‘So what you’re saying is the fight game isn’t appealing to soccer moms?’ said Liam dismissively.
‘What I’m saying is you’ve got a problem with a thug image, and if you’re serious about changing that you need to leave the theatricality in the ring and think about projecting the reality of the business, which is professional athletes engaged in highly staged combat.’
‘You wouldn’t consider coming and working for us, Clementine?’
‘Why, Alex …’ she looked at Serge over the rim of her glass ‘… I thought you’d never ask.’
Serge had watched the guys, one after another, follow Clementine into the kitchen and the hairs had gone up on the back of his neck.
It was macho posturing. Clementine could take care of herself. But he’d told himself he would just check up on her—he’d do the same for any other woman he was with. There were a lot of men in the house, and for all Clementine’s confidence it wouldn’t be easy for a woman to handle.
Yet here she was, one hand on an outswung hip, telling Alex exactly how he needed to run his publicity machine.
A dark voice prodded him. What had he expected? Her to suddenly go all shy and play the role of his girlfriend? He reminded himself he didn’t want that. He wanted the sexy girl with no ties. Well, look—he was getting it. In spades.
Provocative. Used to male attention.
It was how she got through life. She’d told him as much but he’d never actually seen it in action.
This was a woman who had survived on her own since she was a teenager. She was tougher than she looked, than she seemed when he had her wild and pinned under him.
She looked up at that moment and caught sight of him, and he actually saw some of the tension he hadn’t noticed in her body leave her. Every male protective instinct in his body stood on end. She finished her little spiel and sipped her wine and met his eyes.
And because of it he moved in to stake his claim.
‘Poaching my secret weapon, Aleksandr?’ Serge didn’t take his eyes off her as he spoke.
Alex grinned, and all the guys stirred like cattle sensing a stampede. Liam O’Loughlin was already edging his way out through the other door.
Yeah, back off. Serge couldn’t believe how proprietorial he was feeling.
‘She should have been sitting in there, cutting our job in half,’ said Alex, looking genuinely impressed.
‘Just offering a few suggestions,’ Clementine said sweetly.
Alex picked up his drink. ‘There’s a job offer on the table. Think about it, Clementine.’ He gave Serge a conspiratorial nod. ‘Serge has got my number.’
Clementine eyed him cautiously when they were alone, as well she might, but he merely said, ‘Keeping me on my toes, kisa?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yeah, you do.’
She tensed. ‘What’s the problem, Serge? Surprised I’ve got a brain?’
‘I’m well aware of your intelligence, kisa. It’s how you work the room, your entirely female skills I’m referring to.’
For a moment she looked blank, and then his meaning dropped into place. ‘You haven’t complained before,’ she said stiffly.
‘It was directed at me.’ A dark demon was driving him. ‘I get that you’re a friendly girl, kisa, but I don’t appreciate you showering it around.’
Suddenly the hard shell was gone, and all he could see was the utter shock on her face and the flutter of confusion in her eyes before she shut down.
‘Okay—fine. Whatever.’ She pushed the plates towards him, her hands visibly beginning to shake. ‘Here—I’ve made this for your guests. There should be a delivery of groceries around four.’ She knocked over a glass bottle as she bumped against the bench in her haste to get away from him. Righting it, she mumbled, ‘I got those awful herrings for you—more fool me.’
For a few moments Serge didn’t move. He didn’t know what was going on between them. He didn’t understand why seeing her surrounded by other admiring men had made him so damn jealous that he couldn’t see straight. He didn’t even understand why he’d left her this morning.
The herrings brought him up short for a second too. She was shopping for him?
Then he noticed for the first time the tremble in her body, her refusal to look at him. He took hold of her arm. ‘Clementine.’
She swung around, and for a moment he thought she was going to hit him, but she merely yanked her arm away and he let her.
‘Don’t worry, Serge,’ she said sharply. ‘I won’t be turning up at your gigs any more. I know my place. I’ve got it pretty clear now exactly where you see me in your life. If I didn’t get it before you’ve spelt it out now.’