Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

Closing the office door for privacy, I balance Connor on my lap and dial the number listed for Dimension Insurance.

He answers with a short-breathed, “Yes?”

Everything about that voice makes me go still inside. The way the deep baritone vibrates through my body sends sparks to my nerve endings. Every follicle contracts. Every hair stands erect.

“Hello?”

I jerk back to life. “It’s Valentina Louw. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

The pause on the other end of the line lasts only a millisecond, but it’s enough to notice. “No. I was just working out.”

I can hear the uncertainty, the questions, and the hunger in his voice. We’re too much in tune, the nuances too clear for me to imagine them all. “I can call back later.”

“That won’t be necessary. What can I do for you?”

“I looked you up on the internet.”

He utters a dry chuckle. “I gathered.” More caution. “Why?”

“You run an insurance company.”

“That’s right.”

It sounds as if he’s opening the fridge. A can pops. The sound is followed by soft swallowing. My imagination does wicked things to me, putting images in my mind of Gabriel leaning against the counter, drinking beer. His Adam’s apple moves as he swallows. All the while he watches me with the sexual intent that tells me he’s going to bend me over the counter and take what he wants, but not without giving me what I crave, first.

“Mrs. Louw?” I swear there’s a cocky grin behind the carefulness in his tone.

I fan myself with a piece of paper from my desk. “I have business for you.”

“What kind of business?”

“Diamonds. I prefer we meet to discuss this in person rather than over the phone.”

“I…” His sigh is filled with regret. “I’m not the right man for the job.”

His words can’t be further from the truth. “I’ll be the judge of that. Tomorrow, four o’clock?” I close my eyes and hold my breath.

“I work from home.” He makes it sound like a protest.

“Not a problem. I have your address.”

“Of course you do.” This time, he sounds downright amused, but then his tone changes, again. “Mrs. Louw, I––”

“See you at four tomorrow, then.”

I hang up before he has time to conjure a reason why I shouldn’t knock on his door. If Gregor is Gabriel, I plan to expose him. He better be ready. I’ll barge through his door like he once did through mine, swinging a weapon much more powerful than a gun.

All through the next day, I have a lump of concrete in my stomach. Since we’re fumigating the office, we have to close early––the perfect excuse to go home and get ready. While Connor naps, I shower and change. My hands shake when I apply make-up and dry my hair. Even the weather plays along for ambience with a powerful thunderstorm, probably one of the last before the dry winter spell. The thunder wakes Connor. I feed and change him, and get in some quality cuddle time. At three-thirty, I button up my trench coat and grab an umbrella. Connor should be good for a couple of hours. Carrying him downstairs, I go in search of the guys and find them playing poker in the kitchen.

Rhett gives a wolf whistle when he sees me. “Wow. You cleaned up nicely.”

“It’s only make-up.” I shift Connor to the other hip, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Have I gone overboard?

“Pre–pretty.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

Quincy’s gaze runs over me. “Stockings and heels? I didn’t know we’re going out.”

“Ou–out.” Charlie looks at the window where thunder lights up the sky. “It’s rai–raining.”

“We’re not going out. I am.”

“Uh-uh.” Quincy pulls his mouth in an obstinate line. “You’re not going anywhere without one of us.” He pushes back his chair. “I’ll come.”

“You can’t come.”

He gives me a baffled look. “Why not?”

“I’m going out.”

Rhett stops stuffing his mouth with potato chips to look at me. “Out as in on a date?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“Oh. Wow. Yes. Okay.” Quincy and Rhett exchange a look. “Great.”

“That’s cool.” Rhett says. “I’ll drive you.”

“Rhett.” I lift my brow.

“What?”

“I’m not going to relax knowing you’re sitting outside in the car.”

He scrunches his forehead and rubs his lips together, as if he’s thinking. “It’s dangerous, out there.”

“You taught me how to handle myself, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but––”

“Don’t you have confidence in my ability to defend myself?”

“You’re mean with those tiny fists and a gun, but…” He rubs the back of his head. “I don’t know.”

“I appreciate how well you’re looking after me, guys, really I do, but if you want me to go out and meet people, you’ve got to give me a bit of freedom.”

“She’s right,” Quincy says on a sigh. “We can’t chaperone her on a date.”

“I’ll be out a couple of hours, max.”

“All right.” Rhett seems simultaneously happy and uncomfortable with the words. “Call us if you’re running late.”

“Do you mind watching Connor? I would’ve asked Kris, but she’s working.”