Page 62 of Maxim

Forty minutes later, I’m sweaty and gross and ready for another drink. I’m not a huge fan of the next track so I leave Jane and Amanda shaking their asses to the music and head back to the bar.

There are no messages from Max on my phone. He hasn’t messaged me since this morning and I can’t help wondering if he’s OK.

I’m sure he is. I mean, how dangerous can it be to manage luxury hotels? Not that I believe it’s what he does all the time. I’m still convinced there’s a whole lot he’s not telling me, but it doesn’t matter anyway.

Whatever we have going on is just casual.

He’s probably bored of me by now.

I’m just another pretty face in a sea of gorgeous women.

“Negroni,” I yell over the deafening thump of the music. The bartender - a different one this time - nods and starts mixing my drink. When he places it on the polished wood bar, I lift my phone to tap the payment terminal but a large hand stops me. Some cash is handed over and the barman takes it, ignoring me completely.

“What the hell?” I turn to glare at whoever thought it was OK to buy me a drink when I didn’t ask for it, but to my surprise, Max is standing there glowering at me. As usual, he looks sinfully handsome.

The insults I had lined up stick in my throat.

“What? How!” OK, so I’m a little bit drunk. My verbal sparring skills have taken a massive hit thanks to too many Negronis.

He nods at someone I can’t see and then leads me away from the bar, in the direction of the VIP seating area, which I definitely don’t have a pass for.

The man in charge of the velvet rope lets us pass without comment. He’s massive. At least six feet of muscle and an expression so devoid of personality it’s as if a lump of granite grew limbs and pulled on a suit.

Max’s hand sits against my lower back, warm and reassuring. He steers me toward a corner booth overlooking the dance floor. Thanks to her height, I can just about make out Amanda dancing like a crazy woman, but Jane is invisible.

They’re probably wondering where the fuck I am. I stand but Max pulls me back down into his lap.

“My friends…” I manage to say before being overcome by his cologne. God, he smells good.

“They’ll be here in a minute. Kolya is fetching them.”

Sure enough, the girls appear two minutes later, wide-eyed and impressed by our upgrade to the VIP area. At least Jane is. Amanda wears a mutinous expression. She refuses to look at the tall muscular guy standing next to her while he scowls and clenches his fists like he wants to pummel someone into the floor.

It feels like I’m missing something important but the alcohol has befuddled my brain.

“Nat!” Jane yells when she sees me sitting on Max’s lap. She rushes over in her spiked heels and slides into the booth. “Ooh, this is fun! Do we get complimentary drinks up here?”

“Yes, drinks are on me. Order anything you like.” Max grins smugly.

“Champagne?” Her lips curve up and she buzzes with barely contained excitement.

“Of course. Anything.”

“Woo hoo!” She fist-bumps the air and then does a cute little twirl. Kolya doesn’t seem impressed though. He’s too busy staring at Amanda in a suspiciously feral way that suggests he either wants to kill her or fuck her and hasn’t quite decided which one.

Amanda sniffs and tosses her hair, inadvertently hitting him in the face. Then she sits down next to Jane and picks at the sequins on her dress.

I sigh with relief when a server appears. Maybe some expensive alcohol will rescue Amanda’s mood before the evening crashes and burns.

Chapter forty-four

Max

Natalya sits on my lap, refusing to look at me. Her body is relaxed because of the alcohol she’s consumed, but there’s distance between us and I don’t like it. Not at all.

Two large bottles of champagne appear and Natalya watches with amusement as her friend Jane pours us all a glass.

Kolya stands back, checking the room, making sure nobody gets a jump on us. He called in a couple of the guys and they’re downstairs.

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