Page 57 of Red Fury

The truth is, I’m not interested in Carla or any other woman in this place, which irritates the shit out of me.

“You look…uptight,” Webb observes, his expression growing serious. “Actually, you look angry. That’s not good, Damien. Kozlov will be here soon, and he’ll expect to see us having a good time. Relaxed. Enjoying his hospitality.”

“I guess I’m a little nervous,” I lie.

“Well, stop and have some fun, will you?”

Shit. Maybe Webb is right. If I keep broadcasting my mood like this, it could affect our business relationship with Kozlov. And right now, I need to gather as much intel as possible about those nuclear weapons.

I force myself to scan the crowd again, looking for any sign of our host. Still nothing.

Where the hell is he?

“You’re right,” I admit, sitting back in my chair, taking a drink of champagne.

“Good man.” Webb raises his glass again. “To loosening up and having some fun.”

We’re halfway through our second round of champagne when another woman approaches our table. A redhead with pale skin and freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her green dress is certainly figure-hugging.

“Mind if I join you?” she asks, her voice carrying a slight British accent that somehow makes everything sound more sophisticated.

“Please,” Webb says immediately, gesturing to an empty chair. “I’m Laurence, and this is Rob and Damien.”

“Lovely to meet you. I’m Bella.” She sits. “First time at Black Blood?” she asks me.

“That obvious?” Thompson asks with a self-deprecating laugh.

“The wonder in your eyes gives it away,” Bella replies with a warm smile. “But don’t worry; everyone has that look their first time here. Isn’t it great?”

Her attention shifts to me, and I can see the same interest I saw in Carla’s eyes. The same invitation.

I think about Webb’s warning about needing to appear relaxed and engaging. I think about the nuclear weapons and the mass genocide being planned for my people. I think about Shadow, probably sitting in her hotel room, hating my guts.

Then I force all of that aside and smile at Bella.

“It’s definitely impressive,” I say, leaning forward slightly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” she replies, her smile turning playful. “It only starts hotting up after midnight.”

I smile, working hard at appearing relaxed. “Sounds interesting.”

“Oh, it is.” She leans forward, giving me the perfect view of the tops of her breasts. I don’t take the bait.

“Do you live in Chicago?” I ask her.

“Nope, I’m here on business. Tonight is my last night in town, and I want to make it count.” She winks at me.

“Would you like some champagne?” I ask her, not wanting to delve any deeper into that particular line of conversation.

“That would be great.” She leans over and touches my arm. “You’re sweet, Damien. Tell me all about yourself…then maybe we could…um…dance.” She bites a glossy lip.

Somehow, I don’t think she’s referring to the kind of dancing fit for public consumption.

Shit!

I’m already regretting my decision to loosen up. Where the hell is Kozlov?

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