Page 7 of Innocently Captured By the Bratva

I roll my eyes and glance around the room, only to see Charlie turning his back on us. I can tell he’s getting ready to leave. He hands the waiter some bills, shoots us one last angry look, and walks out of the bar, slamming the door shut behind him.

Mark’s hand, however, still lingers on mine. I turn to face him and find him fixated on my face.

“He’s gone,” I say.

”What?” he asks, as though he were lost in some thought.

“Charlie. He’s gone,” I say again.

He nods, his eyes clearing, and slowly pulls back his hand before reaching for the wine.

There are a few brief seconds of silence between us, creating a lingering tension.

“I think we should ask for the check,” I finally say, realizing there’s no reason for us to continue sitting here together.

”The night doesn’t have to end quite yet,” he suggests slowly, testing the waters.

I tense, my mind racing as I try to figure out his angle. Is he simply bored? Or is it something more?

The idea of something more seems unimaginable. He and I? We have nothing in common. Besides, tonight was an accident, and despite the sparks I likelyimaginedwe felt, this isn’t going to lead anywhere.

Not after what Charlie said—that he’s a love-them-and-leave-them kind of a guy.

“I have an early day tomorrow,” I finally say, even though a wave of disappointment washes over me. Why the hell do I feel like sticking around? The wine has probably gone to my head.

”Of course,” he says, acceding and calling for the check. I reach for my wallet to take out my share, but I feel a sturdy hand over my shoulder.

“I insist,” he says, his eyes blazing fiercely. I try again, but he shakes his head in warning.

I put away my wallet with a nod. “Thank you,” I say softly.

”Anytime,” he says, turning to get the check.

Once done, we both stand. I turn to walk away, only to find him by my side.

“It’s alright,” I say. “I’ve got it from here.”

“I’d rather see you to a cab,” he insists.

I nod, trying to ignore the flicker of what appears to be concern in his stormy blue-gray eyes. We walk side by side toward the door. He holds it open for me, letting me pass.

To my relief, there’s a line of cabs outside without much of a wait.

I turn to him. “So I guess it’s goodbye then,” I say with a smile.

“I guess it is,” he says, andwalksme to the cab.

”Can't believe I owe you one,” I mutter as a parting joke, reaching for the handle of the backseat of the cab. “Just so you know, this doesn't mean I'm signing up for your protection services or anything.”

”Of course not,” he scoffs, taking over and holding the door open with an exaggerated flourish as if I were royalty. “But let's be honest, Quinn, you're not exactly cut out for handling this stuff.”

”Excuse me?” I stop in my tracks. “Just what kind of stuff do you think I deal with? I run a successful business, thank you very much, and I’ve been doing it for two years now. I really don’t need any more of your advice or judgment.”

He smiles in a way that annoys me even more, but his eyes are soft, as if he’s enjoying every moment with me, even in the middle of a god damn argument. “I never doubted your business acumen, Quinn. I was referring to the dangerous situations it might land you in.”

”There’s nothing dangerous about a matchmaking service, for the love of God! I help people find love; that’s all!” I say, somewhat annoyed. I brush past him and hop into the cab,gripping the door. “As I said earlier, tonight was a one-off and I host my meetings in public places for a reason. Stop making up the worst-case scenarios in your head based on the only snapshot you’ve witnessed!”

And with that, I slam the cab door shut and ask my driver to take me back home. Just when I thought he could be redeemable, that arrogant judgment had to show up all over again!

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