“Why are we here? I mean, it seems odd, doesn’t it?”
“You mean because my family is a bunch of criminals?” A sparkle shines in his eyes with his question.
“I didn’t say that.” I pause, weighing the danger, and decide to go forward anyway. “But yeah.”
He laughs, and it’s hearty and deep, and so damn sexy my toes tingle.
“Some of our businesses are completely legitimate. For those businesses, we play the philanthrope card here and there. It gives us a positive public appearance, but it also gives us a chance to keep a tight leash on connections that sometimes feel they can wander.”
His eyes move over my shoulder. I turn to follow his stare and find a man standing in a small group a few tables over. He must feel Ivan staring because he glances our way, and when he does the color fades from his cheeks.
“Besides. The children’s hospital is a good cause,” he says, bringing his attention back to me.
“Aren’t you afraid the people you work with will turn on you? It has to be stressful not being sure who you can trust and who you can’t.”
“We have protections.” His gaze sweeps the area around us again.
“You mean blackmail. If they turn on you, you turn on them?”
“Having information is as profitable as having a high-end product.”
Moving to his side, I watch the people in the room. Mingling with each other, giving fake kisses of greeting with their joyless smiles planted on their over-botoxed faces. Nothing here feels real.
I exchange my empty champagne flute with a full glass as a waiter passes us.
“Last one.” Ivan gives a pointed look at the glass.
“Not likely,” I mutter, turning more toward the room.
He steps behind me, resting his hands on my hips and bringing me back to press against his chest.
His voice is low and growly when he says, “If you’re going to play the naughty girl tonight, I’ll throw you over my knee and spank the smartass right out of you.”
My brain blanks.
The words process, and somewhere, something inside me knows I should be repulsed by his threat. But the connection to the rational part of me has been flooded by arousal.
I pull away from him, spinning to face him. But when I do, he’s all dark eyes and firm jaw. Curiosity plays across his face. He’s waiting to see how I’ll react.
That makes two of us.
He runs the back of fingers across my cheekbone, leaving a trail of fire behind. “If I was a betting man, I’d bet everything your panties are soaked right now.”
“Too bad you’ll never know.” Finally, my brain turns back on.
He shakes his head, laughing softly. “I wouldn’t say never.”
“You’re awfully full of yourself.”
Leaning into me, the laughter fades from his eyes. “There’s a part of you that you’ve shut off. You’ve put a big wall around yourself, and I’m going to tear it down.”
“Oh yeah?” Great response. “How do you propose to do that?”
“I can be patient.” He leans in closer. “When it’s worthwhile.”
Before I can contradict him, a small group of men with their Barbie doll wives invade the space around our table. Ivan slides easily into philanthrope mode— all shaking hands and polite smiles.
He introduces me with his hand splayed on my back, an act of possession that heats me through to my core. The conversation dies during dinner as the speeches begin.
