Page 26 of City Of Thieves

“But sir, I’m meant to drive you to—”

I palm my forehead in frustration.I don’t have time for this shit.“Are you aware of my last name?”

A rhetorical question, but he answers anyway.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you’re also aware that those who bear it don’t appreciate their orders being questioned.” As the man stands wide-eyed and open mouthed, I walk a slow circle around the car, inspecting every part, from the hood to the trunk. “Are we clear?”

He swallows. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Good.” Giving the undercarriage another thorough scan, I climb to my feet.

Harold’s hand shakes as he drops the keys into my waiting palm. The moment the transfer is made, he turns on his shiny black shoes and hurries toward the terminal.

Tatiana’s eyes are all over me as I round the car and pop the trunk. I’m in no mood for another argument, so after throwing my bag inside, I tug hers off her shoulder and toss it in next to mine.

She stands there like a damn statue as I circle back around to the driver’s side. Leaning forward, I brace my forearms on the hood. “If you’re waiting for me to open the door for you, then don’t. I reserve chivalry for “someone whose company I can actually stomach,” I say, slinging her words back at her.

Giving me another of her scornful looks, she moves gracefully around to the passenger’s side door and flings it open so hard it swings back like a boomerang.

“Was that necessary?” she admonishes, as I slide into the seat next to her.

Shrugging, I start the car. “Your words, not mine.”

“I meant dismissing the driver like that. I’m not thrilled at the thought of being trapped in a car with you without third party intervention.”

“Don’t trust yourself to be alone with me?” I taunt, exiting airport security and heading toward signs for the M1 Motorway.

“Oh, I trust myself.” Tucking that proud chin in the air, that prickly tone returns as she adds, “I don’t, however, trustyou.”

“You shouldn’t trustanyone, Tatiana,” I warn, my voice dipping low. “First rule of survival: the deadliest bullet always comes from the friendliest face.”

Her stare never wavers. “Does that include you?”

“Everyone is a potential threat.”

Call it a warning. Call it our twisted reality. But if she’s as smart as she claims to be, she’ll listen to her instincts and run back to New York as fast as she can the minute this auction is over.

“Why were you checking for bombs back there?”

“Occupational hazard.”

“You think someone’s trying to kill you?”

“Second rule of survival.” I hold up two fingers. “Someone is always watching. Never let your guard down. Speaking of which…” I hold up a third and final finger. “Last rule: while we’re in London, you’re not going anywhere without me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She pulls her phone from her purse and starts tapping away.

My shoulders tense. “Who are you texting?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Everything you do while on my dime is my business,dolcezza.”

Her fingers tighten around her phone. “I told you not to call me that.”

“And I told you not to do anything in this city without my approval. It seems neither of us follows directions.”