Three deep in the line of customers waiting to order, Cassie studied the menu. If she scrimped and stuck to the dollar options, she and Bonnie could both pig out on a twelve-pack of tacos, but what she was really craving was the monster platter that gave her a taste of everything.
At least that was one thing she had on Lizbet. Never once had Cassie seen her eat anything but a salad. Cassie, on the other hand, could eat junk food morning, noon and night and still feel like a twig. One of the upsides of having a high metabolism.
A presence registered behind her a second before a rich masculine voice with a delicious Russian accent rumbled near her ear. “I’m not at all confident this establishment passed its food handling inspections.”
Good grief, that man was dangerous inside reaching distance. Even without physical contact, he’d sent goosebumps out in all directions and stamped out all the other sensory inputs clamoring for her attention. Rather than turn, she kept facing toward the counter. She’d have liked it better if she could have kept her smile in check, but she lost that battle entirely. “Mr. Vasilek. I didn’t take you for the El Torro type.”
“Mr. Vasilek, is it?” He moved in to stand beside her and considered the menu as well. Per usual, he was decked out in an immaculate suit—this one a light gray and paired with a crisp white shirt and charcoal-gray tie. While his tone was conversational, the volume behind it was markedly discreet. “I’m fairly confident we’ve gone far past the point where formalities are required.”
“Is that so?”
“Well, we have seen each other naked, and I find once I’ve heard my given name on a woman’s lips mid-orgasm, my surname loses all of its appeal.”
No, Cassie. Don’t go there. That’s dangerous terrain.
But it was too late.
The intoxicating way he’d touched her—how he’d leisurely savored her skin like it was the most divine indulgence and taken time to build her anticipation—was burned in her memories. And the feel of him next to her without any barriers between them? She’d never felt anything like it in her life. It was electric. A connectedness beyond any imagining or explanation.
She cleared her throat and glanced at him. “I don’t think this is the best location to discuss our past...interludes.”
“I agree.” He faced her and motioned to the door. “Let us go someplace more palatable and we can talk about any number of things. Our...interludes...included.”
Oh, no. Thinking about them was risky enough. Talking about them was tantamount to building a bonfire at a gas station. “I think it’s a much more feasible plan for me to stay within my budget and eat something quick so I can get back to the station.” As soon as she mentioned the station, two and two finally added up in her head. “And what are you doing in this part of town anyway?”
“I followed you.”
“You what?”
“I followed you. I was sitting in the parking lot hoping to catch you after your last newscast. I saw you walk across the street. So, here I am.”
No subterfuge. No clever ploys. Just the cold hard truth.
The last of the customers in front of her slid their trays off the counter and left them face-to-face with the flushed girl manning the register. “Hi there. What can I get you?”
Go for the tacos.
Less messy.
And cheaper.
“I’ll have the monster platter for here and three crunchy beef tacos to go, please.”
And there went the opportunity to duck out of work later this week for more cheap Mexican food. Shaking off the self-recrimination, she opened her billfold and started pulling out ones. “Can I get the to-go order in about twenty minutes?”
“You bet.” The cashier looked to Kir. “Anything for you?”
“Nyet.” Kir stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a silver money clip pinching a decent stack of bills. He popped the clip off, peeled off a twenty and handed it the lady. “That will be all.”
Cassie looked to the money disappearing in the register, then back to Kir. “I can pay for my own food.”
“I am certain you can, but you will not with me.” He dipped his head toward the ones folded in her hand. “Put that away. Save it for another daring excursion of the intestinal variety.”
“But—”
“We could argue the point, of course, but this is a nonnegotiable issue for me. Consider it a behavior too ingrained for me to change at this juncture in my life.”
Cassie glanced at the rotund woman avidly watching the interplay behind them. She cocked one eyebrow that pretty much said she thought Cassie was twenty kinds of stupid if she argued.
Ducking her head, Cassie stuffed her bills back in her billfold. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
While waiting for her order, Kir kept his silence and openly studied not just the goings on behind the counter, but the patrons seated in the red Formica booths behind them.
By the time she got her food, there were only two seating options available—a booth in the far corner and a two-seater near the door.
Kir made the decision for her and steered her to the two-seater.
She set the paper bag with the to-go portion of her order aside and tugged a few napkins free of the dispenser against the glass wall. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“You assume I have an agenda.”
“Well, you said yourself you were waiting on me in the parking lot. You seemed awfully indifferent to me last night, so I’m assuming you were waiting for a more professional reason.”
Kir reclined between the corner of the chair and the window, one arm on the table in front of him and the other on the chair’s back. “I wouldn’t use the word indifferent.”
If she hadn’t been ready to eat her own hand, she’d have likely engaged in some verbal back and forth. Instead, she dug into her food and gave him what Aunt Frieda called her I don’t have all day look.
The boyish grin he gave her in return was utterly disarming. The kind of smile leveraged by ornery boys who well knew their allure and used it every opportunity they could. “You have an amazing spirit about you. I suspect there are very few who dare to challenge you.”
“You haven’t met Lizbet yet.”
“Who?”
Cassie waved the topic off with her fork and prepped another bite. “Never mind. Just answer the question.”
“What question?”
“If you weren’t indifferent, what would you call it?”
His smile faded. He studied her intently for several moments. “Angry.” With that, he let out a slow breath and the tension that had crept into his shoulders eased. “However, once you explained your reasons, your actions were understandable.”
Cassie snagged a tortilla chip. “Yeah. Not exactly my finest hour.” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “But, in my defense, it’s not every day you find out the guy you’re sleeping with is connected to the mob.”
His mouth twitched. “That sounds like something out of a suspense movie. And, for the record,” he said clearly mimicking her prior statement, “you don’t know that I am mafiya. Nor, I suspect, do you have any real-world experience with what such a designation would mean.”
“You’re denying it?”
“Am I being interviewed?”
Oh, it was tempting. Terribly tempting.
But it felt all wrong. “No.” She scooped up another bite. “I’d just like to know who I’m dealing with.”
The comment sobered all sense of verbal play in an instant. While he didn’t move from his relaxed posture, there was an intensity behind his sky-blue eyes that unsettled her. “I am an honorable man, and—no matter my line of work or present affiliations—you will always be safe within my care.”
Within my care.
On the surface, it sounded deliciously roman
tic and stirred all those knights in shining armor ideals she’d once entertained. But that couldn’t be what he meant. Probably just one of those odd meanings that didn’t translate well from Russian to English. “So, you’re willing to let bygones be bygones, and you’re here to...what?” Pick up where we left off?
Did she want that?
Could she?
Just because he wouldn’t affirm what he did for a living didn’t mean he was innocent as the wind-driven snow.
He studied her. A deadly predator who clearly didn’t perceive her as a threat, but still might eat her for lunch just for fun. “You mentioned our last encounter proved to be beneficial for your career. I believe we may have more opportunity to work together for our mutual benefit.”
The greasy food in her stomach threatened to push its way back up her digestive tract, and she’d swear her lungs shrank to half the size they’d been ten seconds ago. Which was utterly stupid, really. A business relationship was a whole lot better than anything personal. Or it would be as soon as she figured out a way to expunge all memory of how he’d kissed and touched all the common sense right out of her.
She pushed her refried beans around on the plate and tried to rally her appetite. “Say more about that.”
He sat forward and crossed his arms on the table. “I need someone to help me formulate a list of individuals most impacted by Alfonsi’s disappearance, and you’ve spent a considerable amount of time dealing with those people.”
“Why?”
“Not a specific enough question. Elaborate.”
“Why do you need information on the people impacted by Alfonsi’s disappearance?”
His expression didn’t change, but there was steel in his voice. An uncompromising edge that said someone had crossed a line they should have avoided. “Because angry people tend to take rash actions. Rash actions aren’t good for my family.”
Roman’s stern expression when he’d returned to the table last night flashed in her mind. She might not have been able to understand his words, but there’d been a growled urgency in his message. While she’d quick-stepped her exit from the bar to avoid any further awkwardness or embarrassment, she’d spent a good ten minutes letting herself cool down in her car. Roman and Kir had left all of three minutes behind her. “Does this have something to do with you and Roman leaving right after me last night?”
“I have many responsibilities. You’d be surprised how many times my employees call me away.”
An answer, but not a direct one. Which meant she’d either at least brushed the truth, or nailed it entirely. She pushed her tray away enough to mirror his pose. Helping him after the way she’d treated him would be a far better apology than mere words. Then again, being around him would be a delicious torture, and God only knew what would happen if people found out she was working with him. “A lot of people trusted me with their thoughts and emotions in those follow-up stories. Why would I risk their trust by sharing those thoughts and emotions with you?”
His grin was instant, and his eyes glinted with the satisfaction of a man who knew the fish was nudging his hook. “Because one never knows when and where they’ll pick up a new story.”
Well, she’d give him one thing—he certainly knew which button to push. At the rate she was going story-wise, she’d be fighting Bonnie for a spot behind the reception desk. If he was going to at least open up some new avenues for ideas, she certainly wasn’t going to let a good chance slide by.
She checked her watch and snagged the to-go bag from the edge of the table. “We can have an initial talk and see how things go, but we can’t do it now. I’ve got to get back. How about if we meet at a coffee shop or something?”
“I’d rather our conversation take place someplace private. I’ll meet you at your house.”
“No.”
The calm, yet firm directness of her answer seemed to take him aback. “Why not?”
“Really?”
For a moment he truly appeared to struggle with her response, but then comprehension registered behind his gaze and his lips curved in a pleased grin. “You’re afraid of being alone with me.”
“Ha!” The sharp bark of laughter paired with the annoying snort she was prone to bounced off the windows, drawing several stares. She straightened her spine then stood, but lowered her voice. “You wish.”
His smile never wavered. Not for a second. But there was also a dangerous curiosity growing in the way he studied her. “Perhaps I do. And with the flush creeping up your neck, I don’t think I’m the only one.”
He stood and motioned her to the door.
Cassie took the out and reached for the bar across the glass door to push it open, but he beat her to it and held it wide. She probably should have let the whole topic go, but her pride wouldn’t cooperate. “Not having you at my house has nothing to do with sex.”
At least not primarily with sex.
He walked beside her through the parking lot toward the street beyond. “Then perhaps you could elaborate on your concerns?”
“Really?”
“Please. I’m utterly at a loss.”
With a huff, she focused on the station’s sprawling single-story design across the street. Very little had been done to update the buttery yellow brick so popular in the late sixties and early seventies and the box hedges were exceptionally bland, but the giant American flag waving atop the building at least gave a touch of color. “Please take this in the spirit it’s intended, but you work for a man who’s suspected of leading a growing crime family. I don’t think me telling you where I live is a good idea.”
“1023 South Franklin Avenue.”
Cassie stopped so hard she wobbled slightly in her heels. “How did you... I mean, I only just moved in there.”
His smile softened and his words were offered with gentle deliberateness. “I’m a very thorough man, Cassie. You can’t possibly think I wouldn’t learn everything I could about a person before I shared important information with them.”
Very thorough.
Frighteningly so.
She shook the foreboding off and resumed her trek to the station, albeit on slightly less stable legs. “All the more reason for us to meet someplace public.”
“All right. Then I’ll pick you up and take you somewhere.”
“Not necessary.” She checked both ways on the street and hurried across. “Just tell me where you want to talk, and I’ll meet you there.”
“I’m afraid my retrieving you and escorting you is nonnegotiable.”
She frowned at him, but kept going. “You’ve got a lot of points you won’t negotiate. Tell me why this one’s one of them.”
“Because while I’m very much interested in hearing what you have to share, I’m not interested in anyone else hearing. The best way to ensure our privacy is to make sure no one else knows where we’re going—including you.”
She stopped just six feet from the station’s front door. “You don’t trust me?”
“Should I?”
Hmm. He did kind of have a point. And given how she’d stiffed him after their second date, he still might be wondering if she’d simply used him. “Fine. Pick me up at my place tomorrow at eight. But don’t pick any place fancy. A coffee shop, or someplace simple. And not Starbucks either. It’s criminal what they charge for coffee.”
His mouth twitched as if it were all he could do to keep a wisecrack trapped behind his lips. “You seem determined to expose me to establishments with limited standards.” He nodded, the picture of gentility and confidence. “I’ll endeavor to pick a location that suits your expectations.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Until tomorrow, then.”
He had great hands. Not too smooth like someone trapped in an office, but a man’s hands. Slightly calloused, with long fingers and blunt fingertips. Of all the things she’d replayed from their time together, his t
ouch had been the most frequent. Which was exactly why she’d be smart to avoid any and all physical contact with him going forward.
Glutton for punishment and well-mannered Texas girl that she was, she slipped her palm against his.
Oh, yeah.
Still amazing.
Electric and warm. Supercharged and bristling with promise.
And that was just her hand.
“Thank you again for the dinner. It wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate it all the same.” Hating the breathiness in her voice, she tried to release her hand.
Kir held it tight, the pad of his thumb subtly moving over the tender spot between her thumb and her forefinger. As if he were remembering other, more intimate places he’d touched her. “I assure you. The pleasure was all mine.”
He gently released her, turned without the least amount of hesitation, and strolled toward the parking lot like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Watching him was something to relish. An indulgence she didn’t even realize she’d taken until he stepped off the sidewalk and turned to open the door to his car.
Great. And now he’s busted you ogling him.
She swung one of the double glass doors open and strode into the arctic reception area.
“Girl, that dude was hot,” Bonnie said before Cassie’s eyes could adjust from the blinding sunshine outside. “He your boyfriend?”
“Oh, no.” She set the paper bag on the counter and shook her head. “Just a contact that helped me out on a few stories a while back.”
And ruined me for other men, but why quibble over details?
Bonnie took the bag and opened it, but the look on her face and her answering chuckle said she didn’t buy a word Cassie’d said. “Uh-huh. Looked to me like he was plotting how to peel you out of your professional getup.”
Yeah, it’d felt like that, too. But she wasn’t going to think about that now. Or ever, if she could help it. “Nope. Just talking business.” She waved toward the bag and headed back toward the newsroom.
Hers to Tame Page 5