Love Thy Enemy (Red Stone Security #13)(2)

“She is not for you,” Abram murmured next to him.

He blinked and realized he’d been staring again and that he and Abram were alone once more. Hollis must have left, thank f*ck. If Viktor hadn’t just invested in a new restaurant—that had a big display here tonight—he wouldn’t even be here at the Celebration of Chefs. “Who?”

“Don’t pretend. You and half the men here tonight are watching her. She works for Red Stone, I hear. She’s not for you.” Abram shook his head. “That kind of woman…she wouldn’t look twice at men like us.”

Viktor just grunted, dismissing his brother’s words. The owners of Red Stone were f*cking Boy Scouts and the people they hired were the same. That didn’t mean he couldn’t speak to the woman. Talking was harmless.

Mesmerized, he drank in the sweet lines of her body as she waved at a friend and said goodbye to the people she was talking to. When he saw her headed to speak to a couple he knew—the man, anyway—he straightened.

In her heels she was over six feet tall, a virtual goddess. Most women with that much height would choose to wear shorter heels, but she clearly owned who she was. He could see it in every confident step she took. Those curves were enough to make a man want to lock a woman down for a marathon of sex. And a woman who looked like that—he didn’t think any sane man would want to let her go.

If she truly worked for Red Stone, it was…annoying. Maybe she was a former spook like the founder and one of his sons. She was young though, under thirty. Maybe even closer to twenty-five. It was difficult to tell.

When Rhys Maxwell, one of the people she’d been talking to, broke away from her and another woman, Viktor headed in Rhys’s direction. He stopped next to the British businessman at a display of champagne glasses.

“Maxwell,” he murmured, nodding politely.

The other man smiled, nodded. “Ivanov. Surprised you’re here. Thought you hated stuff like this.”

“Just bought a restaurant.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Maxwell’s gaze turned back to the two women, his interest in the shorter brunette clear. Unfortunately for Maxwell, Viktor was fairly certain the woman didn’t plan on sleeping with him. He was good at reading people and her body language screamed she wasn’t interested.

“Is that the same woman you brought to the last event?”

Maxwell turned to look at him, his expression turning slightly possessive. “Yes.”

“Who is her friend?” The words came out harsher than he’d intended, but he wanted to know.

Maxwell blinked, seemed to relax at the question. “Ah, one of Raegan’s friends. They work together.” He tilted his head in their direction. “I’ll introduce you.”

A burst of anticipation hummed through him as they headed over, but as they started walking, the blonde darted away and into the crowd, moving with clear purpose. He was surprised by the disappointment that slid through his veins.

As they reached the brunette, he said, “Who is your friend?” The question came out demanding and he had to remind himself about those stupid social niceties, to act normal.

Maxwell cleared his throat, looked slightly annoyed at him. “Ah, Viktor, this is Raegan. She works for Red Stone Security. I believe you have some acquaintances in common.”

He turned to look fully at the woman. She had an innocent quality to her and he could see he frightened her. Or at least made her nervous. He did that a lot to people without meaning to. It was his size. He was six foot five and big all over. He hid most of his tattoos, but some still peeked out and he couldn’t do anything about the ones on the backs of his hands. Not that he gave a shit what people thought of him. Hell, most of the time he used his size and appearance to his advantage, especially in business. But he didn’t want to frighten random women.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled politely, held out a hand and was careful to shake her smaller hand gently.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” There was a wariness in her gaze as she eyed him before she dropped his hand and turned to her date. “Will you give me a few minutes?” she murmured to Maxwell.

Viktor’s business acquaintance gave her a soft smile. “Of course.”

Once she’d disappeared into the crowd as well, he turned back to Maxwell. “She doesn’t seem like your type.” Much too innocent and soft. And if the rumors were true, Maxwell had a darker side to him, liked rougher sex.

“She’s just a friend,” Maxwell said through gritted teeth.

Ah, so she was definitely not sleeping with him.

“She’s Keith Caldwell’s niece,” Maxwell added.

Well that was interesting. He made a note to find out more about her. Anyone related to the Caldwells would be important enough to keep on his radar. Especially since Harrison Caldwell owed Viktor a favor. One he’d been sitting on for many years. Frowning, he wondered if she was the woman Porter Caldwell had contacted him about—the one who’d been drugged at one of Viktor’s clubs. He dismissed the thought for now. He’d see when he reviewed the video footage.

“Who is the blonde she was talking to?” There was no point in pretending he didn’t want to know. Not when he was certain Maxwell had figured out the only reason he’d approached the Brit was for an introduction. Even if they had mutual acquaintances, they weren’t friends and didn’t move in the same social circles.