by CC MacKenzie
"Plus, you're not really my type, Elena," Tom was saying now. "You're too..."
The words suddenly snapped her right back into the moment.
Her brows rose.
"Too what, Tom?"
Tom took another swig of his wine, obviously determined to get his money's worth since he was paying for it.
"It's just... I don't find you very... likeable."
Elena's jaw hit the floor yet again.
"You don't like me?"
Everybody liked her.
Everybody.
Tom rolled his eyes, and it was the final straw that broke the camel's back.
"You're the first person I've ever met who doesn't like me, Tom. I'm very likeable. Anybody will tell you. Let's ask the waiter." Elena waved over the head waiter who materialised at her side. "Do you like me, Gerard? Tell me the truth."
Gerard was sixty-five, happily married, a father of two, and proud granddaddy of four tearaways under the age of nine.
Now Gerard's poached-egg eyes twinkled into hers as he took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her fingers.
"Elena, sweetheart, I adore you."
Elena turned to a seriously unimpressed Tom and gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"See?"
"You have a very strange sense of humour," Tom said, not giving an inch. "You find things funny that are not funny. And you're too..." His forehead creased as he feebly struggled to find the right word in his feeble brain. "Rugged."
"Rugged?" she echoed, all at sea.
"I meant, robust. You carried that rabbit hutch all by yourself when I couldn't budge it." Now he frowned. "A man likes to feel like a man around his woman, Elena."
His woman?
"It's not my fault you've no upper body strength, Tom. Maybe if you spent more time lifting weights at the gym and less time lifting a glass in the pub, you'd be able to lift the hutch for your rabbit, might I remind you?"
"See? There you go, getting all pissy and mouthy."
"Pissy and..."
She snapped her mouth shut because it suddenly occurred to Elena there was echo in her head. An echo that kept repeating the words spilling from Tom's sulky mouth.
Now Tom's pale grey eyes went sulky, too.
"Yeah, you talk to guys as if you're one of the guys. I like my women soft and warm and sweet and... womanly."
Elena's face burned.
It wasn't the first time, not by a long shot, a man had said she was like one of the guys.
All the guys treated her like one of the guys.
Her eyes filled and she'd rather die a slow and agonising death than show Tom, (who'd morphed right before her very eyes into an evil little gremlin shooting unerringly accurate arrows that stung) how much those words had upset her.
Was it her fault she didn't have a mother or sisters to guide her through life? It was true that she was five foot ten and had what her doting father called, 'big bones'. It was also true she was rubbish at talking like a girly girl or walking like a girly girl or wearing girly girl things. She even wore her hair in short pixie crop because she was rubbish with her hair and doing girly things with it, too.
Elena just looked at Tom knocking back the rest of the wine and wasn't sure she was going to be able to stop her hands gripping his puny little throat and strangling him.
"There you go," Tom said. Taking out his wallet, he carefully counted out six ten pound notes and placed them on the table. "Should be enough to cover half, after your staff discount. See you around."
He stood.
"Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"I really don't like you very much either."
Tom shook his head before he turned and walked away.
Elena did her level best to ignore the whispers and the stares from other diners as she picked up the wine bottle and realised it was empty.
Little shit.
Chapter Four
In his man-cave, Marc had watched the whole scene in the restaurant between Elena and her date unfold with interest.
At the point where Elena went to pour wine and came up empty, he kept one eye on her as he picked up his cell phone, slid down his contact list and pressed call. At the same time he toggled the car park cameras, watched Elena's date stroll to his car. He picked up a pen and made a note of Tom's car registration number.
"Hey, Andy. Who do you have on traffic duty tonight?"
Inspector Andy Bradshaw was the local Chief Inspector of police and a good pal.
The way Marc figured it, as the head of security for the Ferranti Group and based at Ludlow Hall, he had a duty of care to the local community and road users. If an asshole wanted to drink and drive that was the asshole's personal choice, but Marc wasn't going to have an asshole leave the bar at Ludlow Hall and killing or seriously injuring someone on his watch and on his conscience. The fact that it was a timely revenge on the dick who'd abandoned Elena right in the middle of the up-market restaurant at Ludlow Hall, in front of her colleagues, was just the icing on the cake.
"Gotta dark blue Volvo, registration number..." Marc gave the number. "Road's are icy tonight. He's had the best part of a bottle of vintage Chianti. And I have on camera the reception staff offering to phone him a taxi, but he blew them off." He listened to Andy sending a message to traffic cops only too happy to take another asshole off the road.
Andy returned his attention to Marc. "Hear you had an escaped mental patient on your hands this evening. Nico's asking for action, this is the third time David Evans has harassed Elena Kennedy. Nico's worried."
"Maybe I should speak to the hospital myself," Marc said. "It appears their security protocols are not up to speed."
"Budget cuts," Andy said. "Gotta go, thanks for the tip-off."
"My pleasure, if I don't see you and Susan and the kids before the big fat man climbs down the chimney, have a good Christmas."
Marc pressed end call, his gaze rose to the restaurant screen. He watched Elena rise from the table, wriggle the hem of her dress down, lift her purse, and stride out of the restaurant and into the bar.
His tongue stroked the inside of his cheek as she slid like melted butter on hot toast onto a high bar stool and wiggled her fingers at the bar manager. As that fine little butt hit the black leather seat, her dress had risen a couple of inches exposing a very nice length of lean and toned thigh. Very nice. Marc checked the time, he had half an hour before his shift ended. Thirty minutes. His eyes narrowed as a good looking guy approached Elena.
The guy leaned on the bar and slid, as far as Marc was concerned, too close to Elena.
Marc's eyes narrowed even further when he saw her smile into the guys face.
Oh no.
Elena'd had a bad night.
She'd had an escaped mental patient hit on her.
Her dork of a boyfriend had dumped her in the worst possible way.
Not that Marc was sorry for that, because it meant that, at last, he could make a play for Elena Kennedy with a clear conscience.
However, the girl was quite understandably upset.
Vulnerable.
Which meant that to make herself feel better, there was a possibility Elena Kennedy might be in a mood to tango with a stranger.
However, the man who was at this moment chatting her up, was no stranger to Marc.
He was a man that Marc knew would be more than happy to tango with Elena.
Not gonna happen.
Not on his watch.
Marc picked up a walkie-talkie from his desk, pressed the button.
"Neil? Can you cover for me until Steve signs in? I'll be in the bar. No, no trouble. Thanks."
Three minutes later there was a single rap on the door and Neil, aka The Hulk, entered.
"Yo, what's up, boss?"
Marc closed his laptop, locked it in the bottom drawer of his desk and turned to his deputy.
"I'm off duty until Monday. Any trouble you know the drill. I'll be in the bar."
He stood.
"No probs. It's looking like a quiet night."
"Let's hope it stays that way."
"From your mouth to God's ear."
Elena Kennedy was a woman in dire need of a very stiff drink.
She wiggled her fingers at Scott, the bar manager and he moved to serve her.
"Hey gorgeous. What's your poison? A Pinot Grigio?" Scott mentioned her favourite tipple, polished the shiny bar with a soft white cloth and smiled into her face. Scott was not only a good-looking guy with a heart of solid gold, he was happily married with a baby daughter. Why was it all the good ones were taken?
"Nope, I need something a helluva lot stronger," she said in a tone that meant business and caused Scott's brow to rise.
"You don't have a head for the hard stuff," Scott reminded her.
Scott knew this because he'd known Elena since she was five.
Right there, Elena fumed, was the downside of living in the same small town all her life.
A strong shoulder nudged hers and a waft of very expensive cologne made her take a deep breath. Very nice. Elena turned to find a stranger checking her out with something like admiration, and was that attraction in his dark eyes?
Oh yes, it was.
And was that a tingle in the region of her ovaries?
Yes, there was a definite buzz low in her pelvis.
Elena found herself smiling.
And Hello, Mr. Tall (very tall. Woo Hoo!) Dark And Handsome.
"Bad day?" Mr. TDH asked.
Elena did a quick mental scan of the stranger.
Nice voice, too, deep and masculine.
Sharp suit.
Expensive tie.
White teeth.
Strong jaw.
A Kirk Douglas dimple in his smooth chin.
Nice.
"Do you count being flashed by an escaped mental patient and being dumped by your boyfriend a bad day?" she said, telling him the truth and nothing but the truth.
Dark eyes danced merrily into hers, and she realised he thought she was kidding.
If only.
Her battered and bruised ego perked right up.
"What you need," he said. "Is an After Shock."
Elena didn't have the first clue what he was talking about, but she took a wild guess.
She smiled.
"Are you offering to buy me a drink?"
For the first time in her life Elena Kennedy was openly flirting and she liked it.
She liked it an awful lot.
Now Mr. TDH smiled right back at her as he turned his very fit body into hers.
And her tingles had tingles.
"I'd be delighted to buy you a drink." He held out his hand. "Odin Jensen."
He had long fingers, nice nails and his hand felt smooth and cool.
He had a strong grip.
Nice.
"Elena Kennedy, lovely to meet you." She turned to Scott, who'd been watching the exchange with wary eyes. "I'll have an After Shock, trust me, I need it."
"Are you sure, Elena? It'll blow your head off."
Elena knew Scott was besties with two of her brothers and could feel her siblings' overprotective influence in the tone of his voice and in the way that Scott was looking at her with watchful eyes.
Well, fuck that.
She wanted a drink and by god she was going to have one.
"I'm not driving. Just serve me the drink, Scottie. In fact, make it a double."
The nickname from childhood did the trick, the bar manager looked at her for two beats too long before he turned a very polite face to her benefactor.
"And what can I get you, sir?"
"Glenmorangie Signet, a double please and put the drinks on my tab."
Elena's eyes went huge when a shot glass was placed in front of her, Scott struck a match and set her drink on fire.
Bloody hell.
When the flames died down, she simply stared at the glass without a clue what to do next.
"You down it in one," Odin whispered in her ear.
Scott was staring at her, his eyes just daring her to drink it.
Elena's chin jerked in a reckless way that had her companion laugh softly.
She lifted the glass and turned to the lovely Odin and gave him the benefit of her best eyelash flutter.
What was the worst thing that could happen to her?
She'd already had the night from hell.
They clinked glasses.
"Cheers," Elena said, throwing caution to the wind and knocked it back in one.
The glass fisted in her hands, she could feel blood leaking from her brain as heat set her throat alight and burned a searing path down to her belly.
Ooooh boy.
Her eyes watered.
Her nose watered.
"Breathe," Odin suggested, obviously enjoying himself.
"That was a single," Scott informed her in a silky I-told-you-so voice. He leaned on the bar and right into her face. "Sure you can manage a double?"
Pig.
Now, in the normal course of events, Elena Kennedy was not a stupid person.
In her professional life, she was renowned for keeping a cool head in a crisis, good judgement and a healthy dose of common sense. If she had a single weakness it was stubbornness. And Elena knew she was being stubborn now. After the night she'd had there was no way she was going to back down.
Plus, she was feeling absolutely fabulous, dahling!
Euphoric.
The scenes with David and then Tom, felt like no big deal.
No big deal at all, baby.
"Gimme me a double," she said with a bravado and a glitter in her eyes that would have made her brothers run for the hills.
She didn't see Odin shake his head at Scott and mouth 'Single'.
While Scott poured her drink, she didn't notice her dress creep up another couple of inches either as she turned to her new companion, who was fast becoming her bestest friend in the whole wide world.
She grinned up into his gorgeously gorgeous face.
"So, Odin Jensen. Isn't Odin the name of a Viking God and father of the great and glorious Thor with the Big Hammer? And didn't Odin have one eye?"
Odin laughed, and at the same time slipped a glass of water into her hand.
"Drink this. It's good for shock, too."
Elena did as she was told.
The water tasted delicious.
Strangely enough she was feeling a little... hot, all of a sudden.
Now Odin slid his arm around her waist and Elena leaned into him companionably. He smelled fab so she took another sniff, this time of his neck. Her eyes dropped to his mouth. A wonderful mouth, she decided. Kissable.
Odin waited until she'd drained the glass of water to respond.
"Well done, not many people know that Odin is, indeed, a Viking god. He's also the god of ecstasy. He makes people do things they don't normally do."
"Naughty things?" she whispered, and licked her lips.
Who was this woman? A voice in her head demanded to know.
Elena had no idea, but she just loved the new woman who'd taken over her mind, her body.
Her eyes met Odin's and saw that they were laughing, in a good way, in a nice way.
"Baby, I'm the god of ecstasy, what do you think?"
Scott cleared his throat, loudly, and placed another shot glass in front of her then set it alight.
"Elena, honey. I don't think this is a good idea," Scott warned her.
His warning fell on deaf ears.
Elena stared at him, gave Scott slitty eyes, a pouty mouth.
And managed to stop herself, just in time, to give him two fingers, because that would most definitely be something that a guy would do to another guy.
Not ladylike behaviour at all.
Oh no, tonight she was going to be all woman.
Then Elena lifted her shot glass and knocked it back.
Her fist punched her chest once, twice.
She was, woman, hear her roooaaar!
Scott turned his head to look toward the entrance to the bar and was that relief in his eyes?
"Thank you, Jesus," Scott said.
Chapter Five
Elena turned her head to see who had Scott all excited, but the room spun and Odin's arm tightened around her waist.
"Evening, O," Marc said as he grabbed Elena around the waist and hauled her off the stool. For some reason the muscles in her legs were confused because they wobbled and went all noodly. "Thanks for looking after my girl. She's had a bad day."
Because she was just loving the way a big strong man was holding her, Elena missed the way two alpha males eyed each other over her head, missed the way Odin nodded once, lifted his glass to Marc and settled himself into Elena's empty stool.
"Take good care of her," Odin told Marc. "She's a special lady."
For some reason Elena didn't mind being dragged away from the god Odin, she raised her hand in the air, wiggled her fingers.
"Bye, bye, god of ecstasy. Thank you so much for the After Shock."
"God of ecstasy?" a voice said in her ear.
She blinked up into Marc's face, saw him run his tongue inside his cheek.
If she thought Odin smelled amazeballs, it was nothing, nothing, compared to the deeelicious scent of Marc Atelier. His strong arm held her close as he supported her to the cloakroom and checked out her coat. As he helped her into a warm coat of the finest cashmere and buttoned it right up to the neck, Elena just let her body fall into his.
She buried her nose in his neck and took a deep inhale.
"You smell amazing. You always smell amazing," she told him and smiled up into his face.
She was bombed.
Marc checked her hazel eyes.
Yep.
Bombed.
He bit his lip as he read adoration and lust for him in those big hazel eyes.
She looked wild, wicked and wanton.
She looked like a woman who needed very badly to get laid.
Marc wasn't stupid enough to take it personally, since she'd looked at Odin in exactly the same way. His ego took a little knock, but Marc told himself to get over it.
His shaft jerked, reminding him that he'd had a constant hard-on all night since he'd seen her walk into the restaurant in that dress.