by Riley Storm
At once, his expression changed. Natalia watched in disbelief as he stepped to the side and gestured for her to proceed up the stairs.
“A-are you sure?”
The guard just gestured impatiently.
Realizing that she was only going to get the one shot at it, Natalia pushed aside her doubts and climbed the stairs. She’d come this far after all, and the weight of the glares from all the women who’d come before her certainly wasn’t going to slow her down. She reached the top.
It was there that her courage failed her for a moment, causing her to hesitate before following the railing around to the booths. There was more than one booth she saw now, but all were empty except for one.
The music seemed duller up there, less pounding than down on the floor, and she felt herself relaxing slightly, realizing she wouldn’t have to shout to be heard.
Without waiting to be told, she went and sat across from the sole figure up there, sliding gracefully into the chair, folding her hands over one another as she rested them on the table between them.
“Why did you come up here?”
She’d been opening her mouth to say hello, but now snapped it closed. His words weren’t harsh, but they were filled with an intensity only matched by the cobalt blue gaze he now levelled at her.
“Don’t lie, either.”
Closing her mouth slowly this time, cut off twice in the span of thirty seconds, she took her time evaluating the man. Was he really worth this sort of cold directness? Was it just him ensuring he didn’t waste his time, or did it indicate more about him, that perhaps he was just some rich asshole who thought he could get away with being rude to everyone around him?
He was handsome, she had to give him that. His features had the perfect five o’clock shadow without looking scruffy, his jawline could have been chiseled out of marble, and the strongly-defined nose wasn’t too big or too small to fit his slightly oval-shaped face.
It was the eyes though, the eyes that kept drawing her back in, sucking her into their vortex. He was well put together, which included the sharp lines of his suit, which she guessed cost a hell of a lot more than she could ever afford.
Finally, she decided to answer him. Truthfully. It would be a good test, to see how he reacted to the answer. Would he throw her out, or perhaps laugh? She knew he wouldn’t be interested, but that didn’t matter. She’d been allowed up, where so many before her had not, and Natalia wasn’t about to waste that chance now. Not without seeing if she could wipe that cool gaze from his face first.
“I came up here looking for a husband,” she said, locking gazes and refusing to be the first one to budge.
6
Kirell stared across the table at the woman, trying to decipher her, but his mind was fixated on her response. He knew it would tilt the table in her direction, giving her the power to direct the conversation for a bit, but she’d hit him with one line that he’d absolutely not been prepared for.
“What sort of husband?”
She smiled, their eyes still locked in a contest of wills. Whoever she was, this amber-eyed beauty had no shortage of guts to her. Not many humans could take the piercing intensity of a stare from one of the shifters. Yet here she was, this unnamed woman, staring right back at him, barely blinking more frequently than he. Kirell admired that sort of courage.
“The kind that makes me eligible for a Green Card.”
“I see.” Kirell knew he wasn’t completely successful in his attempts to keep a smile from his face, but he doubted his lips did much more than twitch. To any of his kind, that would be a dead giveaway, but he doubted his woman was able to pick up on such subtle hints.
Not yet, perhaps, but she will, given enough time. I believe that.
He’d let her come up because of her tentative approach, the way her friend had been forced to drag her most of the way. That was unlike the others who had approached. Every woman he’d turned away had been beautiful—he wasn’t blind. But beauty wasn’t what he was after that night. Those women, they were confident to the point of arrogance in their ability to use cleavage and seduction to get him…and his money.
Kirell needed someone else. Someone calmer, more rational. The women so confident in their appearance tended to be more set in their ways, and unwilling to change them. He needed someone more malleable, with a mind that could adapt to the circumstances, someone who would be open to multiple outcomes and able to accept any of them.
That had been his initial reason for letting her up the stairs. Now, however, he was seeing a side of her he’d not expected to want but was fast coming to enjoy. She was brave, this one. Braver than most. She’d told him her true reason for coming upstairs, and without much hesitation. That took guts, especially considering her reasoning wasn’t because you’re hot.
Could this be the woman he needed? It seemed almost impossible he’d found a candidate so quickly, but her purpose was almost in line with his. If she truly was open to finding someone simply to give her a Green Card, then she would almost certainly be open to what he needed as well.
Mostly.
His thoughts were ordered. Logical. Cold. He evaluated her like she was little more than a computer program and decided she was the most suitable candidate he was likely to ever come across, a means to an end for both of them. It could work.
“What is your name?” he asked abruptly, shattering the silence that had come over them.
“Natalia.”
He waited, still not breaking eye contact.
“Natalia Kristoff.”
“Where are you from?” Her accent wasn’t overpowering, but it was certainly there, and he was curious as to where. Eastern Europe, he could place that much, but was it Russia or somewhere else?
This time she hesitated. “Nowhere pleasant.”
He could hear the finality in the unspoken period there. Anything more specific wasn’t forthcoming. That was fine, he could handle that. The question had been more for his own personal curiosity than anything.
“Who is your friend?” Time to see how she handled his interest being elsewhere.
“Loren?” She seemed surprised, caught off guard. Her head started to turn, but she stopped, realizing their little non-verbal contest was still ongoing. A smile tugged at her cheeks but never blossomed.
A shame, he thought. I should like to see what a look of happiness does to that already beautiful face.
“What about Loren? She’s my friend from undergrad.”
“Do you wish for me to be your husband?”
He spoke gently, easily, as if the question was something typical and run of the mill. Kirell needed to know if she could handle such sudden changes, to see how she adapted.
“I…well, listen. Um.”
Though she was stumbling over her words, he could see her eyes flickering as she focused on one of his eyes and then the other. Thinking. Working her way through.
“Maybe I should go.” Natalia started to stand, though she still didn’t look away.
That was all he needed to see to know she was the right fit.
“Sit,” he said, reaching out to grab her wrist, holding her firm. “Stay. Have a drink with me.” He pitched his voice low, pleasant, not demanding. Almost inviting, with a hint of seductive.
He was pushing the way he was on purpose, using it to judge how she reacted to suddenly-changing situations. A lot could be revealed about a person based on how they responded to certain questions and topic changes.
Natalia hesitated, and—for a moment—he thought she was going to stay, that he’d been wrong in his evaluation. Then she shook herself and he saw her resolve firming up.
“No, I think I should go. Maybe you’re not what I thought.” She frowned. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, you understand.”
Kirell grinned. She was absolutely perfect for what he needed. Spine, and the ability to adapt. “Agreed.”
His hand was still on her wrist, but she wasn’t willing to look at it pointedly to get him to dr
op it, nor had she wrenched herself free, all of which boded well for him. She was intrigued, as was he, and that would be enough to ensure their conversation continued.
“I’m sorry—pardon? Agreed what?” Natalia was frowning at him now, nicely-arched eyebrows lowering over brown eyes coated in amber.
“That I’m not what you thought I was. But I think I can help you.”
“You can?”
“Yes. If you help me.”
Natalia’s expression closed off completely, going from frown to sneer in a nanosecond. “Listen, mister, I don’t know what you think of me, but I’m not up here selling my body like that. If you think I’m just gonna gratefully suck your dick because you might be able to help me, you’ve got another think coming.”
She tried to pull her wrist free now, but he didn’t let go. Kirell had to focus for a moment, his own anger rising to match the fiery temper he saw inside Natalia now.
“Sit,” he ordered, just a bit more harshly than intended.
He saw the momentary spike of fear in her eyes and realized that he was about to lose her. That was unacceptable, so he did something to ensure that she stayed. He broke eye contact. Kirell let her win. Hanging his head, he gestured with his other hand, while letting go of her wrist.
“Sit, please. I was not trying to insinuate that you should suck my dick, or anything of the like.” He reclined back into the cushioned bench that wrapped around three sides of the table. “I too need someone to help me, in a manner not unlike what you seek.”
Natalia calmed almost instantly, though she stayed standing for the moment.
Kirell looked her over. She was gorgeous, and the tiny black bralette top and high-waisted jeans didn’t leave much to the imagination, but what they did was very enticing.
“You do know you’re unlikely to find a fake husband that you won’t have to sleep with at all though, right? You don’t strike me as anywhere near that naïve.”
“I’m not,” she said tartly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m easy either.”
“I wasn’t insinuating you were. Just making sure you understood. Though…” He paused purposefully. “If you find me ugly, that could be a problem.”
Her eyes ran over him, up and down. “No, I don’t find you ugly.”
Kirell knew that much already, but hearing it was always an added bonus.
“Then join me for a drink. Please. Let us discuss our situations.”
7
She hesitated.
There was no denying the draw she felt to this man. A man whose name she still didn’t know. Natalia knew if she did decide to stay, that would be the very first thing she found out about him. Enough questions had been directed her way; it was time that she asked some of her own.
If she sat back down, anyway. He was allowing her to leave now, if she chose, but everything about his attitude screamed that he expected her to stay. It bothered her that he was so confident, without being outwardly arrogant about it. What really incensed her, however, was the fact that he was right. She was going to stay.
The club offered her nothing but more alcohol and boys on the dance floor who she wasn’t interested in. This man though—and he was a man, not a boy, there was no doubt about that—he hadn’t batted an eye at her reasoning for being up there. He wasn’t bothered by the fact she needed a fake husband. And as far as fake husbands went, he certainly was far better looking than anything she had a right to expect.
“You’re unlikely to find a fake husband you won’t have to sleep with.”
She’d known that, though it was an aspect of the entire deal she hadn’t spent much time thinking about, because until just a few minutes ago, Natalia hadn’t expected to actually go through with it. Still, there could be worse things than having to sleep with someone like him. Much worse.
Looking past him, she found Loren again after a brief search. Her friend was leaning against the bar, ignoring the best efforts of one of the guys to chat her up while she stared up at the booth where Natalia was. Noticing her friend looking down at her, Loren flashed a thumbs-up and a big smile, as if to say, “Go for it!”
“Fine.” She sat down abruptly.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Martini. Any kind.”
He nodded, spoke quietly into his collar for a second and then focused on her, long, thick arms leaning out across the table. “Thank you for joining me.”
“Right. Listen. First things first, I’ve got some questions.”
The big man grinned. “I thought you might.”
“What is your name?”
“Kirell.”
She nodded and just waited expectantly, not willing to let him control the conversation. This was her turn, and he was going to give her all the information she wanted.
A smile slid into place as he realized she was throwing his own tactic right back at him. Natalia tried not to be distracted by it, but he had a gorgeous smile, wide and full of white teeth. It was a powerful weapon.
“Kirell Ursa,” he said at last.
“So, Kirell Ursa, just where are you from?”
“Here in town.” He gestured in what seemed like a random direction. “My family has been here a long time, we own some property on the outskirts.”
The casual manner with which he presented that information, combined with the obvious wealth he had on display, told Natalia there was a lot more to that story than he was sharing, but she let it go. He wasn’t trying to be obvious about it, and she would respect that. For now. In time, though, he would have to tell her more.
“Now, the million-dollar question.” She paused as a server appeared out of nowhere with their drinks. “Thank you.” Taking a sip, she let her eyebrows raise slightly. The blueberry flavor was perfect.
“You approve?”
“I do,” she said, watching as he took a sip of his drink, a whiskey or scotch of some sort, over the rocks. Plain. Simple. Sophisticated. Who was this guy?
“Good. Now, I believe you had an expensive question to ask me?”
Angry that she’d relinquished the control of the conversation—I’m beginning to suspect I never had it in the first place, though—she nodded quickly, putting her drink down.
“Why did you let me come up here, and not all of the other women who came first?”
Kirell didn’t respond immediately, but his attention was still fully on her. He didn’t give her body a once-over, though she’d noted him doing so earlier. Instead, he focused on her face. The intensity in his eyes was still enough to keep her wary, but it could just be the way he was, and not something specific to her.
“Well?” she prompted.
“You’re attractive; you know that, right?”
It wasn’t the answer she expected, but the casual surety with which he delivered it had her blushing almost instantly. It didn’t, however, overpower her brain. “You didn’t just let me up here because of my looks. I saw the women you turned away, they were all gorgeous.”
Kirell’s lips twitched again. He didn’t smile often, but she was beginning to wonder if that was a sign of humor from him.
“You are correct. They were all beautiful. But we’re talking about you. How you’re attractive.”
“Thanks.”
He pointed a finger at her. “That. That is why I let you come up here. You’re attractive, but you don’t rely on it. You refuse to rely on it, because you don’t like to admit that you think you’re good looking. Because you think you have to be humble about it.”
“Huh?” She was confused.
“You don’t rely on your looks, Natalia. The other women who approached, they wanted to be seen with me, so everyone would ooh and aah over how pretty they were. They thought that just because they had lots of cleavage or leg or everything showing, that they could automatically get what they wanted. Not you, though. You wanted something, that much was obvious—else you wouldn’t have approached—but you had to be encouraged. Your friend is also pretty, but I notice she didn�
��t come with you.”
Natalia was getting a glimpse into Kirell’s brain now, and his mindset was fascinating. He was sharp, very sharp. “So?” She wanted to hear more, to try and unravel his brain some.
“Well, how many other women came alone? None. Twos and threes, always. Not you. Your friend held back because she wanted you to make it up here. For a reason. Between that, and your courage in actually coming here, I wanted to know more. To find out who you were. To see how you handled unexpected situations.”
The conversation was firmly back in his grasp, but oddly, she didn’t care. His mind worked in fascinating ways—except there was one flaw, something he hadn’t admitted to but that suddenly clicked into place with her.
“You’re looking for someone,” she said, gaining confidence with every word. “Why? What is it that you need someone like me for?”
Kirell smiled again, not bothering to hide his amusement. “You’re smart. I like that. But you’re the one who came up here looking for a husband. Let’s talk about that first.”
Bravo, Mr. Ursa! Admitting to it, without admitting to it, and turning the conversation back on me all at once. I’m impressed.
She was enjoying the mild verbal fencing. Taking another sip, she tried to hide her embarrassment at having actually told him plainly that she needed a husband for a Green Card. Who did that?!
“You’re smart, you went to school here. Why do you need a Green Card?”
Natalia shrugged. There was no harm in telling him. It didn’t give away any critical information he didn’t already know. “I just finished grad school. I got a job offer here in town, a dream job really. But they don’t have it in their budget to sponsor me for a Green Card. Or they just don’t want to go through the effort, I don’t know. Either way, they won’t do it, and the government is refusing to give me a work visa.”
“And you don’t want to go home.” It wasn’t a question.