her hair and tugged, holding her where I wanted her while I crashed my lips against hers.
She was soft, almost timid at first, but quickly grew bolder—hand cupping the back of my neck, teeth nipping my lower lip.
Her tongue ran sensuously along mine. It was intoxicating.
I broke our kiss with a curse, breathing heavily at the realization that I had, even for just a few moments, let my guard down in a room filled with untrustworthy snakes. I tightened my hold on Emma’s waist while I scanned the room for signs of danger, but my internal alarms were quiet.
I should leave and go back to the hotel and drown myself in enough vodka to fall asleep. But I was surprised to find that wasn’t what I wanted.
I hadn’t known I was capable of wanting anymore.
Emma’s eyes were wide as I took her hand in mine, pulled her off the dance floor, and headed down the back hallway.
“Where are we going?” she asked, breathless.