Page 37 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

“We met on the plane.”

“Oh.” Arslan nods and then the realization settles in. His eyes widen. “You fucked her on the plane?”

“Yeah. Well, in the bathroom. I have some decency.”

“Barely,” he scoffs. “Holy shit. I can’t believe the accountant had it in her.”

Something about the way he says “accountant” feels like an insult. But Belle is different from the long string of interchangeable accountants who have audited us in the past. All of them were willing to roll over for far less than the ten grand I offered her, but Belle barely even flinched before refusing. Matter of fact, she pushed back. She brought the police to my office and tried to steal my car.

The girl has guts.

“That’s because you don’t know her yet.”

“And you do?”

I can tell by the look in Arslan’s eyes that he’s suggesting something. Something I don’t want to encourage.

“She’s a fighter. That’s all I meant.”

He wags his eyebrows. “She likes it rough, then?”

“Fuck off,” I growl.

Arslan laughs and holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, mate. I can see you’re feeling possessive. Don’t worry, the accountant is all yours.”

“She isn’t mine. The only thing I want from her is an audit free of discrepancies. As soon as I have that, she can leave.”

The sooner, the better.

Because she did bring the police into my office and nearly stole my fucking car. The woman is fiery. Between the two of us, things could be explosive. And I don’t have time for that.

“But you might as well enjoy her until then, right?” Arslan prods.

I roll my eyes, but somewhere in the back of my mind, the idea takes hold. The image of Belle pressed against my office door, skirt hiked up over her hips. Of her sprawled naked across the leather backseat of my car, the air heating with the steam of her breath.

After the tension between us last night, I went home and jerked off twice. Even now, my dick is hard at the simple thought of her. I feel like a teenager again.

“Shit, man,” Arslan chuckles. “You’re into her.”

“No, I’d like to be in her,” I clarify. “There’s a very big difference.”

But usually, being in her once would have been more than enough. My brain’s singular focus on the girl is a little outside the norm. But it’s nothing to worry about. Nothing that can’t be fixed with a round two, anyway.

I wave Arslan out of my office. “Go on. I have work to do.”

“By ‘work,’ do you mean ‘an accountant to do’?”

“Fuck off,” I say again.

Arslan leaves, laughing all the way.

* * *

I avoid the conference room where Belle is working all day. Partly because I’m busy and partly because I like the idea of leaving her on the hook for a while.

I’m sure she expected me to be lording over her, watching her every move. I like the idea that she spent the day peeking over her shoulder like I’m the boogeyman hiding in the shadows.

But when I do finally round the corner to the glass-encased conference room in the middle of our floor, Belle isn’t looking over her shoulder. She’s talking on the phone.

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