Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (6 page)

“So how much money did you earn tonight?” Werner asks, picking up his drink as his rat eyes flicker over her.

“Like I said, I did all right.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

He smirks. “Don’t be shy. You can tell me. We are all friends here. Is it more than you would earn out in the back alley giving blow jobs?”

She feels Giovanni stiffen beside her and wishes she had a drink she could throw at Werner. “Fuck off.”

He laughs as if this is the funniest joke in the world. “Something tells me you would make more money with the blow jobs!”

“You’re a disgusting maggot.”

“Hey, I’ll be your first customer!”

Suddenly, Giovanni slams his fist onto the table, startling her, and making Werner jump. “What in the hell is wrong with you?”

The rat blinks but doesn’t say anything as he stares at Giovanni with wide eyes.

“I’m not going to listen to you speak to her that way. You need to apologize!”

Lindsay’s brows go up, and she enjoys watching the rat squirm with distress. His eyes flash over to her. He hesitates, but then finally says, “I am sorry if I offended you.”

“You’re goddamn right it’s offensive,” Giovanni growls. “And it better not happen again.” He turns to Lindsay. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this place.”

They exit the casino into the warm night. Like always, there’s a long row of shiny Mercedes taxicabs lined up in front. Unlike a typical cab back in the States, the ones in Berlin are clean and comfortable inside.

She follows Giovanni to a brown Mercedes still thinking about the way he ripped into Werner. What a wonderful display. The driver holds the door open for them so they can both climb into the back. Lindsay figures they’ll drop her off first, but when the driver asks where they’re going, Giovanni tells him, “The Regent.”

“What? I appreciate what you did back there, but I’m not going to your hotel with you.”

“Yes, you are.” He leans back in the seat as the cab starts moving and closes his eyes for a moment. “And don’t bother arguing. I don’t want to listen to it right now.”

She bites her lip. She still has to make sure he doesn’t tell Anthony about her playing poker tonight. “Listen, how often do you talk to your brother?”

“You need to get some new friends,” he says, ignoring her question. “That guy is a serious douche bag.”

“Are you kidding? That piece of rat shit isn’t my friend!”

“Not to mention the other one I had to punch earlier. Who the hell are these strange people you’ve hooked up with?”

She gives a laugh. “A better question might be who the hell are
you
? And what are you doing here?”

Of course he doesn’t answer her.

They’re sitting close to each other in the back of the cab, but she’s careful not to let any part of her body touch his. It’s not easy either. To her annoyance, her physical attraction to him is so strong it’s like fighting gravity.

The car radio plays bouncy Europop as they continue to drive through the city. The driver is talking to someone in German using the cab’s Bluetooth.

Her eyes go back to Giovanni. “You know, in this light, you almost look Italian.”

“I appreciate that.” He seems mildly amused, but when he turns to her, his expression changes. “You’re beautiful,” he says, studying her. “And it’s not just the light.”

“Thanks,” she murmurs but doesn’t say anything more, just turns to watch the traffic outside.

“Why is it every time I tell you you’re beautiful, you act insulted?”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not insulted.”

He considers her, nodding slowly. “I get it now. You must hear it a lot.”

“I suppose.” She shrugs. It’s not even vanity. The fact is most guys find her attractive. It’s always been like this. Men focus on her appearance, and nothing more.

“Get over yourself, Lindsay. You’re not
that
beautiful.”

“I’m not?”

“Remember who you’re talking to here.” His eyes roam her face, examining her, before he nods. “You could be improved upon.”

She blinks in amazement. “Wow, you’re a serious asshole. And I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s something that can
ever
be improved upon.”

“Maybe so, but at least I’ve given you a
real
reason to be insulted.”

She crosses her legs away from him. “If you’re trying to get me into bed again, you’re sure going about it the wrong way. This is like the
worst
seduction ever.”

He snickers.

“I could write a book about how bad this seduction is.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you. I already told you I didn’t come here to sleep with you again.”

“Then why are you hanging around?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You came all the way to Berlin to tell me how ugly I am?”

Giovanni gives a weary laugh and rubs his forehead. “God, what am I going to do with you?”

As he’s saying this, the cab slows down and she sees they’re pulling up in front of what must be his hotel. Everything’s lit up, and there are more taxis and people waiting out front. It’s the middle of the night, but Berlin is the city that never sleeps, which suits Lindsay just fine.

The cab driver turns around to tell them the meter amount and Giovanni digs his wallet out.

“I’m going back to my studio now,” she informs him. “I’ll pay my own cab fare.”

He hands the cab driver a credit card. “No, you’re coming inside with me.”

“I don’t think so.” She leans forward. “But the next time you talk to Anthony, would you mind not mentioning this evening to him, or at least not the part where I was playing poker?”

“Why?”

“It would be best all around.”

“We can talk about this more upstairs.” The cab driver hands the card back and Giovanni puts it in his wallet. He opens the car door to get out.

Lindsay doesn’t budge.

He leans in. “Look, if you want me to be an accomplice, I’m going to require an explanation.”

“There’s nothing to explain. And you’re not an accomplice.”

“It certainly sounds like I am. And unless you want me to call Anthony right now, I suggest you get out of this taxi.”

“Come on, Giovanni, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m already an asshole, remember?”

Giovanni lets his eyes slide down the back of Lindsay’s black jeans, which are currently doing incredible things for her ass. He enjoys women—way more than he should—but has to admit Lindsay is in a class by herself.

“I can’t believe I’m in another swanky hotel with you.” She turns to him in the elevator. “This is too much like the last time we were together.”

“It’s our destiny.”

“Hardly, and I’m not sleeping with you either. I’m only here to
talk
—that’s it.” Her brown eyes flicker with anger.

He doesn’t blame her for being pissed since he basically strong-armed her into coming inside with him.

I’m handling this all wrong.

Giovanni’s intention was to fly to Berlin and speak to Lindsay, hopefully convince her to go along with his plan—the situation he’s trying to help fix—but so far, he hasn’t had a chance. First, that crazy asshole in front of her building was there picking a fight with him. The next thing he knows they’re at a casino. Absentmindedly, he flexes his left hand, notices a little bruising still. He should have used his right, or better yet, not have hit him at all.
That was completely idiotic.

Before he flew out here, Anthony told him Lindsay was an artist, and that her lifestyle was unconventional, but he had no idea it was this severe.

“And you cost me a bunch of money tonight,” she’s still carrying on. “That was no favor you did me. I had four hundred euros in that pot.”

“You’re lucky I intervened.”

“I would have won that hand.”

He shakes his head. “Do you know who that guy was sitting next to you?”

The elevator doors open and he lets Lindsay walk out ahead of him. They head down the hall toward his room, the thick carpet nearly silent beneath their feet.

“Which one?”

“The Russian guy eyeing you like a steak dinner.”

“Are you kidding? That was nothing. I handle guys like that all time.”

They get to his room and he pulls his key card out to open the door. The nightstand lamp is on when they enter, and he sees the maid has turned down the bed. The room smells fresh like some kind of floral-scented cleaner.

Lindsay walks in and looks around with approval. “Dagmar was right. Ooh la la. This is very elegant.”

He doesn’t say anything. He barely even notices the room. It’s just another place to sleep as far as he’s concerned.

Lindsay’s of a different mind as she continues her exploration, taking it all in. His eyes follow her movements. Unfortunately, her body in those jeans is putting too many thoughts in his head, thoughts that shouldn’t be there. As much as she doesn’t believe him, he really didn’t bring her upstairs to try and seduce her.

She goes over to the large window, where the colorful lights of the city twinkle and glimmer outside. “Look at this magnificent view. I hope you’re not taking this for granted.”

He sits down on the bed, amazed he’d forgotten what powerful appeal she had. He remembers it all too well now. They’d met at a party a couple of years ago, right after his brother won a science award. The attraction between them was immediate and white-hot. He took her to a hotel downtown where they spent the night together. She was more than he expected in every way—sexy, fun, and beautiful. The elixir that helped bring him back from months of living on adrenaline, chasing away those demons. He’d needed her that night, and she’d been perfect.

He closes his eyes and tries to ground himself, still too keyed up. He hasn’t been sleeping well. The air-conditioned room feels surreal compared to the dry heat of central Africa.

In his mind, he still sees his colleagues back at the small hospital he left behind only a few days ago. The armed guards who drove them there every morning. A civil war raged, but both sides agreed to allow medical workers through unharmed. Unfortunately, the attacks grew closer every day.

It was never easy finding his way back from the constant rush of danger, the intensity of living on the edge.

“Did you notice that guy’s tattoo?” he asks her.

Lindsay turns back toward him from the window, thinking it over. “The one on his hand?”

“They all have that mark. He’s a Russian mercenary—part of a particularly vicious group.”

“I agree he was weird, but it was only a poker game. You don’t think maybe you’re overreacting?”

Images flash in his head of the time he spent in North Africa last year, some of the horrors he saw there. “Those guys don’t care who they harm.” His eyes drill into hers. “They’re paid killers who enjoy it. I’ve seen the damage they do firsthand.”

Lindsay grows quiet.

“I know you think I was being a dick, but I wasn’t. You don’t want to get on the radar of a guy like that, trust me.”

She nods. “Okay, maybe you were right.”

Giovanni lets his breath out, relieved she’s not going to give him a hard time about this anymore. He thinks about that mercenary. Sometimes, the laws that protect people are protecting the wrong ones.