Page 43 of Take the Sub and Run

Sofie slid off his lap. Instinctively he reached out to stop her, to grab her, and pull her back onto his lap. But he halted, fingers curling into the palm of his outstretched hand.

“I’d like to go home now,” Sofie said quietly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Andrei saw movement as Colette and Landon both got to their feet, watching Sofie.

“Yes.” Andrei rose too, not looking at her as he went and picked her dress up off the floor. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Eleven

The drive to the Jordaan District was quiet and tense. Sofie held perfectly still in the passenger seat, despite her throbbing backside. Beside her, Andrei was like an angry cat—quiet, seemingly calm, but there was tension in him that would have been a lashing tail had he actually been a cat.

Sofie had assumed—hoped—that Landon or Colette would drive her home.

But Landon refused to leave Colette to drive Sofie by himself, and Colette was “in no condition” to sit in a car.

Sofie sympathized with that.

But that meant there was no one to drive her but Andrei. Colette had argued and proposed alternatives until Landon quieted her with a kiss and whispered words.

Leaving Sofie and Andrei to head down to Landon’s rental car in tense silence. A silence that hadn’t changed since.

Time had ceased to exist, or maybe ceased to have meaning, in the club. She’d seen the way the sky lightened over the course of her time with Andrei, but hadn’t really processed the meaning.

Now, they were stuck in Amsterdam’s famous traffic, the city not really meant for cars.

“Is this the best route?” Andrei said, startling her.

She glanced at him, and he motioned to the map on the screen in the car.

“Oh…I think so?”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “Is driving another thing you’ve never done?”

Her face burned with embarrassment so deep it was bordering on shame.

“That’s not unusual,” she said through a tight throat. “There’s no need for a car.”

Some of the tension faded from his arm muscles. “I suppose there isn’t.”

Andrei had gone upstairs to the top floor of the club and returned in a soft sweater and casual pants. Sofie was back in her dress, feeling rumpled and overdressed. She’d forgotten her mask back at Club Alibi, but at this point didn’t care. Before, she’d planned to keep both the dress and mask a memento of her first theft.

Now, she would burn the dress, despite the hours she’d spent on it. The idea of destroying her own art hurt, but there was some comfort in knowing Colette would keep her dress and mask, so at least some of the things she’d created for this ill-fated plan would survive.

They inched through the city, over narrow bridges and cutting down narrower roads.

Andrei made a cold sound of amusement as they passed a sign.

“Isn’t De Wallen the red-light district?”

She raised her chin, hoping she wasn’t blushing. “It’s the medieval part of the city. It’s where Oude Kerk, the oldest building, is.”

They were stopped, so Andrei glanced over, brow raised.

“And it’s the largest of our prostitution district.”

“And you live there.”

“No, I live in the Jordaan District. It’s close, but not the same.”

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