Page 42 of Single Malt

Or so I’d thought fifteen minutes ago when we’d settled at our table.

“So, she’s not your sister?” he asked before taking a drink of his wine.

“Of course not,” Karina answered for us both. Considering he hadn’t addressed either one of us specifically, I was happy to let her talk. “I am a student, and Freedom helps me with my English when I need it.”

“Are you an early admission?” He gave her a smile that managed to be half-charming and half-smarmy.

It suddenly hit me that he was trying to figure out how old she was.

Shit.

“No.” She smiled at him. “My parents insisted I start at home as I did not turn eighteen until October.”

“Well then, let me give you a belatedhappy birthday.”

Karina giggled and batted her eyelashes.

I’ve never actually seen anyone do that before, and I had no desire to see her do it again, particularly when it was directed at a man in his thirties. If she wanted to flirt with her classmates or even some of the boorish frat boys I’d seen her dancing with the other night, that was one thing. This guy was something else entirely.

“So, Dr. Worthington,” at his look, I corrected myself, “sorry, Korbin. What are you on to next after you’re finished here?”

Best to remind her that he wasn’t sticking around. And if I had to call him by his first name to divert his attention from her, it was a small price to pay. No price, actually, because it didn’t cost me anything. He might’ve thought it meant he was getting to me, and I didn’t actually care what he thought.

“Well, Freedom, I’m going to be devoting a portion of my time here on the west coast to reconnoitering potential business ventures. Los Angeles as well as San Francisco, and at some point, up to wine country. My family is forever considering fresh ways to invest in our burgeoning economy.”

I had a healthy vocabulary and had been accused on more than one occasion of using words I needed to explain. Korbin, however, sounded like he was trying to pick some of the most pretentious words possible in order to make himself appear more intelligent or widely read than he was. It was different enough from how he’d spoken before that I could tell it wasn’t natural.

Well, that and the fact that some of his word choices were just a little off. Like he’d gone through a thesaurus and chosen words at random without bothering to check if they meant what he wanted to say. He also sounded like he was repeating something someone else had written. Something he was supposed to say if he was asked what he was doing so far from home.

It made me wonder if he wasn’t here on a completely voluntary basis. My parents moved in high society circles enough for me to know that a favorite way of dealing with problem children, no matter the age, was to send them away while whatever scandal they’d involved themselves in faded.

I didn’t comment on any of that, though. Besides the fact that it wasn’t any of my business, he wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter. We were halfway through lunch already, and since Karina had already heard his lecture, it shouldn’t be too hard to convince her to stay away during the time he had left here. If he wanted a co-ed in his bed, he wouldn’t need to look too hard. There were plenty of female students who’d easily fall for that smile of his. He didn’t strike me as the sort of man who actually enjoyed a challenge.

“Will you meet actors in Hollywood?” Karina asked.

When he didn’t answer right away, she began to tell him about her favorite actors, a non-stop litany of who she thought was the best looking and the most talented. Non-stop until she suddenly announced that she needed to use the restroom and sauntered away, leaving Korbin and me sitting at the table alone.

He leaned across the table, and I mentally prepared myself for whatever disparaging and condescending comment he was about to make.

What came out of his mouth next, however, was absolutely nothing I could have dreamed up. It was too…bizarre.

“I’m going to call ahead to my hotel to have some champagne sent up to the room. Karina’s European, so she can have alcohol even though she’s not twenty-one, right?”

I blinked at him, wondering what the hell he was asking. Still, I kept my response polite. “Pardon?”

He grinned and reached out, his fingertips brushing mine. “What do you say the three of us head back to my room and have some fun?”

Hell. No.

He didnotjust suggest a threesome with an intoxicated teenager.

I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to call him out as a lecherous asshole. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He moved his hand, putting it over mine. “It’s all right if you don’t want to share me. I can make do with just you.”

I yanked my hand away and stuck it under the table, rubbing it on my leg as if that would get rid of the slimy feeling his touch elicited. “I’m not interested in anything you’re offering.”

His expression hardened, and all that charm went right out the window. “I know that’s not true. You want me to put in a good word for you with my uncle. Use my name as a reference. You want all that but don’t want to give anything in return.”