Lucky fucking me.
Amir and I stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the SUV fishtail out of the parking lot. Gravel sprayed beneath its tires and above the pavement, sending dust billowing up in a choking cloud that burned the back of my throat.
The engine howled once—angry, panicked—and then the vehicle tore down the road, vanishing around the bend. All that remained was silence and a single sandal abandoned on the asphalt, twisted and lonely like a casualty left behind on a battlefield.
The snake—if there had ever truly been one—was long gone. Probably fled the mayhem. Smart creature.
“She drives like the devil himself is stalking her,” Amir muttered beside me, arms folded tight across his chest.
“We’re not far off,” I said dryly, eyes still fixed on the empty road.
So much for hoping Dr. Sophie Baldwin wouldn’t come to Albania. This encounter had been anything but a chance, but I hadn’t expected her to collide with me quite so literally.
The woman was gorgeous, which wasn’t new to me with the amount of updates I’d been sent these last few months, but I really didn’t need a distraction or extra responsibility right now. Still, I couldn’t help but look her way, hoping for another glimpse of the beautiful redhead with curves in all the right places.
“I’ve never seen a woman move that fast in my entire life,” Amir continued, squinting into the fading dust. “My back ached just watching her launch herself at you. That whole scene”—he shook his head—“was like a damn ambush.”
I exhaled slowly, her floral perfume still clinging to my skin and my suit.
It was entertaining, yet something about the woman unsettled me. The feeling lingered like a question I couldn’t frame. Every instinct I had told me she was fleeing from something, but after all I’d learned about her, the answer refused to surface. As far as Kristoff—and by default, my team and I—were concerned, she was taking a much-needed sabbatical.
Right.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, adjusting my cuffs.
“Americans,” Amir scoffed, still unsettled by the fiery woman. “Only they would attempt to tip you twenty euros after mounting you.”
“Maybe we should’ve taken it and invested. You know, diversify our portfolio,” I joked, shooting him a side-glance.
“I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or yourself.”
Letting him ponder on it, I turned toward the black Mercedes idling beside the stone wall where my driver, Dina, waited with practiced patience, observing the scene through a mask of carefully concealed judgment.
Yes, she was a petite woman, but her personality was greater thanher five-foot frame. And yes, my associates never failed to judge me for employing a female driver, just as Dina never failed to judge me for being a criminal. But Dina, like her mother before her, had driven for my mother, and her loyalty was the kind that couldn’t be bought. Because of that, I accepted her judgment—and her occasional advice—and would continue to do so for as long as I lived.
She opened the door just as I stepped up to the car, and I shook my head. “Dina, how many times have I told you not to open the door for me?”
Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “What other excuse could I have to stand out here and watch you two stalking a woman and acting like fools?”
I arched my eyebrow. “Fools?”
“She could have stabbed you,” she hissed. “I mean, if American redheads are your thing, be my guest. Get stabbed.”
I let out a chuckle. “Oh, you’re worried about me. That’s sweet.”
She rolled her eyes just as Amir stepped forward and added, “As if I’d ever let my boss get stabbed by a redheaded American. Now get behind the wheel and get us out of here.”
I slid into the back seat, tuning out their brief round of bickering before motioning for Amir to follow.
Dina slammed the door behind him, narrowly missing his foot. He shot the door a glare over his shoulder as she rounded the car, her expression unapologetic.
“She’s going to be the death of me,” he muttered under his breath.
“Why don’t you just marry her?” I suggested, leaning into the leather. I suspected they regularly had secret rendezvous, although both pretended they couldn’t stand each other. “You already behave like an old married couple.”
I really should have known better than to go down that road because Amir turned the tables on me.
“Are flaming redheads your thing, boss?” he asked casually, leaning into the leather.
