Page 17 of Lethal Abduction

I’ll have to tell him that one next time I get him in the boxing ring.

Should make for a good few rounds.

“So who’s the asshole we’re going to meet at Pillars nightclub?” I drive through the streets as slowly as I can get away with.

“How do you know he’s an asshole?” she counters.

“If he’s hanging out at Pillars, he’s definitely an asshole.” I loop my hand over the steering wheel, clenching my fingers to stop myself trailing them up her bare leg. “And if you’re breaking up with him, he’s clearly adumbasshole. Which means you’re absolutely doing the right thing.”

Abby shakes her head, but she’s laughing. “You just don’t give up, do you? How do you know Pillars, anyway?” She looks at me curiously. “You don’t strike me as the type for imported beer and chatting up a waitress-slash-model.”

“Thank Christ for that.” The streetlights make loose strands of her blonde hair gleam in the dark. I have a deep urge to know what they’d look like spread over my pillow. “I never go near the place if I can help it. Unfortunately, Roman owns Pillars, and his imbecile of an adopted brother runs it. Or rather, fails to run it. Which means I have to spend a lot more time there than I’d like.”

Abby is staring at me. “Owns it,” she repeats hollowly. “Of course he does.” Shaking her head, she turns away to stare out the window.

Pizdozh.I clearly just fucked up, though I have no idea why.

“Hey, Skip.”

She doesn’t turn around, but in the dim light, I can justmake out the hint of a smile beneath the upturned nose that, for some reason, I find weirdly irresistible.

“Look at me.”

She shakes her head but turns back, wearing a wry expression. “What, muscle boy?”

“I work for Roman. But he doesn’t own me. Okay?”

She lifts a dismissive shoulder. “If you say so.”

It’s not the answer I want to hear. I also don’t want her jumping out of the car at the next set of streetlights. And something tells me Abby is more than capable of doing exactly that.

“So.” I turn into the parking lot opposite Pillars. “How are we going to play this?” I grin in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Do I stay in the background while you give the asshole the good news? Or do we pull the old faithfultoo late, I have a new boyfriendtrick?”

“New boyfriend, huh?” She smirks. “Getting a little ahead of ourselves, muscle boy, aren’t we?”

“You really need to stop calling me that.” I lean across her and undo her seat belt, only just managing not to touch the deliciously springy breasts I’ve been eyeing for months. “A man could get the wrong idea.”

I don’t miss her sharp intake of breath when I straighten up, nor the way her nipples stiffen beneath that ridiculously short dress.

I’ve suddenly got a hard-on that’s going to take more than one drink to go down.

Fuck.

She better dump this asshole fast.

I go around to her side and open her door. “Come on then, Skippy. Let’s get this over with.” I help her out of the vehicle, my arm lingering around her waist.

“Don’t do that.” She pulls away from me, looking around with a wary expression that sets my nerves on edge. “There’s aphotographer,” she says, seeing my face. “He’s an even bigger asshole than my soon-to-be ex. He’s been hanging around the café a lot lately, and the last thing I need is to find myself on the pages of some tabloid. Especially standing next to you.”

“Is that right?” I keep my tone light. “What, I’m not pretty enough for the papers?”

To my relief, Abby bursts out laughing. “God, you’re an asshole. But it isn’t that.” Her smile fades. “Miguel is the striker for Cádiz FC, so he’s like this Z-lister who makes the papers. It’s just that Lance Ryder, the pap dude, is a weirdo, and I’m sick of him hanging around.”

“I thought all girls liked the idea of dating a celebrity.”

“Not this girl.” There’s a certain edge to her voice. “Anyway.” She shoots me a smoky sideways look that drives any thought of photographers, or her soon-to-be ex, right out of my mind. “It’s probably better if you keep your distance once we’re inside. I’d rather not have any... trouble.”

“Trouble?” I give her an innocent look. “Choir boy over here.” I twirl my finger over my head like a halo, and Abby bites her lips to stop herself from smiling.

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