“Well shit,” I said, throwing my door open so suddenly that it hit him in the gut and made him double over with a wheeze of pain while I stepped outa the car. “Don’t go sneaking up on a fella like that.”
Another bodyguard type fella stepped forward, his gaze lowering to my hands like he was expecting me to pull a weapon.
“The lady is waiting inside,” he growled, seeming offended by my lack of haste and I had to assume they’d been standing out here the whole time I’d been sitting in my car. Probably a good thing I hadn’t started jerking off into my cup holder in that case, but my cock was still sad about it as it slowly began to give up on its quest for satisfaction and deflate.
“Well, we can’t be having that, can we?” I asked brightly as I swerved him and headed for the entrance.
“We ask that you go in unarmed,” the bodyguard man called after me and I shrugged, opening my arms wide to allow him to check me. I wasn’t carrying a single thing because I knew it would have made it too tempting to kill my family members earlier on, so it didn’t take him long to usher me inside.
The hotel was eerily quiet, the lockdown on the country preventing the usual hustle and bustle. I walked in silence into the restaurant set beyond the bar, finding all but one of the mahogany tables empty.
Anastasia sat there waiting for me, her long, blonde hair all coiled up on top of her head and a silver scrap of fabric which I guessed passed for a dress clinging to her body.
“Niall,” she purred as I closed in on her and nodded.
“Glove.” She still hadn’t even noticed I addressed her as if she were winter handwear instead of using an endearment, and I was all giggly over the fact, so I even managed to give her a smile.
“It’s good to see you,” she said, giving me a heated look.
I didn’t reply to that, placing my jaw against her cold cheek in an imitation of a kiss as she stood and damn near forced it against my lips by trying to turn her head into it. I dropped into my seat and man spread myself until I was comfortable.
“I took the initiative and ordered for us, I hope you don’t mind?” Anastasia asked, crossing her legs and smiling at me with her deep red lips.
“So long as it comes with whiskey, I’m game,” I agreed, looking towards the lone waiter in the room and arching a brow to let him know I wasn’t in the mood to wait on that drink.
He hurried to comply, grabbing a fancy decanter and whiskey tumbler before heading over to me.
“Ice?” he inquired as he set the glass down and held the decanter ready to pour, but I just reached out and took it from him.
“No need,” I said. “And you can leave this here – I’m feeling inclined to get shit-faced.”
He glanced at Anastasia who nodded once, encouraging him to leave me with my decanter, and I poured myself a healthy measure before knocking the entire contents of my glass back and refilling it once more.
“My father tells me that you are close to securing the position as head of your organisation after your own father’s death,” she said, apparently in no mood for bullshit today which I was glad for.
“I wouldn’t hold too much stock by anything my pa says on that subject,” I replied. “He likes to use that possibility to keep his children in line and working hard for his approval.”
“I know this,” she agreed. “But I also know that he has plenty of reason to select you for the role and I intend to help you give him more.”
“You want to help me take my father’s place as head of the Irish mob?” I asked, sinking another whiskey because her company was sending me towards the dark place once more as I pictured us married and the reality that presented to me.
“Of course. I made it clear to you already that I am a woman who gets what she wants.”
Food arrived, offering me a reprieve from replying to her and I looked to my plate, eyeing the fancy pasta stuff and trying to decide if I was going to eat or not. Avoiding the food would give the booze a faster journey to getting me wasted so I had good reason not to, but it did smell nice.
I glanced up at Anastasia just as she dropped a pill into my drink, her eyes flashing with fear as she realised I’d seen whatever the fuck that was and I arched a brow at her.
“Well, well,” I said slowly, reaching out to take my over full glass of whiskey into my grip and looking into it as the little white pill bubbled and dissolved before my very eyes. “Look who’s playing dirty tonight.”
To her credit, Anastasia just lifted her chin. “It won’t kill you,” she said defiantly, not bothering to deny what she’d done, and I hummed thoughtfully.
“No. Even the Russians aren’t fool enough to try and kill an O’Brien so obviously.”
That left the question of what exactly it was that she had been trying to dose me with. I cocked my head at her, taking her in and trying to decide what she was capable of. Not rape – she was far too vain for that. So she wouldn’t be looking to dose me with some form of date rape drug to get me senseless beneath her while she rode my cock. No…
I really was confident that she wouldn’t be dumb enough to try and cause me harm. So that had to leave mood enhancers on the table. Valium maybe. Ecstasy. Something to put me in a better mood and make me more interested in her and her agenda I’d bet.
Anastasia watched me warily, clearly expecting me to lose my temper, but I wasn’t that kind of predictable arsehole.
I gave her a wide smile, lifted the glass to my lips and drank down every drop.
Anastasia sucked in a sharp breath, her pupils dilating with unmistakable desire and I banged the glass down on the table with a bark of laughter.
“Let’s see if your little pill gets what you’re hoping for outa me then,” I said in a dangerous tone. “But I warn ya, missy – I don’t tend to have the expected reactions to recreational drugs. They can make me all kinds of unpredictable and violent and I’ll be holding you responsible for anything I may or may not do while under the influence of whatever the fuck it is you thought would be such a clever thing to offer me. You wanted to play this game. So let’s play.”
“Let’s play,” she agreed, raising her glass and I refilled mine before clinking it to hers and sinking the lot again. No one ever said it was a bad idea to mix drugs and alcohol. Right?
I picked up my fork and speared some fancy little pasta pocket onto it, concentrating on my food while Anastasia took the opportunity to fill the silence. I had to say, this was the only kinda pasta that had the right to claim it was different to all the others. Penne, fettuccini, macaroni, tortellini, rigatoni, spaghetti. You could string as many fancy letters together as you liked Mr Italiano, but I wasn’t fooled into thinking that made any of those pastas worthy of their flouncy titles. There was only one thing different about them and that was their shape, but they all tasted and looked the same once they were chewed up in my mouth, didn’t they? It didn’t matter if they were in a twirly whirly coil or posing as a piece of string, I wasn’t falling for the con the rest of the world was falling for while Italy laughed at us all behind a piece of bruschetta.
Apparently, Anastasia had decided to make this soiree into a sales pitch, using it to tell me all manner of things about herself and her capabilities. She was smart. Had gone to law school and had studied accountancy too which let me know she was helpful for any time that I might find myself in need of a loophole in the law to get me out of a sticky situation or a solution to any tricky monetary paper trails my businesses had to deal with.