Chapter 5 - Maxim

It's been years since I last went on a proper date, and I don't have a fucking clue why I'm doing this now.

Taking women home and fucking them without a second thought, I can manage. It's easy. All it requires is a drink, maybe a dinner, and then they're falling into my bed and are gone in the morning.

Pearl is different. I knew that the moment I met her. I have to take it slow to win her over, to gain her trust. Fuck me, patients were never my strong suit.

Hell, I will be lucky she even stays in my company past an hour. She doesn't seem like the kind of woman to be impressed by the fancy candlelight in the middle of the table, or the lights flickering dimly above us with the stained-glass fixtures. I doubt she will look at the menu and see the cost of a lobster or steak dinner and think that it is anything extraordinary.

I don't even know if she's going to continue with the coy game she's playing for the entire date. It is much more likely that she is going to get here, take one look at me, and decide she isn't going to drop her fa?ade.

It shouldn't matter either. In one way or another, I always get what I want. I'll make damn sure she understands that I'm not just another business transaction in her books.

In the grand scheme of things, she is just another woman that I asked out for dinner. But I won't let her get away this easily. She's intriguing for such a young lady, smart and wise beyond her age, but there is something else, something deeper in those big, dark eyes–vulnerability.

She has given me an unspoken challenge, to discover piece by piece who she truly is. Fuck, I wouldn't mind discovering every inch of her sexy body either.

While there might not be anything happening tonight, it is nevertheless a meal I'm sharing with a beautiful woman while other men in the restaurant are envious of me.

Who wouldn't want to be seen with a woman like her drawing the attention of everyone around them?

She is so beautiful, and I would be a fucking fool not to pursue her.

Perhaps the fascination will fade by the time this evening is over. Once I get to know her, she could become nothing more than another beautiful woman. She could be a figment of my imagination—something not too good to be true anymore. I wouldn't care that she was unlike any other woman I have ever met.

Our only other option was that after this dinner she would fall for me and then I'll be left with a problem on my hands. One I have no intention of having.

A little voice in the back of my mind is chanting that it might be nice to settle down. Other men in my family have been settling down in recent times and they seem content with their lives. It could be time that I try just having one woman to be mine, one woman to fuck and protect for the rest of my life.

Could Pearl be that woman?

As I'm musing and getting lost in my thoughts she walks into the restaurant, her heels clicking against the ground. The hem of her flowing silk dress is clinging to her toned calves with each step. The deep color reminds me of evergreens at Christmas and it suits her tanned, shimmering skin. With every step she comes closer my cock grows harder. I shift in my chair and quickly adjust myself before I have an embarrassing situation.

Pearl gives me that sweet, dimpled smile, as I stand when she arrives at the table. I cross over to her pulling out the chair I'm waiting for her to sit before tucking her back in.

"Thank you," she says as she places her napkin in her lap, smoothing it out over her dress.

"Thank you for coming tonight," I say as I sit back down in my chair, reaching for the glass of wine in front of me. "There was a moment I thought you were going to stand me up when you refused to let me pick you up from your home. It would have been no trouble at all to send one of my cars for you."

"For once, I want to experience something other than a man sending his car for me."

"Do you have a lot of men picking you up and taking you to nice restaurants, asking you to dine with them, promising to take you to the corners of the world?"

"And what if I did?" she asks, her smile coy. She looks at me over the edge of the menu. "What if other men are promising to give me what you think you can give me?"

"I would tell you that they're all dead. Dead to you, that is. I can assure you that you will meet no other man like me, no other man capable of giving you the things you want, even the things you didn't know you wanted. Every little thing you've ever craved in your life could be yours."

"It could be." Pearl pauses, glancing around the restaurant her gaze landing on a waiter who scurries over the moment she looks at him. "Excuse me? Do you mind fetching us another bottle of white wine? Same vintage as this one here. I'm sure we're going to need it."

I stifle a grin at her request for another bottle of wine. If she thinks we're going to be here long enough for two, then she's at least interested in getting to know me.

The waiter can't be more than a university student. He stumbles over his feet, smoothing down his tie as he looks down at her. His gaze drops to her chest and when she notices, she puts her hand on his forearm, batting her eyelashes.

A surge of jealousy rises in my chest, but I wash it down with a large gulp of wine. It will be sweeter to watch the boy make a fool of himself than it would be to intervene.

"Thank you so much," she says, her voice warm like linens fresh from the dryer on a chilly winter day.

The boy scurries off but as he disappears behind the bar, he casts her one last longing glance. It's no surprise to me. She's got to be closer to his age than my own.

Smirking over the edge of my menu card, I close it and set it aside, already knowing what I'm going to order. "You know that wasn't kind. He's going to spend the rest of his shift thinking about you and trying to work up the nerve to talk to you, and he's never going to be able to do it. Even if he was, that's another kind of man you don't need in your life. He's little more than a boy."

"You seem to know an awful lot about what you think I need in my life."

"I have years of experience a boy like that doesn't have. I've spent my life around women who deserve the best in the world. I know what they want, I'm willing to give it to them."

"But at what cost?"

"I guess that would depend on the woman." I clasp my hands together, leaning forward on the table forearms resting on the white tablecloth. "Look, I'm being honest, I would like to get to know you."

"That sounds unusual coming from a man like you."

"So, you know who I am then?"

"I might know more than you think about you." Pearl smirks and continues reading the menu. "But I do know you own a casino and you're a threat to Noah Hearst's business."

Then she doesn't know about the Bratva. I'm uncertain of whether that should be a relief or not. Whether I should believe her or not.

It would be easier if she knew the entirety of who I am, but if she doesn't, it may be easier to win her over.

Even though she's looking through the menu, I know her attention is on me. She can't seem to focus, her gaze flickering up to mine more than once. Those brown eyes look more like an innocent puppy than the shrewd businesswoman Yegor says she is.

"A lady should tell her admirer … However, if you don't want to sit here and tell me, then I'm sure we can find other ways to discuss your life. Who's your family? What's your home like?"

"Does any of that truly matter?"

Evading me again.

"No. Once you've seen that you're mine, that's the only thing that matters. You could live in a hole in the ground. I wouldn't care. I have the power to change that."

"I can assure you I didn't crawl out of some dingy little crater beneath a bridge. Although that sounds interesting." Her laugh is light and airy, drawing the attention of those around us.

The envious stares surrounding us have my chest puffing with pride. I'm the one who got her to laugh. I hold her entire attention. It doesn't waver. It doesn't drift to the salivating man at the table beside us who looks like he would be a better match for her.

Instead, her gaze roams my body. She eyes the tattoos on my hands that peek out of the cuff of my jacket. That creep up my neck. There are more tattoos than there is free skin. But the thought of her retracing them with her fingertips as we lay in bed on a slow Sunday morning has my cock aching again.

Fuck, I want her. I need her, and even though I know I shouldn't, I want to take her home now. Give her the life that a man like me can provide to a woman like her.

She would never have to work another day in her life going out with rich men like Noah Hearst.

"Alright." I take another sip of the wine, holding her attention captive. "If you don't live in a hole, you don't want me to see your apartment, and you don't want to speak about your family, what will you talk about?"

"Have you considered the problem as you haven't found anything I'm interested in talking about?"

"I spoke about taking you to Japan. You seemed interested in that."

"To be honest, Japan is on the list of places I wish to travel to, but it's not the most important. I thought so many times about exploring Egypt. Climbing Machu Picchu. Just doing something to get away from my everyday life in New York."

"What about Russia?" I ask. An idea sparking alive in my head.

"You want to take me to Russia?" she asks, her tone filled with disbelief, her lips parting slightly. "Why would you want to take me to Russia?"

"If you will not tell me anything about yourself in this city, perhaps you will in another."

She lights up with delight, looking like a kid on Christmas morning who's just gotten everything they've ever wanted. However, when she opens her mouth to speak, no sound comes out.

Pearl is saved from having to answer when the waiter returns with the second bottle of white wine.

"Good evening, I'm Thomas and I'll be your server for this evening. Is there anything I can get the two of you to start your meal? Have you had a chance to look over the menu and decide what you would like for your mains?"

Pearl closes her menu, twisting her body so she faces him. "I've heard the lobster ravioli with the lemon and chive cream sauce is to die for. I'd like that please."

I put my menu down in front of me. "Steak frites for me. And you would do well to keep your eyes off her chest. I haven't made it a problem yet, but if you continue to stare at my lady, it will be."

Thomas takes the menus and nods, his cheeks flooding a deep scarlet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm. To be honest, I didn't realize."

"Don't you know it is rude to stare at a woman?" My hands curl into fists.

I may not want to start a scene in my favorite restaurant, but if the waiter doesn't get out of my sight in the next two minutes, he's going to find himself on the ground with a broken nose.

Pearl turns back to me. "Maxim, you don't have to scold him. It's fine."

"No, it's not fine. He's staring at you like a prize to be won when you're here with me. I can tell you this right now, Pearl. I'm not a man who shares."

Thomas takes a step back. "Is there anything you like for an appetizer?"

"Scallops, please," she says. She uses that warm and friendly tone that could make anyone think they are her best friend. As she speaks, she glares at me at the same time.

The waiter nods and hurries away with the menus tucked beneath one arm.

"You're acting like a caveman."

"No. I'm acting like a man who's here on a date with you who doesn't want other men to be staring at his stunning and intelligent woman. Not the way he was staring at you, at least.

"All men stare at me as if I'm a prize. Comes in useful in my line of business."

"I thought you were between jobs."

And here it is, the moment where she tells me the truth about who she is. Where she stops hiding the fact that she's an escort. This is the moment where there's going to be a crack in that little mask and I'm going to get to see beneath the stained armor she wears.

"The business of getting a free meal from a rich man." She smirks and leans back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other, drawing my eyes down to the slit that climbs high on her thigh.

I could bend her over the table right now and shove that slit up. I'd sink into her, showing that waiter that she's not here for him. Pearl would be screaming my name in moments, begging for more, even in a crowded restaurant.

From this moment on, she's mine, whether she knows it or not.

"There you go again," I say, trying to match the teasing tone she's had all night. It's foreign to me. I'm used to dealing with blunt and truth. Not playing games, dancing back and forth, trying to figure out who has the upper hand at any given moment. "You're dodging the subject. If you don't want to talk about yourself. Are you going to give me an answer about Russia?"

The scallops arrive, placed on the table between us, and she stabs her fork in one. She swirls through the brown butter sauce on the plate. When she holds it up to her lips, slowly sliding it off, I know, that she's trying to get me to think about something other than the dinner in front of us.

It would have worked beautifully if I hadn't been expecting a little seduction from her. Oh, if she thinks she can toy with me, and tease me, she has no idea who I truly am. I have an iron-clad self-control and keep my expression stoic.

Pearl's tongue flicks out wetting the bottom of her lip. "And if I were to go on a private plane and fly with you to Russia—and I'm not saying that I will—what would be expected of me?"

"Keep me company, have some fun," I say nonchalantly.

"You know how intentionally vague you're being. Tell me the truth. Maybe I'll trade you one of my truths in exchange."

"I'd prefer if we didn't start this relationship with lies. Wouldn't you?" I smirk watching as a pale pink blush floods across her high cheekbones. "I know you're curious about me, but you don't want to tell me anything about yourself."

"And yet you still want me to go to a different country with you."

"I think once we're in Russia you'll start telling me more about why you have agreed to meet with me tonight. I have ways to make a woman talk. Although they have little to do with the ways I make men talk."

Her laughter is louder this time, her head tilting back, showing off the long column of her neck. The place where I plan to leave a mark. My mark.

"If you are trying to figure out if I'll make a suitable bride, I'm not for sale." She shakes her head as she looks at me, but there is interest in her eyes. "I'm not going to give you an answer tonight. I need to take time to think this over. I don't know you, yet."

"I would think less of you if you did confirm your ticket tonight." I chuckle before I lower my voice and smooth my tone. "And no, I don't need a bride, but if it's what you want once we get to know each other, I might consider the option."

Now her cheeks are bright red, her lush lips curl into a pout, accentuating the little dark cups in her cheeks. So, fucking adorable.

We both know she'll accept the invitation. Pearl is just as intrigued by me as I am by her. I can see it in the way she looks at me like she's trying to crack a code.

"Let's say that I was accepting your offer, getting on a private plane with you, going to a country on the other side of the world where I know nobody. I want a contract."

"You could have the world."

"While the world would suffice, I'm not quite to the stage of my plans for world domination yet where I need the entire thing."

"I see if you do come with me, we're going to spend the time in Russia matching wits. I don't think I've ever met a woman quite like you. Not one so willing to challenge me and to tease me."

"Must be refreshing."

"Must be." I pop a scallop into my mouth. "If it's a contract you want for Russia, then it's a contract I'll have drawn up."

"Sex is off the table."

"Damn, there were several tables I was planning on putting to use."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" she asks, though she can't hide the musical sound of amusement in her voice.

"I'll put the clause into the contract. We can have sex if you want to, but I won't demand it. You have to beg for it."

"I'm never going to beg."

"We'll see about that."