Making Her His (Beating the Biker 1)
“I like to think that I contribute to the best of my ability.” It felt stupid talking about work while sitting in a pool. It all felt wrong. She tried to ignore the feeling.
“I’ve kept track of you and what you’ve done this past year. And I must say I’m impressed. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“You seem to know me pretty well.”
“Not in the way I’d like to.”
Chrissy moved so that the sun was out of her line of sight and when she looked into Drummond Walker’s eyes, she saw something there that was more than the interest of boss in young protégé.
She glanced around and realized Richard was nowhere to be seen. She was alone with the man who’d hired her, and who could fire her just as easily. It didn’t take much to figure she was lured here with a false promise so Drummond could make a move on her.
Oh no. Oh hell no. She put a cap on her incipient rage and hauled herself out of the water.
“Chrissy,” Drummond said. “Where’re you going?”
“You know, Mr. Walker, it’s getting late, and I have to meet my family. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go.”
“But we haven’t discussed your new job duties yet.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Drummond. I should’ve told you sooner; I’ve had another job offer. So, you can fuck yourself.” With that Chrissy gathered her clothes from the bungalow and slipped them over her wet bathing suit.
With tears stinging her eyes she fled the house of Drummond Walker, wondering how many bridges she could burn in one week.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“When’s this girl going to show up?” Saks groused. He leaned against the bar in a manner of which his cousins distinctly disapproved while tipping his beer bottle to his lips. He’d spent three hours listening to the extremely loud, lousy, live band, and nursed two beers waiting for the Serafina woman to arrive. Bad enough that he was pushed into showing up, but the woman had some nerve keeping him waiting. Who did she think she was? Some sort of princess?
Yeah, he thought. A Mafia princess. So, what did that make him?
A sucker.
If she didn’t show soon, he'd join his Hades’ Spawn brothers who came to the party. The Spawn held club night last night, so those who wanted to come to the Roccos’ rare party could. Oakie wasn’t here, but Spike, the VP came, and Luke promised to bounce in at around ten with Emily.
Saks made up his mind right then and there. No way was he getting pulled into marrying this woman.
He set his empty bottle on the counter a little too hard, drawing a sharp look from John.
“She’s not showing,” Saks said over his shoulder.
John’s eyebrows furrowed as he poured a draft. “She’ll be here. Go get yourself something to eat.”
Saks glanced at the ravaged table of near-empty platters. The crowd had gone crazy at the all-you-can-eat buffet. Sheldon didn’t take into account the ravenous hunger of bikers, and the kitchen staff hustled to fill the table for, like, the third time. “Dude, did you see what's left of the food?”
John arched an eyebrow. “Have another beer, then.” He pushed another bottle as Saks gave a desultory glance at the brew over his shoulder.
“If it were me,” said a brunette sitting at the bar, “I wouldn’t stand you up, handsome.”
Great, now he looked pathetic. And his stomach rumbled.
“Thanks for the thought, but I’m sure she’s stuck at work.”
He didn’t want to talk to this woman. Or any woman tonight. Damn. He was getting cranky at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.
The brunette pouted. “Ok, Sugar. But I’m just saying I wouldn’t keep you waiting.”
Saks frowned. He was falling deeper into the rabbit hole with each passing second. He didn’t want it getting around that he was involved, and in this bar gossip flew faster than a jet plane. It’d take two minutes before Uncle Vits would be coming through the door, questioning him.
The front door flew open, and Saks glanced over, half expecting to see his uncle. A young woman with blue-black hair came in. Her eyes scanned the room predatorily, as if searching for someone. She stood five-foot-five, with full breasts and a round figure. Her eyes were dark, and her face had the aquiline nose that marked the Serafina family.