Page 13 of Black Site

This is the type of woman that would make him take notice of her, someone strong and mysterious that can ooze sexuality. All I can think about is Mata Hara when I look at the woman on the stage. She is someone who would be able to keep a man like Jim's attention from straying. "If you like her I could work something out where you could meet her, Archer."

My stomach turns at the thought of Jim saying yes to the big Russian. I sit straight-backed and don't let on that I am disgusted by how easy this man barters out his 'star performer'.

"I'm good."

"Are you sure? We could always talk a one-night trade." The man's eyes run over me again. Normally I would get up to leave putting distance between myself and the douche bag that thinks he can have whatever he wants but I can't do that in this situation. So like before I sit stiffly waiting for what Jim is going to say.

"What did I tell you about looking, Lebedinsky?"

His hand finds my thigh under the table and I jolt a little bit. I wasn't expecting him to touch me. I don't understand why he is. It's not like the Russian can see under the table so why would Jim try to act all...what, territorial? Possessive?

The woman has come off the stage and is slowly dancing around the room. She dances over to where Jim is sitting and bends over backwards so low I think her boobs might fall out of her top. She grins at him before taking a pitcher off the table and pouring it into a waiting glass right in front of him. She reaches for him but he leans out of her reach and looking pissed as hell. I wonder what she sees when she looks at him. What he lets her see? Is he flirting back with her by playing hard to get.

The big man speaks in Russian. I don't think he knows I can understand him. Jim squeezes my thigh and I lean closer to him. I don't really want to tell him what was said but that is one of the reasons I am here after all. "He says she choose you to offer her 'bounty' to. It is a custom that the man accept what is being offered to him."

The Russian laughs when he realizes I can understand him and have translated for Jim. He gets a kick out of the fact I can tell they are talking about Jim spending the night with this woman. I'm not sure if it is because he thinks it will make me jealous but if so he has read the situation all wrong. Jim's eyes slide to the man's. If looks could kill the man would be dead right now.

"It is a good thing I'm more than a man, isn't it." There are hidden undercurrents here that I can't begin to understand.

Something comes over me and before I can stop myself I use the tips of my fingers to push against the glass causing it to tilt and fall over sending wine running along the white table cloth. Jim watches as the red seeps into the linen before he turns to Lebedinsky.

Lebedinsky's eyes narrow on me and I think for the first time he might not see me as someone he wants to fuck for the night. I'm not sure what was in the wine but whatever it was he really, really wanted Jim to drink it if the go-to-hell look he is shooting me is any indication. Jim picks up on it too. His mood changes to something that makes the whole restaurant grow colder. Waiters hurry over to take care of the mess I made as the woman from the stage comes out of the back in a stunning white dress that doesn't hide any of her curves.

The dancer that was all hips and rhythm comes over to sit beside Lebedinsky. The way they are together I think they are more than boss and performer but I keep my mouth shut. I try to hold in the cattiness that wants to crop up because that isn't the kind of woman I am and I have no reason for being catty in the first place. Jim isn't mine. We aren't together and I can't be jealous of another woman wanting him. He is beautiful in a dangerous sort of way and some women like sleeping with tigers, or snakes.

Comparing the two of us would be like comparing a porn star to the lady's choir director at a Sunday church service. Her dark eyes all but fuck him across the table. Hell by the end of dinner I might need an after-sex cigarette if that is still a thing people do. She reaches her arm out to walk her hand closer to him on sharp red nails that look lethal. I could maybe use my heels to stab someone since all my nails are unpainted and short.

I reach across the table to snag a grape that has fallen off the vine. I tend to fidget and I can't fidget here. So I put all of the fidgets into the grape, biting it in half and using my teeth to remove the skin from the second half of it before putting that into my mouth. I become aware of the quiet first. When I look up everyone's eyes are on me and Jim's hand is squeezing my thigh again. The looks range from shocked to pissed.

"Why is everyone looking at me?" I whisper as low as I can because the last thing I want is for the goddess sitting at the end of the table to realize I messed something up. God I hope I didn't embarrass him or make a social faux pas that is going to bring him trouble.

Jim's eyes glitter behind his glasses before he answers me, "Because you just tongue fucked a grape."

I try hard to school my features so his words don't let anyone else know how surprised I am. Note to self: don't fidget with your food, especially not in front of other people. Mata Hara is shooting me looks to kill and Lebedinsky sits forward staring at Jim.

"We can make a trade. You want the name." His eyes slide over to me, "And I want something from you."

Fuck! I'm not sure how I got myself into this mess. Jim really wants the name of the man who forced his men to retire and then tried to kill them. He wants it badly. Bad enough to give me to a big-ass Russian? Probably.

Jim laughs and sits forward with his hands steepled in front of him. "I could just wait until you leave. Take out your guards - there are five of them here tonight if I'm counting right," he slides his eyes over to the woman sitting beside the Russian, "and your entertainment for the night and take what I want from you. That will leave me hours to play with you."

The man turns ashen and looks around like he might be checking on where all the guards are. He motions for one of the waiters to come over to him before taking a piece of paper from him and writing something on it. He slides it over to Jim. Jim puts his palm over it but when he pulls away there is a card lying on the table in the paper's place - like some magic trick that has the whole table going quiet. It's the same one he showed me months ago with his symbol on it.

"See you around, Lebedinsky." He stands and helps me from my chair.

"But I gave you what you wanted." The Russian looks like he is trying to launch a defense to spare his life. Sweat breaks out on his forehead and he's so white he could be a ghost. Every person at his table is quiet and staring at him like he just found out he had the bubonic plague. "I gave you the name."

Jim leans over the table and gets right in the man's face. "And I told you not to look at my woman."

He straightens and moves back to me. His hand drops to my hip. I had to have heard him wrong - right?

"I didn't know she was yours. I mean that you were, um...," Jim turns to stare him down. "If I had known she...I wouldn't have..."

"And now you never will again."

He leads me to the front of the restaurant and the waiting car. So much has happened that I have to digest it makes my head spin. I don't think I'm ready to live the life of a spy if everyone around you knows things you don't. How the hell are you supposed to find them out? What the hell is going on with Jim? Surely it's him just being protective of one of his 'people'. Once we are in the car I don't have the courage to ask him about any of the things said or done tonight. Sometimes the less you understand the better.

8

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