I watch in disbelief as she pretends she’s never heard of them. She leans forward, waiting for an answer. I offer nothing, and Andrei shuffles in his seat uncomfortably. “Something like that,” he says, and Viktor scowls at him.
But I know what they’re thinking. She’s a woman, and they won’t bother bringing her up to date on what our equation is.
“How lovely!” Lilibeth squeals. “I love to meet Agafon’s friends. So tell me, how long have you known each other?”
With each question, she puts them in an increasingly uncomfortable situation.
Her hand finds my thigh under the table and squeezes—a signal to play along.
“Unfortunately,” she says, turning to me with a little pout, “I need to steal Agafon away. Those excise duty officers will be here in twenty minutes for that inspection, and we need to make sure everything's in order.”
The effect is instantaneous. The Sokolovs, whom I know have been running untaxed liquor through the east side and have officers looking for them everywhere, suddenly find reasons to leave.
“Another time, Letvin,” Viktor mutters, backing away.
“Looking forward to it,” I reply, my voice arctic.
The moment they're gone, I turn to Lilibeth. “My office. Now.”
She follows me up the stairs at the back of the bar, her heels clicking a playful rhythm that somehow makes me even more irritated. I push open the door to my office and wait for her to enter before slamming it shut.
“What the hell was that?” I demand.
She perches on the edge of my desk, entirelytoocomfortable. “That was me saving your bar from becoming a crime scene.” She crosses her legs, the hem of her dress riding up slightly. “You're welcome, by the way.”
“I didn't need your help. My men were on standby.” I pace in front of her, the adrenaline still coursing through me, with nowhere to go. “Do you have any idea how dangerous the Sokolovs are? They wouldn't think twice about hurting you just to get to me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please. If the situation was dangerous, I wouldn’t have entered.”
“And you’d know how to assess a dangerous situation?” I walk up to her and plant my arms on either side of her body, caging her in.
She cocks her head and pretends to think. “Yes.” She looks back at me. “I think I would have known. For example, if they’d have come in guns blazing, I would have handled it in an entirely different manner.”
“Handled it?” I ask through gritted teeth. “You would have handled it?”
“Yeah,” she grins. “Maybe with a gun of my own.”
I groan and step back, running my hand through my hair. “You need to stay out of such situations in the future. You hear me?”
“You can just say 'thank you,' you know. It's only two words. Won't kill you.” Those dimples appear again as she grins up at me. “Go on. Try it.”
“I don't need to thank you for interfering in my business.”
“I think the word you're looking for is 'helping.' And yes, you absolutely do need to thank me.” She pokes me in the chest with one finger. “I was brilliant.”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it, surprising us both. “Fine. You did well.”
Her smile widens. “See? Was that so hard?”
“Yes. Excruciating.” But I'm smiling too, the tension in my shoulders easing for the first time since they entered the bar.
She studies me, head tilted. “You're still wound up, though.” Before I can react, she gets off the desk and wraps herarms around my waist, pressing her soft curves against me in a hug.
I freeze at the hug. It’s the first time I think she’s everhuggedme. But her warmth seeps through my shirt, and I find my hands settling on her back almost of their own accord.
“There,” she murmurs against my chest. “Isn't that better?”
It is, which is disturbing enough, because I’m supposed to be giving her a lecture, and here I am, letting myself get all distracted like that. But what's more disturbing is the heat building low in my stomach, a different kind of tension distracting me from the work I’m supposed to be doing at this very moment.
