Oh, fuck.
“Isabella.” The cold, oily voice sent a thousand invisible insects skittering over my skin. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”
“Thank you.” My smile was tight enough to double as a Victorian-era corset. “What can I get for you, Mr. Black?”
Victor Black assessed me with those flat dark eyes. He was the CEO of Black & Co., a media company whose tabloids made the National Enquirer look like Pulitzer material. He technically belonged to Valhalla’s D.C. chapter, but he visited New York often. Unfortunately.
“Sex on the Beach.” A grin snaked across his face. The army of insects bred and multiplied. “My favorite.”
“Coming right up.” I ignored the obvious double entendre and went to work making the drink. The sooner I finished, the sooner I could get away from him.
Late thirties, slicked-back hair, flashy clothes. Victor was objectively decent-looking, but something about him always gave me the creeps. Maybe it was the way he looked at me like he was envisioning the dirtiest things he could get away with doing to me, or maybe it was the relentless come-ons despite my obvious disinterest.
Tessa sent me a sympathetic look from down the bar. She knew how much I disliked him, but he always insisted on having me serve him when he was here, so there was nothing she could do.
“What are your plans for this weekend?” Victor asked. “I’m in town until Monday, and I know of a few interesting events coming up.”
I’m sure you do. I bet they involved little to no clothes and high hopes for his overeager dick.
“I’m working,” I said, which was the truth. I got the best tips on the weekends, so I always said yes to Fridays and Saturdays.
“I’m sure you could take a night or two off.”
My smile could’ve frozen the inside of a volcano as I handed him his drink. “Unfortunately, I have bills to pay, so no, I can’t.” It was as rude as I allowed myself to be toward a club member. Most of them were petty and egotistical enough to get someone fired because of a “bad attitude,” including Victor.
“There are other ways to pay your bills.” Victor deliberately brushed my hand when he took the glass from me. A shiver of disgust ran down my spine. “For example, I can be quite generous in certain situations.”
His meaning was clear.
Waves of nausea tossed in my stomach like a ship during a storm. I would rather fucking die than ever let Victor Black put his hands on me.
“Thank you for the thought, but as I’m sure you know, fraternization between members and employees is a flagrant violation of Valhalla’s rules.” My frosty reply contrasted with the anger simmering in my veins. I wished I could toss the nearest drink in his face or, better yet, slap him so hard it knocked the slimy thoughts right out of his head, but like I said, I had bills to pay and a job to keep. “Now, if that’s all, I have other customers who require my attention.”
I only made it two steps when his hand latched around my wrist.
The nausea intensified, coupled with a surge of adrenaline that pounded in my ears. It took every ounce of willpower not to deck him in the face with my free hand.
“Rules don’t apply to me,” Victor said casually, as if he weren’t holding me hostage in a room full of witnesses. Arrogance gleamed bright and cold in his eyes. “I can—”
“Let her go, Victor.” A familiar smooth, aristocratic voice sliced through my tension like a freshly honed blade through silk. “It’s unbecoming to manhandle someone, even for you.”
Victor’s face darkened, but he wasn’t stupid enough to cause a scene with another member. He dropped my hand and turned.
Kai stood behind him, tie pin-straight, handkerchief crisply folded in his jacket pocket, and eyes diamond-hard as they pinned the other man against his seat.
Warmth rushed to the pit of my stomach, erasing some of my disgust at Victor’s touch.
“It’s nice to see you taking advantage of our intraclub network,” Kai said, his voice deceptively pleasant despite the quiet fury rolling off him in waves. “But I would be remiss not to remind you of our no-harassment policy. Violate it, and your network access will be terminated. Violate it with the wrong person, and you’ll be permanently banned from Valhalla.” A polite smile, colder than the northernmost reaches of the Arctic. “You know what happens to excommunicated members, don’t you?”
Victor’s lips thinned. I didn’t know what happened to excommunicated members, but the threat was enough to quiet him despite the murderous resentment brimming in his eyes.
“Perhaps you should take a breather elsewhere in the club.” Kai smoothed a hand over his tie.
“There’s a lovely jazz performance happening in the music lounge.”
I didn’t relax until Victor disappeared through the exit, leaving a trail of choked bitterness in his wake.
Kai took his vacated seat. A buzz sparked in the air, and my heart twisted into a position that would’ve made my old yoga teacher proud.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Most people would take the rich, powerful person’s side even if they were in the wrong. Others would simply turn a blind eye, especially for something as “small” as a wrist grab. I was female, a minority, and an employee. I held the least amount of power in situations like the one with Victor, and while what Kai did was the bare minimum in some respects, the sad truth was that a majority couldn’t even do that.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kai said, his tone mild. “I simply reminded him of the club rules, per my duty as a member of the managing committee.”
A smile edged onto my lips. “Taxing work.”
“Positively grueling. But I try my best.”
“So grueling you missed your standing appointment here last Thursday?” The words fell out of their own accord. I wished I could snatch them back the instant they left my mouth, but it was too late.
The remnants of Kai’s stony expression melted, revealing a flicker of warm pleasure that had my toes curling in my boots.
“Keeping tabs on me again, Isabella?”
The velvety way he said my name was almost indecent, conjuring images of lazy afternoons and silken sheets. Of hands sliding up my thighs and kisses trailing down my neck, his mouth doing wicked things to my body while he thrust inside me. Over and over, until— Fuck.
Heat ignited between my thighs. My fingers curled around the counter, but I shrugged off his question and forced myself not to break his knowing stare. “Only so I can avoid you. Anyone who translates classics into Latin for fun terrifies me.”
A laugh crinkled the corners of his eyes, and my pulse jumped in response. It was turning into a Pavlovian situation at this point. Anytime Kai did something, my traitorous body reacted like it’d been struck by lightning.
“I’m happy to report there’ll be no translations today, but if it makes you feel better, I work on genre fiction too. I translated a Nora Roberts novel once. It was a refreshing change of pace.”
“It doesn’t, but thank you for that detail. Come back to me when you’ve translated dinosaur erotica.”
Kai blinked. “I’m sorry?”