glittering darkly as he turned to Ash. “Follow her and apologize.”
“I’m the one who had a glass of champagne thrown over him.” Ash grimaced as he used his napkin to wipe the excess liquid from his face and the front of his dinner jacket. “Thanks.” He accepted the second napkin handed to him by the flustered maître d’ after he hurried over to their table. “That’s fine, thanks,” he dismissed the older man. “Nothing to see here,” he growled at the other diners gawking across at their table, glaring at them darkly until they all turned away to resume eating their meal or to talking softly under their breath.
Anastazia glared at Ash. “If you had spoken to me like that, I would have hit you over the head with the whole bottle, not just thrown a glass of champagne in your face. How dare you speak to my friend like that?”
“Go,” Alexandre instructed Ash tightly.
Ash sighed. “Is that my sometime employer speaking or my friend?”
“Both!”
The other man threw the wet napkin onto the table before rising slowly to his feet to glance across the restaurant where Lissa had disappeared. “Perhaps you might consider searching for my dead body in the morning.”
“If I find it, I’m more likely to trample on it,” Stazzi assured him, totally stunned by what had just happened. “Repeatedly,” she added with feeling.
Asher gave an unconcerned grin. “I have a feeling there may not be enough of me left in the morning to do that.”
“Good.” Stazzi glared at him as he nodded his good-bye before striding confidently toward the reception area. “I really should go after Lissa—”
“No. You really shouldn’t.” Alexandre’s hand on her arm prevented her from standing. “Give it a few minutes and then call her, by all means. But I doubt she will answer you, and I certainly wouldn’t advise following her.”
“Why not?”
He grimaced. “The sexual tension between Ash and Lissa was, is…explosive. So much so, I doubt they will get any further than Ash’s car before—well, before. The first time, at least.”
She gasped. “You’re wrong—”
“No, I assure you I’m not.” Alexandre turned in his seat, the length of his thigh now resting warmly against her own. “The fact Ash spoke of the morning, twice, tells me exactly what he and your friend will be doing tonight. All night.”
“Lissa hates him—”
“She wants him,” he corrected huskily, lifting a tress of her hair and curling it back behind her ear.
Was it possible? Stazzi wondered, still dazed by the way Lissa and Ash’s barbed conversation had exploded into such a violent verbal and then physical exchange.
Lissa had a temper, yes, but Stazzi couldn’t say she had ever seen her friend quite that agitated before.
“Ash wants her too,” Alexandre murmured, his breath warm against the ear he’d bared. “In the same way I want you.”
Every other thought went out of Stazzi’s head as she felt the sharp, arousing nip of his teeth against the lobe of her ear.
Chapter 6
Stazzi had no idea what she was doing sitting in the back of the limousine beside Alexandre, her hand held securely in his much larger one, as they were driven through the lamplit streets of London back to the Meyers Hotel. One of the bodyguards was sitting in the front with the driver, the other five following closely behind in a black SUV. Both vehicles had tinted windows so that no one could see the occupants.
Maybe part of the reason she had agreed to go back to the hotel with Alexandre was because she was still in shock?
Stazzi had done as he’d suggested and called Lissa instead of running after her. Three times. Each time, the call had gone to voice mail. Then she tried texting her friend, asking if Lissa wanted her to come home. Half a minute later she received the text back of “no.” Stazzi’s return of “why not” had eventually been answered with “not there.” She had almost been afraid to ask the next question
“I’m the one who had a glass of champagne thrown over him.” Ash grimaced as he used his napkin to wipe the excess liquid from his face and the front of his dinner jacket. “Thanks.” He accepted the second napkin handed to him by the flustered maître d’ after he hurried over to their table. “That’s fine, thanks,” he dismissed the older man. “Nothing to see here,” he growled at the other diners gawking across at their table, glaring at them darkly until they all turned away to resume eating their meal or to talking softly under their breath.
Anastazia glared at Ash. “If you had spoken to me like that, I would have hit you over the head with the whole bottle, not just thrown a glass of champagne in your face. How dare you speak to my friend like that?”
“Go,” Alexandre instructed Ash tightly.
Ash sighed. “Is that my sometime employer speaking or my friend?”
“Both!”
The other man threw the wet napkin onto the table before rising slowly to his feet to glance across the restaurant where Lissa had disappeared. “Perhaps you might consider searching for my dead body in the morning.”
“If I find it, I’m more likely to trample on it,” Stazzi assured him, totally stunned by what had just happened. “Repeatedly,” she added with feeling.
Asher gave an unconcerned grin. “I have a feeling there may not be enough of me left in the morning to do that.”
“Good.” Stazzi glared at him as he nodded his good-bye before striding confidently toward the reception area. “I really should go after Lissa—”
“No. You really shouldn’t.” Alexandre’s hand on her arm prevented her from standing. “Give it a few minutes and then call her, by all means. But I doubt she will answer you, and I certainly wouldn’t advise following her.”
“Why not?”
He grimaced. “The sexual tension between Ash and Lissa was, is…explosive. So much so, I doubt they will get any further than Ash’s car before—well, before. The first time, at least.”
She gasped. “You’re wrong—”
“No, I assure you I’m not.” Alexandre turned in his seat, the length of his thigh now resting warmly against her own. “The fact Ash spoke of the morning, twice, tells me exactly what he and your friend will be doing tonight. All night.”
“Lissa hates him—”
“She wants him,” he corrected huskily, lifting a tress of her hair and curling it back behind her ear.
Was it possible? Stazzi wondered, still dazed by the way Lissa and Ash’s barbed conversation had exploded into such a violent verbal and then physical exchange.
Lissa had a temper, yes, but Stazzi couldn’t say she had ever seen her friend quite that agitated before.
“Ash wants her too,” Alexandre murmured, his breath warm against the ear he’d bared. “In the same way I want you.”
Every other thought went out of Stazzi’s head as she felt the sharp, arousing nip of his teeth against the lobe of her ear.
Chapter 6
Stazzi had no idea what she was doing sitting in the back of the limousine beside Alexandre, her hand held securely in his much larger one, as they were driven through the lamplit streets of London back to the Meyers Hotel. One of the bodyguards was sitting in the front with the driver, the other five following closely behind in a black SUV. Both vehicles had tinted windows so that no one could see the occupants.
Maybe part of the reason she had agreed to go back to the hotel with Alexandre was because she was still in shock?
Stazzi had done as he’d suggested and called Lissa instead of running after her. Three times. Each time, the call had gone to voice mail. Then she tried texting her friend, asking if Lissa wanted her to come home. Half a minute later she received the text back of “no.” Stazzi’s return of “why not” had eventually been answered with “not there.” She had almost been afraid to ask the next question
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