Page 6 of Innocently Captured By the Bratva

”My work. It keeps me busy,” I shrug. “Never had much time to indulge in a love life.”

”Well,” he shrugs back. “It’s not too late. You’re young.”

I watch him closely and sip my wine. “I am,” I say, watching as the waiter lays down the salmon tart. Mark leans forward and puts one on my plate before serving myself. That’s when I notice the little grey on his stubble, the crinkles around his eyes.

He’s handsome, but definitely has a decade more in life experience.

”What about you?” I ask. “You’ve found love?”

”Trying to buy yourself a new client, are you?” He breaks into the most heartbreaking grin.

He leans back, laughter dancing in his eyes as I blush furiously at the thought of setting him up with someone else. For some reason, that idea seems odd.

”Hey, it doesn't hurt to ask,” I laugh, poking at the salmon tart on my plate. When I look up to meet his gaze, his eyes are locked right on me, as though he’s trying to see right through me.

”To answer your question,” he says as he looks at me intently, “I wasn’t lying earlier. I haven’t found the right woman.”

To my surprise, he reaches over and gently caresses the back of my hand. I look up in shock, trying to pull back, but he only holds on to it tighter and whispers through a smile. “Charlie’s watching.”

I keep my gaze on him, trusting him, and tilt my head, giving him the sweetest smile ever. “Thanks.”

He takes my hand to his lips, gives it a small kiss, before setting it down. My skin burns from the contact, and my heart races like a girl way in over her head.

This is all a show, Quinn,I tell myself. From the corner of my eye, I see Charlie head to the bar for another drink.

”He’s not looking anymore,” I say, and pull my hand away from him.

Mark frowns and leans forward to whisper conspiratorially. “You have no idea who you're dealing with, Quinn. Charlie's not just some wealthy client. He's dangerous.”

I lean forward, meeting his gaze head-on. “I know, but I can handle it.”

But he chooses to be unrelenting. “This line of work you do. It doesn’t seem safe.”

”My clients are perfect gentlemen, and I can handle myself,” I say, annoyed by this assumption he’s making. I’m running a matchmaking service, for god’s sake. Not peddling drugs!

”Ah, but you forget, I'm the one saving your pretty neck from Charlie's less-than-gentlemanly intentions.” His voice is low and teasing, yet there's steel underneath. “Surely, you can hire someone else to handle these meetings?”

Just then, Charlie wanders by the table, observing us from a distance.

”Tonight was a one-off and it doesn't give you the right to question how I run my business.” My hushed tone is sharp as a knife, even though it slices through a grin.

”Of course not,” he concedes with mock sincerity. “You handle your affairs so... adeptly.”

”Mark.” I glare at him, knowing this was an underhanded comment regarding the situation we find ourselves in now.

”Quinn.” He mirrors my tone, the corner of his mouth twitching.

The act is back on, and we're suddenly the picture-perfect couple to anyone looking our way. His hand finds mine across the table, his fingers intertwining with a possessive strength that sends a slow, delectable shiver down my spine.

“Smile, Darling,” he murmurs with a wink, as if we're sharing an intimate joke.

“Like this?” I bat my lashes exaggeratedly and flash an exaggerated fake smile, hoping it looks genuine from a distance.

”Perfect,” he deadpans. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Next thing I know, you’ll be asking for a kiss,” I warn under my breath, aware of the eyes skimming over us. “We only need people to think we're together, not that we're about to elope.”

“Wouldn't dream of either,” he jokes back.

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