Page 6 of Octavious
She giggles. “Most men fall in love with me,” she murmurs and pushes her hair back.
“I love a girl with spunk,” I retort close to her ear.
She shivers a little as my words register. “What do you do?”
Without hesitation, I answer the number one question most men in my line of work hate answering. “I’m a professional jewel smuggler,” I inform her.
She throws her head back to laugh. Her laugh is melodious. “That’s a good one. I haven’t heard that one yet.”
“What jobs do you hear the most?” I question.
“One guy told me he’s a dildo model and asked if I wanted to see his pose. Another told me he is a surgical doctor and needs to check to make sure I’m healthy. You know, the usual come-on lines.”
I nod as if I’m taking notes. “Well, it isn’t fair that you know more about me and I don’t know about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
I want to know what’s under these tight ass leggings.“First, what do you do for a living?” I turn her question back onto her.
“I run my own business. I’m a clothing designer.”
It is my turn to laugh.
“I’m actually telling the truth.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. How long have you done that?”
She smiles and takes a drink from her glass. I’m keeping a watchful eye on mine to make sure no one drops anything in it. The last thing I need is for someone to fuck with my drink.
Chapter Six
Vera
His crystal blue eyes have me engulfed in the conversation. One of the last things I want right now is complications. I’m still trying to digest what happened with Servos and that was my fiancé. I’m not wanting to start anything serious.
I keep telling myself that, but this sexy man in front of me is making me want to say fuck that.
His stark white button-down shirt is tight enough to see he has a strong chest. I can see a sprinkling of chest hair poking out against his Greek Orthodox crucifix. He looks likes a Greek god.
If I wanted something carefree and with no strings attached, I guess I could do worse than this man.
It has been so long since I have been around someone who didn’t know where I came from or who my father is. I like that.
Iago is waving at me from across the ski lodge with a man under his arm. I guess he found something to entertain himself with tonight.
“Fancy,” the man says with flirtation dripping from his words. “How long are you staying here?”
I shrug him off and take another drink out of my tumbler. “I’m not sure. I think only for the night?”
“Are you telling me or asking me how long you are staying for?”
I giggle. I like it when a man is paying attention to what I have to say. It makes me feel like I’m being listened to and not used in some other plot. My father has made me overly paranoid over the past few years.
Without being introduced, another man materializes behind my mystery man. He is a little heavier set with a balding head. He looks like he would be a nice guy until he looks at me with stone-cold eyes.
These stone-cold eyes are the eyes of someone in the mafia or had an affiliation with the mafia. I swear to all that is holy, if my father hired a bodyguard, I’m going to kill him myself!
“So, we handled the situation and everything’s taken care of,” the new man states with certainty.
