“Katya,” he repeats, rolling the name across his tongue like he’s tasting it. A secretive smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “Somehow, I doubt that’s what your mama calls you, but I’ll play along for now.Anton, at your service.”
He sketches a mocking bow, his intense brown eyes never leaving mine. I snort, sidestepping him to walk across the room. “Anton, huh? How very James Bond of you.”
“What can I say? I’m a man of mystery.” He follows me, crowding into my space. That rich scent of him wreathes around me, making my head spin.
Get a grip, Clara.
“Mystery. Right. Is that why you rescued me from that club? Playing the gallant hero?” I arch a brow at him over my shoulder.
He chuckles, a low, dark sound that ripples across my skin.
“Hardly. More like I saw an opportunity, and I took it. Figured you might have some useful information once I got you talking.”
I huff. “So, I’m an ‘opportunity,’ huh? Careful, a girl might get the wrong idea.”
Suddenly, he’s right behind me, his chest brushing my bare back. I freeze, breath catching in my throat. “Oh, I think you know exactly what kind of opportunity you are,Katya,” he murmurs, breath hot against the shell of my ear. “The question is, are you going to play nice and share?
I swallow hard, pulse pounding.
Get it together, pussy.
Steeling my spine, I turn to face him. This close, I have to crane my neck back to meet his gaze, his body a wall of hard muscle caging me in.
“That depends,” I manage, voice impressively even. “Are you going to keep running your mouth off, or are you going to pour me a drink? Because I’m parched.”
His eyes flash, a hint of admiration mixed with the heat. “Where are my manners?” He reaches past me for the bottle, hischest grazing my nipples. The contact sparks through me like a live wire.
“Are you a cop?” he asks abruptly, eyes narrowing. But I can tell he knows I’m not.
I scoff out a laugh.
“Because I’ve got to say, you’ve got that sexy undercover vibe down pat.”
I bite my bottom lip slightly, stepping nimbly out of his reach. “That’s a bold claim, Big Boy. What makes you think I’m not just an innocent clubber in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
A surprised huff of laughter escapes him, and I bask in that tiny victory. He leans back against the bar, arms crossed over that deliciously broad chest. “Innocent? You? I doubt that very much. But…”
He turns and produces a second glass to go with the expensive-looking bottle of vodka. “Perhaps we can find a more civilized way to get to the truth. What do you say,Katya? Care to join me for a little game?”
I eye the bottle warily. Getting drunk with a dangerous stranger seems like a monumentally bad idea. Especially since my last fucking drink took the legs out from under me. Then again, the quickest way to stay alive is to play along. I’m confident I can drink this giant under the table.
I shrug, placing both palms flat on the bar top and leaning in conspiratorially. “I’m listening. What did you have in mind?”
Interest sparks in his eyes and he matches my posture, bringing our faces temptingly close together. The spicy cedar scent of him is dizzying.
“Drink for drink. Question for question. We take turns, and the first to pass out or chicken out loses. Loser spills all their secrets.”
I pretend to consider, then smirk wickedly. “Deal. Hope you can hold your liquor, big guy. Would be a shame if that pretty mask came off too soon.”
“Oh, it’s not my mask you need to worry about,krasotka,” he purrs, voice dropping an octave. “Prepare to be stripped bare… one way or another.”
eleven
Clara
Iknock back another shot, barely feeling the burn. “Stop talking and start drinking, Big Boy. Clock’s ticking.”
Mr. Big Dick Energy matches me, slamming his glass down on the bar.
