The woman continues to smile at me, as if she is completely un-worried. “I know exactly who you are, Mr. Valinov.” She steps in again, coming toe to toe with me as her eyes narrow. “But who you are doesn’t matter here. The world inside these walls is mine, which means I’m responsible for the safety of everyone in here.” Her smile slips and her expression hardens. “You threatened one of my girls and I don’t appreciate or tolerate that kind of behavior.”
“I didn’t threaten her.” I intended to, but somehow never made it that far.
The woman’s blonde brows barely lift. “Then what would you call putting your hand around her neck?”
It’s not a moment I want to reflect on right now, especially since the memory of pinning Duchess in place, her long body pressed to mine, has my dick hardening almost immediately, just like it did last night.
But the woman in front of me technically isn’t wrong. My hand on Duchess’s neck was intended to be a threat.
Initially.
“Foreplay.” I offer the explanation as I tuck the offending hand into my pocket to avoid the temptation to rub my fingers together as I remember how soft her skin was. How fast her pulse raced under my thumb as she took short shallow breaths, terrified each would be her last.
And yet she never cowered. Never flinched.
Never gave into the fear I know tried to take her down.
“Foreplay?” The blonde doesn’t believe me at all, which is fine.
I’m done with her anyway.
I step around her and turn my attention back to the club. “Is the main floor off limits to me as well?”
“Not as long as you behave yourself.” She barely tips her head and one of the large men keeping the bad behavers in line focuses on me.
“I’ll go find myself a table then.” I only make it two steps before the woman calls out to me.
“Mr. Valinov.” She waits until I glance her way. “I will throw you out.” Her smile returns. “And I won’t think twice about it.”
I hold her eyes a second longer, expecting her to look away.
She doesn’t.
This woman is willing to risk herself to protect the women who work for her. It’s stupid. Arrogant.
And possibly the reason I decide to turn away and focus my attention on the servers winding between tables filled with men of all ages. It takes me less than a second to find the one I’m hunting.
Duchess stands out in here like a patch of blue sky on a cloudy day and I immediately move toward her, scanning the tables to decide which ones are assigned to her. I settle on a narrow booth at the farthest edge of her domain and stare down its current occupants. “I need this table.”
The group of college-age kids look at me like I’ve lost my mind. The one who thinks he’s their ringleader scoffs. “We waited in line an hour for this table, asshole. You’ve got to wait your turn.”
I step forward, excited at the prospect of taking out some of the frustration that’s been building since I found out Frederick is actively taking steps to unseat me, but the bouncer from before immediately steps in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.
Playing by someone else’s rules isn’t anything I make a habit of and normally I would walk out, making it clear this place and everyone inside it would pay for the slight.
But then I wouldn’t have the opportunity to find out why Duchess didn’t do what I told her to.
Because it seems she doesn’t realize I’m someone she should obey.
I rock my head from side to side, stretching out the tension creeping into my shoulders, then I turn and grab the first empty chair I see, dragging it to a shadowy corner before sitting down.
I wait, watching Duchess while the bouncer watches me. She has to know I’m here, but her eyes never come my direction as she gives soft smiles to the men attempting to seduce her into leaving with them.
As if they’d know what to do with her if they succeeded.
They would probably fumble their way through a lackluster performance that focused mainly on their own mediocre dick.
Which would be a shame considering what I already know about the woman who still hasn’t so much as breathed my way.