Page 48 of Lethal Torture
Her mouth twitches. “Obviously.”
She raises her travel mug in a silent toast. “Take care, Miss Melikov.”
It’s the Right Honorable Simon Lowbridge who needs to take that advice, Agatha, not me.
I stand in the private dining room long enough to digest her information, then pick up the phone to the front desk.
“Enzo. Didn’t you mention recently that you had a date with the private secretary to Simon Lowbridge?”
“Andrew? I’m not sure I’d call it a date,” he says dryly. “More of a brief but mutually enjoyable encounter in the toilets of Village Soho.”
“One that you are going to repeat. This time on a proper date. Use the company credit card, take him somewhere nice. Then find out as much you can about his lord and master, and report back.”
“Lowbridge?” Enzo doesn’t attempt to hide his disgust. “Do I have to?”
“That prick was behind theDaily Truthpiece. And unless you fancy seeing him on the guest list for the Winter Ball, I need dirt, and I need it fast.”
“Oh, God.” He sounds as horrified as I felt when Agatha mentioned it. “Understood.”
I head to the elevator, mentally bracing myself for the day ahead.
Unfortunately, not even envisaging the torture of Simon Lowbridge serves to distract me from the memory of Luke’s hands on my naked body.
12
LUKE
“He’s goingto dowhatnow?”
Charlie, Zinaida’s driver, glares at me on the pavement outside the club.
“Luke will ride with you until he’s up to speed,” Zinaida explains, “and occasionally take over as my driver to free you up. Anatoly needs help training the new security staff, and you’re the only one with the experience to do it.”
She delivers the news with a smooth professionalism which provides both explanation and seems to soothe Charlie’s ruffled feathers. “I know how much you hate the day shift,” she adds, casting Charlie a slight smile. “This way you can train in the afternoons and work nights.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Although going by the belligerent stare Charlie gives me, there’s going to be nothing easy about the induction. “Up to speed.” She sniffs. “I’d need a goddamn year to get you up to speed.”
“I told you that Luke is one of Mak’s men,” Zinaida says. “He’ll pick it up fast enough. He needs access to every aspect of my schedule and security arrangements; I expect you to give him everything he needs.” She glances at her phone. “I’ve got meetings all morning, then we’re heading to Sophie’s House. Let’s hustle, Charlie.”
Charlie wrenches the limo door open, still glaring at me. “Don’t expect me to open doors for you, kangaroo boy,” she snarls as she slams Zinaida’s closed. “I don’t give a fuck if Mak gave birth to you himself.”
“Noted.” I stifle a grin as I take the front passenger seat.
She pulls out of the square onto Grosvenor Street with a speed that makes a passing street cleaner frown, then darts between traffic like a Formula 1 driver in second place. “So what’s with the muscle?” she asks without looking at me. “Last I heard, Mak ran mercenaries, not a chauffeur service.”
“Mak was asked to recommend a driver. He offered the job to me.”
Charlie snorts. “A driver, huh?” She gives me a sideways glance. “Hope that suit is steel lined. This job takes a lot more than driving skills.”
We drive in silence for another ten minutes before she pulls up in front of a gleaming office building. I open the door for Zinaida, who moves past me in another delicious waft of scent. We escort her into the building, then return to stand beside the limo.
Charlie folds her arms and stares grimly at the revolving doors, lips pressed tightly together.
I suppress a smile and wait her out.
Half an hour later, Zinaida returns and I open the limo door again. Charlie pulls back into the traffic. I don’t miss the tension in her body, nor the way she stares at every approaching vehicle like it’s a bomb waiting to go off.
We travel in silence until we reach the location of Zinaida’s next meeting. Charlie’s eyes cut across to me. “So not a talker, then.”
