by Tiffany Snow
Surprised, I glanced down at myself. “Uh, well, yeah, I guess. Why?”
“Is it really appropriate?”
I stared at him, my eyes wide. Was Parker really taking me to task over a cocktail dress? This was new territory and I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“It’s New York,” I offered with a shrug. “It seemed okay. Don’t you like it?” I self-consciously tugged at my hem. Maybe it did show too much leg for a business dinner.
Parker swiped a hand over his face, still looking at me, while I waited for his answer. I shifted from one bare foot to the other.
“Maybe you don’t have to go at all,” he said at last. “I can handle it. You stay here and, I don’t know, order room service or something.”
My face fell. I wouldn’t get to go out? In Manhattan? That seemed grossly unfair, especially after the pains I’d gone through to get ready.
“Fine,” I snapped, trying to keep hold of my temper. “If you’re giving me the night off, that’s great, but I’m sure as heck not going to sit around the room all evening. I’ve been stuck in here all afternoon.”
Parker’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened, but I stood my ground. If I didn’t have to work, then there was no earthly reason why I couldn’t at least go to dinner somewhere by myself.
“Where would you go?” he asked.
I shrugged, irritated. “I don’t know, but it’s not like I can’t go have dinner alone.”
“Like you’d be alone for long,” he muttered, making me wonder if I’d heard him right. “Fine,” he said more loudly. “You can come. But can you wear something else? Like pants. Did you bring pants?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Was he really telling me what to wear? “No, I didn’t bring pants. Unless you count my yoga pants. Shall I wear those?” I raised an eyebrow, daring him to dig himself in any deeper. This was getting ridiculous.
Growling a curse, Parker stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door entirely too hard behind him. I let out a breath. What the hell had that been about? For someone who was usually pretty even-tempered, Parker was in one heck of a shitty mood.
I’d hung his clothes while he’d been working out, having to take an iron to his shirt, and now the suit I’d laid out for tonight was ready and waiting for him. I slipped on a pair of black heels that added over three inches to my height and made my legs look amazing, if I did say so myself. I’d brought along a little clutch bag that I put my lipstick, key card, wallet, and phone in before sitting down to wait.
Parker’s shower was quick; then I heard the sound of his electric razor. Trying not to picture him shaving, I turned the volume up on the television, halfheartedly watching the news. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Parker stepped out, wearing only a towel wrapped around his lean hips.
Hot damn.
I jumped to my feet. “You know, I’ll just wait downstairs, have a drink or something, I don’t know. Just grab me when it’s time to go.” The words fell out in a rush as I tried, and failed, to keep my eyes above Parker’s neck. “Your suit’s hanging in the closet and the shirt’s been ironed, so I’ll just meet you in the bar? Okay? Okay.”
Grabbing my clutch, I moved to pass him. My nails dug into the fabric of my bag so I wouldn’t reach out and trail them across his chest, still slightly damp from the shower. I had my palm on the doorknob when Parker called out, “Stop!”
I froze, alarmed at the tone of his voice. What now? I didn’t dare turn back around, not with him wearing next to nothing. I had a decent amount of self-control, but Parker nearly naked would test even the most iron of wills.
“You didn’t show me the back.”
I jumped, startled. Parker was right behind me, his voice close to my ear. His fingers brushed the bare skin of my back so softly, I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, and I gripped the doorknob like it was the only thing keeping me from drowning.
He smelled of cologne now, and aftershave, and just warm, clean man. My eyes slipped shut. This sharing a room thing was such a bad idea. Parker may not be attracted to me, but pushing our professional boundary like this was wreaking havoc on my side of the equation.
“If I give you my credit card, will you go buy something else to wear?” His breath was warm against my ear and this time I was sure he touched between my shoulder blades. A shiver ran down my spine that I knew he had to have felt.
My laugh sounded strangled. “I think it’s a little late for that, don’t you? They’ll be here soon.”
“It was worth a shot.”
We stood like that, neither of us moving, just breathing. The blood rushed in my ears, my pulse racing. I swore I could feel the heat of his body as he stood so close behind me. I was incapable of moving because if I did, I’d turn around, and if I turned around, things would be very, very bad.
“I’d better go have that drink,” I said at last, my voice embarrassingly weak.
To my…relief?…Parker stepped back and I could breathe properly again.
“Yes, you’d better. I’ll be down soon.”
Not trusting my voice, I nodded at the door, hoping he saw me, then was out in the hallway. I didn’t run, not in those heels, but I was clocking a pretty good speed in my rush to get as far away from Parker as I could.
I’d downed one vodka tonic and was well into my second when I caught sight of Parker in the mirror behind the bar. I sat perched on a leather stool, cooling my rather high heels while I waited. I observed Parker’s reflection as he looked around the bar, searching for me.
The suit I’d chosen for him was one of my favorites, a deep charcoal European cut, his shirt a crisp white with a silk gray and white striped tie. It looked amazing with his dark hair, the thick strands brushed back in a loose wave off his forehead. He had the kind of hair that was made for a woman to run her fingers through. The jacket fit his shoulders perfectly, a single button done up to keep it closed.
I could tell when he saw me. He paused, then came striding forward. I kept watching the reflection. Parker had the kind of walk that made a woman want to be the one he was heading for and made other men get out of his way. It was nice to pretend for a moment that Parker was coming to get me for an entirely different reason than a business dinner.
That must be the vodka talking.
“Are you ready?” he asked, stopping next to my stool.
I took a bigger gulp of my drink than was ladylike and nodded. “Just have to pay,” I said, crunching on a piece of ice. Also not ladylike. My mother would be giving me the stink-eye right about now. I reached for my purse, but Parker had already pulled out his wallet.
“I’ve got it,” he said, tossing down a twenty.
I eyed the money, feeling really relaxed now. “Yeah, that’s not enough.”
Parker paused in slipping his wallet back inside his jacket. “How many did you have?”
I crunched more ice, holding up two fingers. Parker tossed down another twenty and I couldn’t tell if he was irritated or amused. Hopefully the latter, but probably the former. Oh well.
“Let’s go.”
Taking my elbow, he helped me off the stool. I expected him to let go then, but he didn’t. But that was okay. I didn’t mind. Two vodka tonics inside of twenty minutes on an empty stomach and I was feeling pretty darn good. Not tipsy—just way better than I had felt before.
“You okay to go to dinner?” Parker asked as he led me out of the bar and into the lobby. “You’re not drunk, are you?”
“I’m not that much of a lush,” I said, offended. “Do you really think I’d embarrass you like that in a meeting like this?”
The doorman opened the door for us and we stepped out onto the sidewalk. Parker paused, glancing down at me.
“No. I don’t.”
I stared up at him, the breeze ruffling his hair, and had to stop myself from reaching up to smooth it.
“Mr. Anderson?”
Parker turned as a man approached, clad in a somber black suit that t
o my eye was expensive, though not flashy.
“Your car is this way,” the man said, gesturing to a black sedan with tinted windows. Ooh. A Rolls. Very nice.
He opened the door for us and Parker waited for me to get in first. I was careful to keep my knees together, swinging my legs inside so I wouldn’t flash anyone a view of the black thong I was wearing. Parker slid in next to me.
I tried to concentrate on the scenery out my window—I’d only been to New York a couple of times, both of which I’d been accompanied by my parents. I watched the throngs of people on the sidewalk, so reminiscent of Chicago and yet not, and the flashes of restaurants and stores and company headquarters streaming by reminded me I was in the heart of the City That Never Sleeps. I saw a dozen places I’d have loved to jump out and explore, including two museums.
Traffic was typical New York bumper-to-bumper, taxis honking and cutting people off as busses streamed by inches away from their side mirrors. It took almost forty minutes to get to the restaurant. By that time, my buzz had, unfortunately, worn off. Parker took my elbow again as we walked inside. We were shown to a table in a far corner of the busy place where two men and one woman already sat. Both men stood when they caught sight of us.
“Mr. Anderson,” one of them said. “I am Viktor Rowan.” He extended his hand, which Parker took in a firm shake. “This is Sergei Klopov, my…how do you put it…? Ah, yes. My right-hand man.” Parker shook Sergei’s hand as well. “And this is Tania.” He motioned to the woman, and didn’t give her a title. She merely nodded, the barest hint of a smile crossing her face.
She looked younger than me, which was a bit of a surprise, considering Viktor’s age. Strikingly pretty, she had deep brown eyes, long black hair, and flawless skin. Other than the nod, she didn’t speak or acknowledge us.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Parker said smoothly. “May I introduce my assistant, Sage Reese?” I smiled and would have held out my hand as well, but they nodded and were already sitting down. Okay, then.
Viktor was as tall as Parker, but not as wide. His face had a few pockmarks, perhaps from acne or the chicken pox. Not unattractive; he smiled at me. But his eyes…his eyes were a light blue and coldly calculating. Just looking at him gave me a chill down my spine.
Sergei was a big man, but it wasn’t in the form of muscle. His suit had to have been handmade to fit his girth and I guessed him to be about six feet tall and perhaps three hundred pounds. He didn’t smile at me, merely nodded as he took my hand.
“Pleasure,” he said, his voice like a rake through gravel and heavily accented.
Parker pulled out a chair for me and I sat down as the waiter draped a black linen napkin in my lap. Only then did I notice the three other men who sat at a table close by. Clad in the same kind of suit as our driver, they each had a wire running from under their jacket to their ear. They scanned the restaurant, their eyes continually coming back to rest on Viktor. All of them had a telltale bulge underneath their jackets.
Bodyguards.
Well, I guess if I was worth a hundred million dollars, had once worked as Russian KGB, and headed the second largest bank in Russia, I’d have bodyguards, too.
“I am pleased you could make it on such short notice,” Viktor said to Parker. “My condolences on the loss of Randolph. He was a good man.”
The sommelier came by, opening and pouring a bottle of wine Viktor must have ordered prior to our arrival. It was an excellent red and I sipped it carefully, appreciating the vintage. My father was something of a wine aficionado, so had taught me the difference between a good bottle of wine and a great bottle of wine. This was the latter.
“You’re still in good hands,” Parker said. “Our firm is committed to helping Bank ZNT raise the capital it needs and selling those shares quickly.”
“Of course. We have no doubts on that front,” Viktor said. “We have heard great things about you, Mr. Anderson.”
“Please, call me Parker.”
“Very well. And you must call me Viktor.”
I took another sip of wine, eyeing them over the rim of the glass. It seemed Parker was turning the charm on full wattage, his smile engaging and friendly.
They exchanged small talk, Viktor answering Parker’s inquiries into Moscow and the state of things over there, with Sergei adding comments from time to time as well. Tania and I were ignored, for the most part, which was fine with me. Tonight was a getting-to-know-you thing, everyone sizing up the other side. Tomorrow would be business.
I caught Tania staring at me several times, and it unnerved me. She seemed unabashed about doing it, scrutinizing me with an intensity that left me squirming in my chair. I tried to avoid her eyes.
The restaurant was a five-star kind of place started by a big-name chef that even I had heard of, and I was in a bit of heaven as the dinner was served. By the time dessert rolled around, I was pleasantly surprised at how cordial Sergei and Viktor were and thought Ryker was probably barking up the wrong tree on this one.
A fourth man joined the table of three bodyguards and I glanced over.
It was the man who’d hijacked my taxi Friday.
He caught my eye and winked, a smirk on his face. My gaze fell on the barbed-wire tattoo across his knuckles and a shudder went through me.
Abruptly, I lost my appetite. I set down my spoon with a clatter, leaving over half the serving of crème brûlée. My stomach churned.
Parker glanced at me, a slight question in his eyes. I looked pointedly over at barbed-wire guy. Still talking to Viktor, Parker casually glanced to his left, his body stiffening slightly when he saw the man. He looked back at me and I could tell he wanted to know if that was the guy. I gave him a tiny nod.
Throughout our whole silent conversation, Parker hadn’t stopped speaking once, and even now Viktor was chuckling at the story Parker had told. There was a pause in the conversation and I glumly toyed with the stem of my wineglass. I felt Tania’s eyes on me again, but didn’t look her way.
“It’s a smart idea, having security, especially in this town,” Parker said. “But sometimes they get a little overzealous, don’t you agree?”
“My people don’t,” Viktor said. “They take their orders from me.”
The atmosphere dropped ten degrees with that pronouncement. Parker and Viktor were locked in a staring contest.
“That’s unfortunate,” Parker said, and now his voice was chilly. “I work hard for my clients, but I don’t take very well to someone laying a hand on my assistant, threatening her, scaring her.”
Viktor smiled a bit, then waved his hand like it was nothing. “No harm intended. I wanted to ensure you understood how…personally I would take it should the wrong sort of information about our bank be leaked to the public.”
“Privacy is something we take very seriously at KLP Capital,” Parker replied. “I’d have told you that myself. I’ll get this deal done and make you a very happy client. But let’s get one thing straight.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Touch Sage again, and we’re done. I will drop this deal and not look back.”
A moment passed, then Viktor shrugged. “There are other investment firms.”
“Not like ours,” Parker said, and now his tone was cold steel. “I drop this deal and everyone will want to know why. Given your history and the holdings of Bank ZNT, they’ll know something’s up. No one will broker your public offering, no matter the price, because no one wants the feds breathing down their necks. Any firm so much as touches the deal, they’ll be lining themselves up for the FBI, CIA, and a whole fucking alphabet of government agencies to scrutinize every piece of paper that’s ever crossed their desk. So don’t threaten me. Are we clear?”
I held my breath, eyes wide, as I waited to see how Viktor would take this.
Silence reigned, the battle of wills between Parker and Viktor raging; then suddenly, Viktor laughed. Not an outright booming laugh, but a low chuckle.
“I knew you were the right man for the job,
Parker,” he said. “A spine of steel. I like that. I think we are going to work very well together.” He glanced at me. “My apologies for Vladimir’s behavior. He can be a bit rough around the edges. Former gulag, you understand.”
I couldn’t speak, my nerves fraught, so I just gave a jerky nod. My hands were clenched in my lap. Parker had just gone toe to toe with this guy, and while he may have won this round, I was terrified that we were way out of our depth.
Viktor returned his attention to Parker. “I’ll be there tomorrow, along with the lawyers and accountants, to meet with you and go over details. I trust that’s acceptable?”
Parker was all business again, the menace he’d just displayed fading under the persona of investment banker. But I’d seen the fighter in him, the man who’d been a Marine, just like that night he’d stuffed me in the closet at the office. And I liked it. I liked it a lot.
Viktor and Parker discussed time and meeting location at our hotel; then he was helping me to my feet to leave. They shook hands and Viktor again glanced at me.
“I must compliment your taste in women, Parker,” he said, his gaze roving down to my thighs and back up. “I rarely find women useful for more than one thing. You, apparently, have.”
Tania didn’t bat an eye, but I didn’t think I’d ever been more insulted in my life.
Parker grabbed my hand, tugging me away from the table, no doubt thinking I might say something stupid. Please. The guy was an asshole, but I wasn’t dumb enough to antagonize him. Moments later, we were back in the car.
We didn’t speak as the driver began negotiating traffic on the way back to our hotel. Parker was looking out the window, his elbow on the door and his chin resting on his hand.
“That was…interesting,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Parker glanced at me, then gave a minute shake of his head.
I shut up.
Like Parker, I looked out my window, which is why I was so surprised to feel him suddenly take my hand.
“I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you look tonight,” he said. He’d moved closer to me, his body angling toward mine.