Acquainted, page 3
She expected him to walk away now that they had plans. Instead, he stepped closer to her, making her look up at him, and Alfie merely leaned in close enough to press his lips against her jaw, then said, "Sweet dreams, Vera," before he was grabbing his drink and walking back to his booth.
Men didn’t often intrigue Vera enough for her to agree to a date within five minutes of learning their name, but Alfie ... she was almost sure he would be impossible to say no to.
Chapter 3
Of all the people Alfie expected to cross paths with down in Punta de Mita while conducting business, Vera Markovic didn’t even make the short list of options.
And while he might not have tipped his hand the night before, he knew exactly who she was once she said her name.
Russian mafiya printsessa. And even if her father tested his patience more often than he liked, Alfie still did business with the Markovic family when a time called for it.
Usually, he dealt with her brother, Kazimir, who was currently in jail for a petty offense that shouldn’t have called for anything more than a slap on his wrist, but that hadn’t been his mess to clean up, so he hadn’t stepped in to remedy it.
And as he pictured her brother, he could see the resemblance. Her raven black hair and stunning gray eyes had snared his attention from the moment she walked into the bar the night before.
He’d had his fair share of women over the years, in all varieties, but none of them held a candle to her. And none of them had ever grabbed his attention as quickly as she had.
The way that white dress of hers had clung to every curve, the low back giving him a view of her pale, unblemished skin.
Fucking beautiful, she was, and she knew it. He liked that all the more—he admired the bold.
Which was part of the problem.
Some people were just off limits. Especially to men like him.
Sisters.
Wives.
Alfie usually had no trouble abiding by that rule, if only because if any man thought they were going anywhere near his sister, he would make it very fucking clear really quick that it was not fucking happening.
He knew the kind of men who ran in his circles—he needed only to look into a fucking mirror to get an idea—and not one of them needed to be anywhere near Feather.
But Vera? He wasn’t sure he could stay away from her, not yet.
That itch beneath his skin was still there.
He made the excuse in his own head that he hadn’t known when he first approached her, that she could have been anyone, but once she told him—and he’d heard her quite clearly—he knew better than to keep going.
He should have, at the very least, told her who he was. That he knew who she was and the family she came from.
But he did neither.
It had also become clear to him that she had absolutely no idea who he was, despite the business he did with her brother, which meant she wasn’t involved in the family business.
And that suited his needs just fine.
“Wait, so you’re staying?” Siris asked as they rode toward the hangar.
“That’s what I said, yeah?”
“What you said, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right fucking choice. I’m assuming you’re staying for the girl?”
It seemed elementary somehow to describe Vera Markovic as just a girl. As someone who could quite easily be forgotten and replaced.
But he knew, even after only a few minutes in her presence, that she was nothing of the sort.
“We’ve got business in New York,” Siris said with an arched brow, not bothering to get out of the car once they arrived. “And you’re staying down here?”
“A few days won’t hurt the bottom line,” he said even though he didn’t know how long he would be extending this trip.
He wasn’t even sure why he was extending his trip, for fuck’s sake. Only that his curiosity was running rampant, and if he wanted to satiate it, there was no better time than now to do it while Vera was down here alone, without her brothers or her cunt of a father.
“It’s important business, Alfie.”
“If it was important, I’d know about it because it’s my business, innit?”
Siris looked as if he wanted to argue further, but the stewardess waiting at the foot of the plane’s stairs with her gaze on her feet snagged his attention. “Right, well, suit yourself.”
Just as quickly as he had been concerned with their business arrangement, Siris seemed to forget all about it a moment later.
He thought more with his cock than his brain.
“Check in whenever you get around to landing,” Alfie muttered as he opened the door for the other man to climb out.
Since Siris made it a point to stay in the air for as long as possible, sometimes he needed a reminder that the business they conducted happened twenty-five thousand feet below him.
“Cheers, Alfie.”
And just that quickly, Alfie was forgotten as Siris set his sights on a new prize.
Not that he cared very much.
His mind was already on Vera.
In the past three years, Vera could count on one hand the number of dates she had been on. The first was with a chiropractor who was, unsurprisingly, good with his hands, but while he was nice, something had been rather ... boring about him.
Then there was the doctor whose arrogance annoyed the hell out of her.
The lawyer—who had lasted all of twenty minutes once he realized who she was.
And finally, there had been the bar owner who hadn't been bad at all. In fact, Vera actually liked him.
Until her father found out.
Until he had sent a couple of his men around to question and harass the man. Between one night and the next, that relationship was over and done with. She hadn't even gotten a phone call as to why, but the family dinner the following week told her everything she needed to know.
After that, it just became easier not to date. To focus on work and keep building her brand until she no longer cared.
Tonight, though, she was throwing caution to the wind.
She only had three nights in paradise, so why shouldn't she enjoy it?
Unlike the night before, she made an effort with her hair, straightening it and leaving it to fall around her shoulders. Her chiffon maxi dress had overlying panels of fabric just preventing it from revealing everything beneath, and she slipped her feet into tan sandals.
As ready as she would ever be.
Grabbing her purse and room key, she walked outside into the warm but damp hair, finding the man in question waiting for her.
With his hands tucked into his pockets, Alfie leaned against an army green Jeep Wrangler that had been customized without doors or a roof. It was rugged with giant wheels nearly as tall as she was and looked daunting even as she continued walking toward him.
He was in another pair of jeans with a slash in one knee, a gray knit shirt covered his chest, and the brown boots on his feet had seen better days.
"You look beautiful," he said, extending a hand once she was close. Kissing the back of it as he had done the night before, he walked her around the front of the Jeep and helped her up into the passenger seat.
When he came back around to the driver's side, he merely reached up to grab the door frame and hefted himself inside, straining the muscles in his arms with the movement.
"Where are we going?" she asked as he twisted the key in the ignition, and the engine rumbled to life.
"That'd ruin the surprise," he said, driving them away from the resort.
Palm trees stood tall on either side of the street, vendors peddling their wares. It was another hot day, the sun high in the stretch of blue sky above. It should have made her nervous that she didn’t know where she was going with a man she didn't know, but something about Alfie calmed that nervousness inside her.
She wasn't worried.
Twenty minutes later, Alfie turned onto a stone driveway with vegetation on either side and drove on it until they reached a wooden gate that seemed to span the property. The set of double doors looming ahead of them had brass door knockers in the shape of lion heads on the center of them.
He typed in a code on the keypad, and an audible click sounded before he pushed open one of the doors and gestured for her to go in ahead of him.
While she might have thought the doors were impressive, they had nothing on the pathway leading up to the villa ahead.
A man-made lagoon ran alongside the tiled pathway, and as she looked, she could just see the tails of fish as they swam away.
"Is this yours?" she asked, having noticed the mailbox at the entrance of the lane.
The thought was surprising, considering just how strong his accent was, but then again, it would make sense, considering the way he had driven through the streets like someone who was familiar with them.
“A rental,” he answered with a shrug, though something about the casual way he spoke made her wonder just how true that was.
She followed him through the courtyard and around the outside of the bungalow until they reached the side of the house. Made completely of clear panes, it allowed an unobstructed view of the inside.
Alfie unlocked the door and gestured for her to go in ahead of him.
She drew in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the ocean lingering in the air as they moved deeper into the kitchen. She wasn’t sure at first what his plans were for their night together, but as she watched him wash his hands, then open the refrigerator door and pull ingredients out, she had a pretty good idea.
“You’re going to make dinner?” she asked, too surprised to hide her astonishment.
It was a shame to say, but a man had never cooked for her, especially on a first date. Usually, the men who asked her out on a date tried to impress her with expensive meals and a show of their wealth.
While she might have been anticipating a night out in the heart of Punta de Mita, this was better.
“I’m a man of many talents,” he said with a wink, closing the refrigerator and setting the plate of meat on the counter.
Of that, she had no doubt. “How can I help?”
Alfie came around the island, pulling out one of the barstools and patting the top of it. “Red or white?”
She took a seat, crossing one leg over the other, mindful that he was watching her every move. “White.”
A minute later, he had a wine glass on the island in front of her, then a bottle of vintage with the cork popped out. Once he filled her glass, he poured his own drink of whiskey in a crystal cut glass.
He moved fluidly, effortlessly, as if he knew his way around a kitchen, but sitting at the island with a glass of wine in her hand as she watched him cook ... this was better. It was more intimate this way, and it allowed her a better chance to study him without his noticing.
Usually, she had a man figured out within minutes of being in his presence, but something about Alfie made him different—she just couldn't put her finger on it yet.
While he finished with the food, she went about setting the table for two, the summer breeze blowing through the open French doors. Whether it was the wine—a vintage that was far too good to just have one glass—or the man himself, Vera found herself relaxing further.
Once he sat across from her, he asked, “No man waiting for you at home?”
She blinked at the question and the serious note behind it. Everything about him was intense. The broadness of his shoulders. The intensity of his gaze. He was the sort of man who made you pay attention when he spoke without ever having to raise his voice.
“I wouldn’t be here with you if I did.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“And you?” she asked, cutting into her steak. “Are you spoken for?”
“Not yet,” he said with a brilliant smile.
She paused, knife and fork in hand. “A bit cocky, no?”
“Give me a chance, and I’ll show you just how much.”
Just dinner, she told herself as she looked from her plate to him, glad that his gaze wasn’t on her for once. Because she knew with the way she was feeling now, if his gaze was still on her, she wouldn’t be able to tell him no.
Chapter 4
"Wait, so you didn't sleep with him? What the hell kind of vacation is this?"
Vera mouthed, "Thank you," to the bartender as he passed her the bright red sangria he'd mixed for her, trying hard not to laugh at Frances's outraged question. "I don't even know him."
"That's the point! I'm pretty sure it's a cardinal rule somewhere that when you're single and go on vacation by yourself, you have sex with an attractive stranger ... so long as he's wearing a condom. Because STDs will come back with you."
Vera choked back her laughter as she sipped her drink, heading back to her cabana next to the biggest pool of the resort. Despite being with Alfie for the majority of the night—even as it had been mostly innocent—and getting back to her room in the wee hours of the morning, she still had managed to wake up before the sun had even hit the horizon, feeling as if she had already slept for hours.
Jet lag would be the death of her by the time she got home.
After a light breakfast and only an hour's work, she had changed into a bikini and come out to relax by the pool, wanting to enjoy the rays for as long as she could before this vacation was over and real life set back in.
But no matter how she tried to distract herself with food and drinks or even the beautiful scenery, she hadn't been able to take her mind off Alfie.
His charm.
His rather impressive cooking skills.
The way he had all but promised a night with him would be absolutely amazing, but even as the unspoken offer had hung between them the night before, she hadn't taken him up on it. Though now that she thought back on it, she wasn't sure why not.
Something had stopped her the night before, and she was starting to regret whatever that hesitation had been.
"Just call him," Frances said, wind whipping in the background. "You can't leave without getting laid. That's an order."
"I don't even have his phone number," Vera said regretfully. She hadn't thought twice about it until she woke up this morning.
"Hopeless. You're literally hopeless."
"If you're done ..."
"I will be if you swear when you see him again, you'll make the most of it. One of us has to have a good time."
At that, Vera frowned. "Blaine still giving you a hard time about the hours?"
When she had first considered this little vacation, she'd thought of just closing her studio until she got back, so Frances wouldn't have to be in charge of everything on her own, but she had insisted—wanting the challenge and the practice.
But her boyfriend didn't often see the long and late hours Frances worked as anything good.
"I missed some charity event he wanted me to go to with him. He said I would regret working so much, but the joke's on him because I didn't want to go to that thing anyway."
Vera shook her head, remembering one of the last she had attended. "I've yet to go to one I've actually enjoyed. You're not missing anything. Didn't Blaine invite you to that charity auction three months ago?"
"Exactly my point. That was a disaster! Why he would want me to go to another one is literally a mystery."
"Well, I'll be back soon, so he can stop his complaining."
"Yay," Frances deadpanned. "But that's all beside the point. You need to get out there, find that sexy stranger, and jump his bones."
"Thanks for the advice."
"Anytime. Now, I'm busy doing work. You get back to the fun stuff."
With a laugh, Vera hung up, tossing her phone on the stretch of bed beside her.
Thankfully, she'd reserved one of the shaded cabanas—one large enough to be a bed—that blocked out the early morning sunlight that was entirely too bright without glasses.
As she lay there, she let her mind drift, already knowing where her thoughts would go even before an image of Alfie appeared—and as if her imagination had conjured him, a shadow fell over her as someone approached her cabana.
Maneuvering her sunglasses to the top of her head, she didn't bother to fight a smile when she saw who stood there.
It should have been physically impossible for anyone to look as good as he did—especially since nothing about him would be considered pretty.
The slant of his brows.
The shape of his mouth.
The ropes and ropes of muscle that bordered on obscene.
Alfie was just a lot of man, and she would be remiss if she didn't appreciate it.
He didn't ask permission before he sat next to her, his gaze skimming down the length of her bare legs with an appreciative glance before slowly rising back up to her face. "I've been looking for you."
She took a moment to drink him in the way he had done her. Shifting to a sitting position, she was mindful of the tiny bikini she was wearing as her cover-up slipped a bit. He didn't seem to believe in pool wear, that much was obvious, considering he was still in a pair of jeans, a shirt with a faded logo, and scuffed boots, but she liked it all the same.
"It looks like you found me," she said with a laugh.
And to think, she thought it would be harder to run into him again, considering the size of this place and the likelihood that she would actually see him a second time.
But here he was, and as she had promised herself, there wouldn't be any wasted opportunities.
"You made it easy," he said with a nod of his head in the direction of the bartender who'd mixed her drink earlier. "Nearly lost his head, that one. Seemed about ready to come out of his skin when I asked if he'd seen a beautiful woman with raven hair around."
The way he made that sound, she wasn't sure whether he meant the man would lose his head because of her, or because of Alfie himself.
Either way, she liked the slight frown on his face.
"You're not jealous, are you, Alfie?"
He rested back on one elbow, making that one action seem far too attractive. "As long as you only have eyes for me, s'all good."
