Once on her feet, she begins a slow circle around the room, her fingertips grazing the polished edge of my desk. I know this lazy prowl. She wants me to watch her body in motion, to be distracted.
Not going to happen.
“Do you remember,” she says, softer, as she steps just a bit into my space, “when you were the one who could still be teased? I do.” She lifts her hand and grazes my shoulder with her fingertips. The silk of her dress whispers as she leans close.
I don’t react. Those nights I spent with Ruth last year had been a mistake. But they’re a mistake that only one of us seems to have moved past.
Since Gabriella, every other woman seems diminished.
Ruth’s eyes search my face, as if hoping I’ll suddenly crack into a big, stupid smile and tell her I’m only screwing around, that I’m still on her side. That doesn’t happen.
Her eyes do flash, as if she’s just put two and two together. “Oh,” she says. “I see. I get it now.” She laughs once with just a tinge of cruelty at the edges. Then she nods her head slowly in understanding. “So that’s why you’re snarling over a finance assistant.” She tilts her head a bit. “You’d risk getting on my bad side over some Rubenesque little PowerPoint jockey?”
“Watch your mouth, Ruth.”
She lets out an amused snort of a laugh. “Touchy.”
“You were crass,” I say. “Don’t make that mistake again.”
Her lashes lower. “Or?”
“Or you’ll learn what it is to be without an ally.”
She huffs, still amused, still not taking me seriously. “This little performance is verypakhan. Is that what she likes? The angry king lashing out at his subjects? Or does she even know who you are, what you do?” Her eyes glitter. “Don’t be absurd, Sasha. You can growl at me in here, but you know what happens to men who displease my family. You’ll get cut out. You’ll lose your customs cushion at the docks. Your Dublin connections will vanish. And I know for a fact that you don’t have the wiggle room to replace those connections before your people here in Chicago will get very, very testy.”
Ruth is many things, but she’s not stupid. Not even close. She knows the precise ways in which she could put the screws to my operation, and which pressure points she could push to really make me hurt.
I let the silence settle. She expects me to apologize, as if I’m a mere subject who forgot his place. Not a chance.
She goes on. “She’s a liability. You know it; I know it. Men like you don’t get to keep pets. Not if you want to keep her, and yourself, alive.”
I’ve heard enough. “I’m going to say this one time, Ruth, and one time only. So listen closely. If you threaten or insult Gabriella again, the O’Donnell contracts with AngelCorpdissolve overnight. You’ve got product, but I’ve got logistics. Every route your merchandise takes will freeze. Every ship of yours will develop a docking clearance problem at exactly the wrong moment. And when you call to try and fix it, no one will pick up.”
The quiet hum of the air conditioning is suddenly quite loud. I can practically hear her weigh the bluff and search for the tell that says that’s indeed what this is.
She doesn’t find it.
Ruth laughs again, but the tone has moved from mocking to careful, nervous even. “You’d burn the decades of our families working together overher?”
I let her words hang in the air as I make my way to my chair. I ease into it, not hurrying myself in the slightest. “I would. Because right now, she’s the most important person in this operation. And because not only did you insult her, but you also did it in front of me. You tested me. Tell me, Ruth—did I pass?”
She says nothing, instead biting her lower lip and chewing it a bit. I can sense I’ve finally caught her off guard.
“If you think I’m screwing around, I encourage you to try me.”
Her demeanor shifts. She’s settled on her next move. When she curls her mouth just so, narrows her eyes hungrily, I practically want to laugh out loud as I realize what’s about to happen.
Seduction.
Her eyes locked onto mine. Ruth moves her hands up slowly to the collar of her dress. She unbuttons one button, then another, just enough to show the black lace of her bra and the slight curve of the cleavage she knows most men can’t resist.
“We used to have fun, remember?” she asks, voice low, dangerous. “Long, lazy nights and mornings. Come on, Sasha. Don’t be boring. And let’s not make enemies of each other over a little business drama.”
She thinks nostalgia will loosen me. It won’t.
I don’t move. I don’t let her use the memories as leverage. “This isn’t last year, Ruth.” My tone is flat, bloodless. “I’m not interested in repeating bad decisions.”
She laughs softly, still trying to slide back into the rhythm we once had. “You’re so impossibly strict now. Where’s the Sasha who could bend?” She smirks. “Andthrust?”
