Page 21 of My Super Sexy Spy
His name was Ivan. He was Bulgarian. A travel agent checking out various hotels throughout Italy so he could help his clients plan their holidays. So, no international man of mystery, but other than that, he was pretty perfect.
He’d also read my blog.
He had an accent to die for and the most incredible blue eyes I’d ever seen. He drank Scotch neat and he’d remembered I’d been drinking martinis last night, so he’d ordered one for me.
He’d even got the number of olives—three—correct.
He’d soooo been paying attention to me last night.
“Thank you,” I said and smiled, even as I tried not to pay attention to the fact that Ted had also just shown up. He took a seat at one of the tables instead of the bar—I assumed to give me room to work my mojo on Mr. Dangerous, although I supposed I should start calling him Ivan.
And while I was glad Ted didn’t try to intrude, I was still a little put out.
Especially when I saw the tall, busty woman in a red dress walk over to where he was sitting and plop herself, and her C-cups, in the lounge chair across from him.
“And what brings you to Italy?” Ivan asked me.
Focus. Blond. Man bun. Paul Newman blue eyes.
“I’m actually working on a book,” I said. But the truth was something more personal. “Also, I was feeling very trapped in my life and needed an escape. Does that make sense?”
His expression changed then and, for a second, I thought I saw a bit of harshness cross his features.
“Americans are lucky,” he mused as he sipped on his Scotch. “You have the option to have many lives. In Bulgaria not so much.”
My shoulders slumped. “That was probably a really asshole thing to say. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I love my country very much, but I’m not blind to its faults. As I’m sure you are not blind to your own country’s faults.”
“Nope. We’ve got problems no doubt. But you didn’t really want to talk about politics tonight, did you?”
He leaned back on his stool and took another sip. Looking at me, checking out my outfit. I went with all black again and a splash of color around my neck in the form of a funky necklace. This time the outfit was a backless triangular blouse paired with simple black crop pants and stilettos.
I’d pulled my hair into a ponytail after my shower so I didn’t have to deal with blow drying it, so my bangs framed my face. A dark red lipstick and I hoped I was pulling off sexy Goth pixie.
“No, Beth.”
Ugh. The way he said my name. Like it was two syllables instead of one. So hot.
“I didn’t want to talk politics with you tonight,” he continued. “I can think of much more interesting topics we could be discussing. I’m wondering if perhaps your room wouldn’t be a better location for that conversation.”
I gulped. And immediately looked around for Ted. He was still sitting at the small table, only now C-Cups had her legs crossed and I could see she was nudging at his leg with the tip of her shoe.
What the hell? Ted? Of all the guys in the bar she goes for him and immediately starts playing footsies with him under the table. That seemed kind of fast. Mr. Dangerous…I mean, Ivan, and I had done the eye game for hours last night. There was at least build up to him asking me if I wanted to take him back to my room.
“You seem distracted,” Ivan said, looking over his shoulder in the general direction I must have been staring. “Is that man from last night bothering you again?”
No. He wasn’t bothering me. Just because he was leaning forward and touching C-cups on her knee. Why should I be bothered at all?
“Nope. Not even a little bit.”
“Then what do think of my suggestion?”
I thought it was pretty radical. Strange man. Foreign country. Way outside of my comfort zone. Clearly, not someone I could control. Everything I told myself I was ready for.
Pretty sure I wasn’t ready for this.
As an out, I held up my empty glass. “Can’t fly on one wing.”
