“We’re not.”
A bit of the bastard’s veneer slips and his tone gets mean. “You need me. Otherwise, say so long to your doctorate.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Enough.” I step outside, and separate the two. “Callie, your mother is asking for you.”
I put a firm palm on her ex’s chest when he tries to follow. “Perhaps you should get some air before coming back in, sir?”
I make sure he stomps down the back steps before taking her hand and leading her away from Yuri.
As I pass, he mutters in my ear. “Well played. For now.”
Before I can get her completely clear, Yuri jumps in front of us. “Calliope, I’m only in town for a few days and couldn’t help but overhear you may need some help with your thesis.”
He hands her his card. “Perhaps I can be of some help. I have many contacts in your field of study.”
Callie practically beams at him. “That’s so kind of you to offer. Thank you.”
“Lovely. I look forward to it.” The Russian kisses her on one cheek, then the other and gives me a triumphant look before heading across the room to speak with Mrs. Bradford-Clarke.
Callie starts to follow but I pull her back. “Not yet.”
“I thought you said my mother wanted me?” Her cheeks are red and her eyes still ablaze from her argument.
“No. I was just getting you clear from your crazy ex.”
“First, he’s not my ex. Second, I didn’t ask for your help. Third, it’s none of your business.” I know she’s just taking her anger out on me, but her cold tone stings.
“My job is to keep the earrings safe. I left you alone on the deck as long as I could.”
“Right. The earrings.” Her dry tone indicates I may have blown my chances but I can’t be all lovey-dovey right now.
I’m guarding over a hundred million in jewels. I shudder at how easy it would’ve been to rip them off her pretty earlobes in the dark.
Grayson’s voice sounds in my headset. “What was up with her and the little weasel on the deck?”
I tuck my chin into my chest and answer quietly. “Apparently, Mr. Chase doesn’t understand friend status.”
“Keep an eye on her, I’ll keep eyes on him.”
“Copy that.” I turn as the music starts up and a pretentious twat whose father made millions investing in Google asks Calliope for a dance.
“Certainly.” She gives him a pretty smile and waltzes away.
After that, she dances with about ten blokes, all wealthier than sin. Unable to help myself and knowing it could cost me my job, I cut in.
“May I?”
“You dance, Sir James?” Her earlier anger is gone, replaced by a winning smile.
“Is the Pope Catholic?” I take her gloved hand, place it on my waist, then swirl her about the floor until she laughs, out of breath.
My hand clamps at her side but I dare not move in too close. Instead, I share my want by squeezing her small waist. I gaze at her eyes, her beautiful lips, and her heaving breasts.
When the music stops, her mouth curves up. “Damn. That was amazing.”
“I’m a man of many talents, luv.”
