Page 30 of Possess Me
“I believe that the Bratva stands for criminal activity. I’m certain you’re very sophisticated about what you do and how you do it.”
“So you think Dmitriyev Enterprises couldn’t have achieved success if we hadn’t committed crimes.”
She folded her arms on the table. “I doubt it.”
“Well, you’ll need to trust me that we are completely legitimate.”
“Trust is very difficult when you don’t know someone.”
“A valid point. Let’s see. How do we change that?” I squeezed both limes into my glass, swirling with my finger. She studied me the entire time, the slight smile on her face almost causing the kind of reaction that could terrify her.
It took every ounce of self-control not to slide my hand around the back of her neck, pulling our lips together.
“Why don’t you tell me about your family, since you think you know all about mine.”
Her face immediately clouded, a moment of sadness dancing in her lovely eyes. “I’d rather not talk about that if you don’t mind.”
“Alright. Since you prefer to keep the mystery about yourself, why don’t you start by asking me questions.” Her eyes had given away a moment of pain.
“I’d like to hear you describe yourself. It’s always very telling when a man describes what he thinks to be true of himself.”
I took another sip of my drink, licking the wetness from my glass. As I did, she pursed her lips. In the brief conversation, I could tell she was very unassuming. She had no idea how beautiful she was or if she did, she wasn’t the kind of woman to use her looks to her advantage.
“Alright. I’m a down-to-earth guy and if I told you that I hate the rich and pompous jerks I often encounter in the clubs, would you believe me?”
“Down to earth,” she countered. “I’d be forced to say you were lying.”
“Now, why is that? So you know, I never lie.”
“I’ll try and keep that in mind. Down to earth means someone who prefers wearing well-worn jeans and a grunge tee shirt instead of Armani suits or billowy silk shirts that are not the best attire for extreme humidity.”
“There’s a compliment somewhere in your words. I assure you that the suit I was wearing was Jos. A. Bank, not Armani. And if you caught a glimpse of my wardrobe, you’d think I was homeless.”
“I highly doubt that, Mr. Dmitriyev. You’re worth billions.”
Chuckling, I could tell she was doing everything in her power to keep me at arm’s length. Good for her. “Yes, I am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t prefer jeans and cowboy boots. For the record. This shirt is made of cotton. I believe so anyway. I admit I didn’t look when I picked it up at T.J. Maxx.”
Her cough was followed by taking a sip of her drink. “You shop at T.J. Maxx?”
“Absolutely. We have one close to where I live.” I was telling her a little white lie, although I had shopped at the store before.
“Something I’d need to see with my own eyes.”
“Perhaps we can make that happen. Maybe I’ll extend your duties, so you return me to Las Vegas.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m otherwise engaged.”
She was quite adorable when she tried to draw a line in the sand. My cock was finding the thin material of my trousers highly uncomfortable. “You’re currently on a leave of absence from your job with American Airlines. Surely, you can take a couple additional days. I’ll pay you double what you’re making.”
Her eyes flashed with both annoyance and clear anger. Plus, a split second of fear. “I’m not for sale, Mr. Dmitriyev. I know you might find that hard to believe, but I have scruples.”
“I wasn’t insinuating you didn’t.”
Sighing, she looked away. “You’re like every other rich man who thinks money talks and that’s all that matters.”
“Don’t make assumptions.”
She took another sip of her wine and I concentrated on the way her tongue swept across the narrow glass rim. “Fair enough.”
