Page 28
Story: The Gentleman
No-one there.
She hurried out the door and down flights of concrete stairs, Leo’s footsteps at her heel.
The Jaguar was straight ahead.
The wet night air dampened her face as he caught hold of her elbow and frog marched her right past the Jag.
Wait. What?She twisted. “Leonid. What?—”
His hold on her was iron hard.
“This has gone far enough.” He propelled her forward.
Kat struggled, but his hand might as well have been glued to her arm. “Leonid. The car.” She jerked against him. “What the hell are you doing?”
Leo’s face was blank. “Making this simple.”
A motorbike horn beeped. She pivoted away from the Jag. A powder blue scooter parked across the street flashed its orange hazard lights.
His stern expression unexpectedly cracked as he dangled a set of keys in front of her. “Our ride awaits.”
She glanced up. Light still shone from the windows of Jane’s fourth floor flat. “Are those?—”
His fingers were warm against her neck as he secured the helmet under her chin.
“Kat. Get on the bike.” His touch was gentle, but there was steel in his voice.
Kat gaped at him. “You stole her bike keys? When did you even?—”
He climbed on the bike and cranked the ignition. “Technically, it’s borrowing. Or swapping. I left my keys to the Jag as collateral.”
The bike engine buzzed to life—like a bluebottle trapped in a jar.
In what world wasthisa better option than the Jag?
“Leonid—”
“Kat. I told you. Get on.”
“But the Jag. This thing has a hairdryer for an engine?—”
Leo’s shoulders stiffened. He turned to face her, his eyes narrowed to glacial slits, the scar across his eye whitening as his jaw flexed.
“Kat.” His voice dropped to a dangerous register that somehow cut through the engine’s noise and made her stomach flip. “Don’t make meputyou on the bike.”
He patted the seat, his voice far too calm. “Right now, every police officer in London is looking for a Jaguar XF withthoseplates.” His gaze snapped past her to the Jag. “Not a powder-blue scooter carrying a middle-aged couple, mid-domestic.Now. Get on the fucking bike.”
“We’re not?—“
“What?” The green of his eyes darkened—cobalt swallowing the light.
A couple.
The words stuck in her throat like broken glass.
“Nothing.” God. What was she thinking? Her world was falling apart and all she could focus on was the magnetic pull between them.
She swung onto the moped, arms circling his waist. Her training kicked in—exposed position, limited speed, powder blue color that screamedlook at us!
Table of Contents
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- Page 28 (Reading here)
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