“Just warm in here.” He tugs at his collar. “Is it warm? It seems warm.”
He crumbles like a paper bag before my eyes. With each passing moment, his composure frays even more, spooling out of control. Kolya is dismantling this man with nothing but a few pointed glares.
The reasonable side of my brain reacts with horror. The wild, reckless side—the part that reads alpha romances under the covers at night—buzzes with delight.
Greg gulps down his water. “So anyway, my tight end…” He trails off, wild eyes flicking around the restaurant. His Adam’s apple bobs.
A weird mixture of pity and fascination washes through me. “Your tight end?”
“Right. He’s…um…” Beneath his summer tan, his face blanches. “You know what? I just remembered I have an early meeting tomorrow.” He checks his watch. “Like, really early.”
“But we haven’t even gotten our meals yet.” Despite my automatic response, I’m not exactly devastated by the prospect of this date ending.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll…I’ll call you.” He scrabbles for his wallet, throws down some bills that might cover his drink and appetizer but not his entree or mine, and rises so abruptly, his chair almost tips over. “It was nice meeting you.”
Then he flees the restaurant, leaving me alone at the table with the check, one lonely mozzarella stick, and a half-empty breadbasket.
Slowly, I crane my neck and glower at Kolya.
My chest and neck burn.
Who does he think he is? Terrible or not, that wasmydate.
I may not be crying over Greg’s sudden vanishing act, but that doesn’t mean I appreciate Kolya’s silent intimidation tactics.
The guy probably always gets what he wants because of his arrogance and good looks.
And also his scary, bone-breaking ways.
Across the restaurant, he meets my angry scowl with an arched eyebrow and a tip of his head, as if to say,Yes, I chased him off. What are you going to do about it?
Jerk.
I throw my napkin down and march over to his table, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor like tiny exclamation points. The restaurant grows quiet, or maybe that’s just the blood rushing through my ears. I don’t know what I’ll say once I reach him, only that I need to confront him.
Like a wolf tracking a deer, his dark eyes never leave mine. But I’m not prey.
Tonight, I’m a woman with a grudge and just enough wine in my system to display some bravery.
Or stupidity.
Possibly a little of both.
Chapter 6
Kolya
She stalks toward me, all five-foot-nothing of righteous fury on absurd five-inch heels. Her long brown ponytail swings with each step, which draws my attention to the slim curve of her neck and the delicate line of her rising shoulders. She’s pissed.
Good.
Anger is honest. Easier to manipulate than fear. I can work with this.
I lean back in my chair, relaxed and ready. When she reaches the table, I address her with a neutral voice. “Date leave early?”
Her eyes narrow with indignation. “Why are you here?”
My gaze travels over her with deliberate assessment, from the flushed skin of her cheeks down to the blue fabric that hugs her waist. Not leering. Appraising. Like she’s a painting I’m considering purchasing.
