Page 19 of Innocently Captured By the Bratva

I hit speed dial. “Viktor, how’s it going? Listen up. I’ve been thinking about your situation and might have a proposition for you. ”

An hour later, I'm standing outside Quinn's bedroom door. I raise my fist and knock. “Quinn. We need to talk.”

The door flies open, revealing Quinn in a tank top and yoga pants, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. My gaze drifts over her curves before snapping back to her face. “What do you want?” she asks, her voice laced with irritation.

“We're having a guest for dinner. I expect you to be ready and downstairs in an hour.”

Her eyes narrow. “No thanks.”

I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Suit yourself. I just thought you might want to meet Viktor Petrov. You know, the billionaire?” I pause, letting that sink in. “He's an old friendlooking to settle down with a good wife. Something about how his inheritance from his mother’s side won’t come through until he has an heir. I'm sure I could put in a good word for you... if you play nice.”

Quinn's mouth drops open. I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she weighs her options. Finally, she huffs out a breath. “Fine. I'll be ready in an hour.”

“Excellent. Wear something... appealing.” I let my gaze drift over her again, teasing her to see that spark I so love.

A pretty flush stains her cheeks. “Get out,” she hisses, shoving at my chest.

I chuckle as she slams the door in my face. Quinn Desmond, in a sexy dress, forced to play nice. Tonight is shaping up to be quite entertaining indeed.

***

I watch as Quinn charms Viktor over dinner, her green eyes sparkling as she laughs at his jokes. She's a natural at this, effortlessly steering the conversation to her business and the elite clientele she serves. Viktor hangs on her every word, clearly captivated.

And damn if she doesn't look stunning in that red dress, the silky fabric clinging to her curves. I want to run my hands over her smooth skin, to taste her lips and claim her as my own.

“Well, Ms. Desmond,” Viktor says, interrupting my inappropriate thoughts, “You’re quite certain you’d be able to help me find the right woman?”

“Of course, Mr. Petrov,” Quinn exclaims enthusiastically. “I recently arranged a marriage between a Thai prince and a princess from Bhutan. We have a very elite circle of prospects,and, in fact, some of my clients are paired by their parents who share the same concerns you do! No one wants a partner who will exploit their status and wealth. I can find you an equal, a partner in every sense.”

Viktor laughs. “I think I read about the Thai prince's wedding in one of those tabloids. If that’s the case, you've convinced me. I'd be glad to sign on as a client.”

Quinn beams at him. “Wonderful! I'll have my office send over the contract tomorrow.”

As Viktor takes his leave, Quinn turns to me, triumph written all over her face. “I got him.”

“I noticed,” I reply dryly. “Well done.”

She raises a brow. “Admit it, you're impressed.”

I shrug. “Moderately. But Viktor was an easy mark. The question is, how exactly do you plan to send over the contract when I have your phone?”

Her smile fades. “Is that all this is to you? A chance to have it your way?”

“Not at all,” I say fiercely. “This is a chance for you to hear my plan because, from where I stand, Quinn, you don’t grasp the one simple fact: Charlie Letvin isn’t someone you can handle on your own. Besides, you might find that I’m not just doing this to protect you; I might have something to gain from this situation as well.”

We stare at each other for a charged moment. The air between us practically crackles with tension.

“Tell me,” she demands.

“Are you ready to hear my proposal now?” I ask, checking if she is finally willing to comply. “I did just help you land a verylucrative client, after all, and it would be a shame not to see it materialize.”

Quinn sighs. “I suppose it's only fair. Let's hear it then.”

I smile slowly. “Oh, you're going to love this, sweetheart. Trust me.”

I gesture for her to take a seat on the plush leather couch. She perches on the edge, arms crossed, watching me warily as I pour us both a drink from the bar cart.

“Here's my proposal,” I begin, handing her a glass of scotch. She takes it but doesn't sip. “I will personally connect you with high-value clients, both from my organization and outside of it, from fields like business, politics, and more. Powerful men who will pay top dollar for your services.”

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