Page 58 of Alexei (Belles & Mobsters 4)

The intensity in his eyes was volatile and dark, all his focus on Starkov who took a step back away from me. And another. Until he scurried back into the building.

Left alone with Alexei, while the buzz of New Orleans chattered in the distance, all I could do was stare at him. His hands were tucked in his cargo pockets, not a speck of dust on his clothing. He wore all black again. No surprise there, though he should really put some color in his wardrobe.

Like blue. It would accentuate his eyes even more. Then I’d immediately shook the dumb thought off.

I held my breath as I waited for him to say something. Anything. But the stoic man remained quiet. Jesus, he frustrated me. I was thankful he showed up at the right time, but he didn’t have to act like an asshole now.

“Thank you.” I finally broke the silence between us. I tried to pass him, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. I met his gaze head on and sighed. “What?” I asked in an agitated tone.

“You won’t find it this way.” His tone was smooth, calm and final.

Okay, so he didn’t take my warning about stalking seriously. No surprise there.

“I’m not going into that Eve’s club blindly,” I finally said. I hated feeling vulnerable. He expected me to just follow him without any regard for my own safety. A small noise of frustration escaped me and I wanted to growl. “You have to give me something.”

My heart stalled, the words taking a whole different meaning. Shit, he flustered me. And not in a good way.

“Fine,” he replied and I looked at him in surprise. I didn’t expect him to cave in. If anything, maybe take me into a dark corner and kill me. “Let’s go to my place,” he added. Ah, and there it was. He wanted to kill me. I shook my head, keeping my breathing even. “It’s too open here.”

Yes, his reason made sense, but hell if I’d willingly go into a killer’s basement. Or house. Wherever the fuck he slept.

“We can sit in my car,” I suggested and immediately realized my mistake. I took an Uber here.Fuck.

“Fine.” He turned around and started walking away, while I debated what to do. I suggested a car so backpedaling wouldn’t be wise. He stopped, glanced over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow.

“I took an Uber here,” I admitted with a heavy sigh.

He didn’t miss a beat. “My car then.”

I hesitated for another moment and then followed with a sigh.

Curiosity killed the cat. Or the agent.

I walked down Bourbon Street, struggling to keep up with him in my heels. I hated wearing high heels. They were impractical and killer on your feet. Of course, Alexei wouldn’t be a gentleman and wait for me. I watched his broad shoulders as I followed him. He was by far the biggest man I’d ever known. He and his brothers must have eaten a boatload of spinach growing up. It had to be the only explanation for their size.

I wonder if their penis size matched their physique, I mused and my lips curved into a smile. It would be funny as shit to see them naked with a tiny penis against such a large body.

“Something funny?” My eyes snapped up and caught him eying me. My face heated. No way I’d admit to him what I’d been thinking. Yeah, that would make things awkward.

“No. How far is your car?”

He tilted his chin to a Mercedes Benz G-Class.

“Nice car,” I muttered. “G-Class?” I drove a gas efficient Honda. Yes, my family had money, but there was no need to flaunt it. He cocked his eyebrow, as if he was impressed I knew vehicles. “My brothers are into cars,” I explained.

Without a word, he opened the passenger door. I didn’t want to hassle with parking downtown, hence taking Uber. At this moment, I regretted it.

“You make me disappear,” I warned him, glancing around, “... and my brothers will hunt you down.”

His eyes remained impassive, but he gave his head the most subtle shake. Like my words amused him.

“Good to know,” he said in an unemotional tone.

I ignored his stare and slid into the passenger seat. The door shut firmly behind me and he came around to the driver’s seat, then shut his own door. He started the car and put it into drive.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, alarmed.

“Driving.”

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