Page 7 of The Billionaire's Claim: Possession
I snort, biting back a grin at the teasing smile he adds at the end. He’s probing, and I hate men who probe, but somehow with him it’s okay. As a matter of fact, I want him to get to know me—just me—and like what he discovers. “No. Definitely not. Besides, we were speaking German. Have you ever heard of a German mafia?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
I finish the mojito. “Well, lucky for you, I’m not a mafia princess with big, burly men ready to break your legs for talking to me.”
He laughs.
I tap the rim of my now empty glass. “Is this your favorite?”
“Nope. I prefer vodka.”
“Really?”
He shrugs. “Strong. Neat. No smell. What’s not to like?”
I’ve had a lot of liquor before, but never vodka. “Give me a shot.”
A small frown on his handsome face, he studies me. I feel his gaze like a caress, and I suck in a breath.
Get a grip. You’re leaving the States in less than forty-eight hours.
Still… A girl can have fun with a sexy stranger, right?
Resting my chin in my hand, I grin at him. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to pass out and make you carry me home. I have the infamous Pry—um, a prime metabolism.”
Mr. Absurd’s going to cut me off. I’ve had seven drinks. And he doesn’t know about the notorious Pryce metabolism, which allows the people in my family to drink alcohol almost like water.
The gracious thing for me to do would be to pay and get out before he has to make the decision. Because it’s obvious he wants to cut me off in a nice way, mistakenly believing it’s for my own good.
But if I leave…I may never see him again. I’m returning to Italy to study with Grandpa Thomas in two days.
The idea of never seeing Mr. Absurd again does funny things to my insides. I don’t recognize the feeling, and I don’t like it.
On the other hand, I should leave now before making a fool out of myself. Just look at him. He probably has a girlfriend. Or a harem of girlfriends.
I bite my lower lip, not liking that notion one bit. I’ve never fought over a man. There are plenty of pretty boys to go around, but somehow…this one is different.
Definitely time to get up and go. I must be more buzzed than expected if I’m getting jealous over a guy I just met.
Before I can get up, Mr. Absurd places a shot glass in front of me.
Wordlessly, I pick it up, wanting to know what he considers strong and neat, then knock it back. The liquid goes down silky smooth without any noticeable burn.
I give him a sweet smile to match the lovely aftertaste of the vodka lingering in my mouth. “Another one.”
This time, he doesn’t study me. He merely pours another shot.
I knock it back with my eyes on the bartender, forming a vague plan.
Stay until his shift ends.
&n
bsp; Leave my Maserati in the parking lot.
Seduce him.
I’ve never seduced anybody, but how hard can it be? Even if things don’t go the way I want, there won’t be any “we might run into each other in an awkward way” consequences.
