by Rose, Bella
“Do you live close by?” Dmitry tried to keep his tone calm. He didn’t want to alarm the innocent beauty.
“Not really.” She glanced around. “I need to find my cousin and see if our ride is here.”
“Your ride?” Something in her behavior tipped him off. Something else was going on here.
“Yeah.” She nibbled her full lower lip. “See, I have a—” A beefy man burst through the mob of dancers a few yards away. “Oh, there he is.”
“There who is?” Dmitry held her even closer. This newcomer didn’t look friendly.
“Get your hands off her!” The man rushed over and reached toward them as though he were going to grab Anna’s arm.
Dmitry casually sidestepped the man’s reach. “Who is this, Anna?”
“Vassily is my bodyguard.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. “He was the ride I mentioned.”
“I should have never trusted Katya.” Vassily dissolved into a list of epithets in Russian that thoroughly established his opinion on Katya and her ancestors.
Dmitry glanced at the overblown bodyguard with his bulbous nose, barrel chest, and tree trunk legs. A Russian bodyguard very likely meant Anna was Russian as well.
What are the odds?
Anna snapped at Vassily in Russian. Dmitry thought it interesting she hadn’t considered whether he spoke the language. At least he didn’t think she wanted him to be privy to the knowledge that she and her cousin had bribed the errant bodyguard with a hundred dollar bill to bring them to this club.
“One dance,” she told Vassily. “You’re going to let me have one dance, or I’ll tell my father exactly what happened tonight while you were in the bathroom snorting your last paycheck up your nose.”
Dmitry hid a smile. For someone who seemed innocent and completely artless in her mannerisms, Anna had a core of steel inside her. If he’d been merely attracted before, he was absolutely hooked now. She was the most fascinating woman he’d ever come across.
Anna grabbed Dmitry’s hand, towing him out onto the floor. He wasn’t usually much of a dancer, but he would make an exception for her. He moved closer to her as they entered the crowd, using his body to protect her.
When she finally turned around and began to move with the music, Dmitry momentarily forgot what he was doing. It was as if his brain had fogged over. Her laughter brought him back to the present. He was standing stock still in the middle of the dance floor staring at her. He probably looked like a complete imbecile.
The way she moved was enticing and so sexy. Her arms were lifted, her hands gracefully twining to the beat as she shook her hips. The smile on her face was an invitation.
Nobody would have recognized the ice-cold killer from Moscow in that moment. He dropped his inhibitions and loosened his muscles. He snagged her hips in his hands and let her motions guide his.
They moved together, bodies rubbing lightly. The friction between them sent a rush of blood to his groin. His cock hardened, and he angled his hips away from hers lest he let her know exactly how much she affected him.
Dmitry splayed his palms against her ribs. She laughed, and the sound mingled with the music. When she dipped backward, he was ready. He held her steady as she let her head hang low. Her breasts bobbed before him, and he had to forcefully bite back the urge to cup them in his hands.
He pulled her upright, and she flung her arms around his neck. It was the most natural thing in the world to wrap her in his embrace and let the rhythm take them. He hadn’t danced like this in decades. His body flowed with the techno beat, his muscles knowing their purpose before his brain gave the orders. He didn’t let go like this anymore. Not in his personal life, and certainly not in his professional one. It was exhilarating.
She sank her fingers into his hair and stood on tiptoe. The position mashed her soft breasts against him. He slowly lowered his head, pausing to give her the chance to move away. She stared up at him with those beautiful blue eyes instead.
The first touch of his lips to hers was electric. He had the sensation of vertigo as if his world had just shifted on its axis. Instinctively, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.
Someone grabbed his shoulder. “Enough!”
Reflex and instinct took over completely. Dmitry circled Anna in one arm and placed his body between her and the perceived threat. Grabbing the hand on his shoulder, he tightened his grip and twisted. Dmitry already had the individual on his knees when he realized it was Vassily.
Anna actually giggled. “I suppose that will teach him to keep his hands to himself.”
Dmitry let go of Vassily. The man dropped to the floor. Several dancers were backing away in alarm, pointing at Vassily and yelling to one other. It was time for him to go, and he knew it. Making a spectacle of himself in public when he was in town to do a job was the epitome of stupid.
“I’ll leave you now,” Dmitry told Anna. Cupping her face in his palms, he kissed her lightly.
“I never gave you my number,” she murmured. Slipping her hand into his jeans pocket, she pulled out his phone. She dialed a number on the little touchscreen. “Call me.”
Dmitry stayed silent, choosing to walk away instead. Whether or not he called her was irrelevant. Anna would be with him forever. He would never forget the feeling of her in his arms or the taste of her lips. But he wasn’t a man with options. His path was set. And for now, Anna was better off if he walked the other way.
CLICK HERE TO READ FOR FREE ON KU!
