The Big Blind (Nadia Wolf) (17 page)

“I don’t feel like punching anything.”

“Your whole body is pulsing with negative energy. I’ll have to give Greyson a lecture next time I see him. If he would have properly taken care of your needs, you would be soft and satisfied.”

I glared at him. I really didn’t want to hear about his brotherly advice on girls, especially if it had to do with Greyson. He could probably give a few lessons of his own.

David chuckled, grabbed my hand, and led me into my bedroom. He positioned me in front of the punching bag and shoved the gloves on my hands as he gave me instructions on proper technique.

“Go ahead,” he said, stepping out of the way. “Give it your best shot.”

I tapped the bag with my glove.

“Try a little harder.”

I gave it a soft punch. A smile crept on my face. I quickly smothered it.

“Good; now harder.”

“Really?”

“I want you to beat the shit out of it.”

I gave it a solid punch. My tension dissipated. I punched it again.

“Great. Let’s switch it up so you don’t fatigue or hurt yourself.”

He positioned himself in front of the punching bag and demonstrated jabs, hooks, and uppercuts. I watched in awe as his muscles rippled underneath his t-shirt. He was in top physical condition. I could see why Mya was still hung up on him. My mind shot to Greyson. I pushed David out of the way and hauled back and walloped the bag. David called out punches, and I followed his instructions. After twenty minutes, I was drenched in sweat and exhausted.

“Can I stop now?” I asked.

“Have we vanquished your aggression yet?”

Caleb zapped into my brain. I clenched my teeth together, spun around, and kicked the bag. It smacked into the wall with a thud.

David’s eyes widened. “Where did that come from?”

“Jet Li . . . and a whole lot of resentment.”

“Hit the shower, Jet. We have work to do.”

Chapter 11

After David explained the counterfeiting details, and what I was to relay to Greyson, he departed through the window. I preferred the sensible route and chose the stairs. Plus, he had to return to spy headquarters or wherever he came from. He gave me the message for Greyson before he Spiderman’d his way out the window. I glanced out the window after he left but didn’t see him. I was on my way out the door when Frankie caught me.

“You’re looking decent considering you haven’t slept,” he said. “Why aren’t you with Greyson?”

“I’m going back over there.”

“Before you go, I have some fabulous news.”

“Can it wait?”

Frankie arched his eyebrow at my absurdity.

“Okay, tell me the good news.”

“Lupier called and wants you to perform again.”

My jaw dropped open. “You can’t be serious. I mooned the crowd and TV viewers, and I nearly burned myself up with my own cards. My hair still has burnt edges.”

“Yes, your locks are dreadful, but his ticket sales spiked because of you. He wants you to be his assistant this time. That way, there won’t be any mistakes.”

“It wasn’t entirely my fault! And I don’t know any thing about magic.”

Frankie flipped his hand in the air. “What’s there to know? He does all the work, and you just stand there looking pretty.”

“Uh-huh.” I was pretty sure that wasn’t what was going to happen. “When is it?”

“In two nights. He’ll have your costume and everything. You’ll need to hook up with him to learn the routine.”

Working closely with Lupier wasn’t on my list of fun things. I’d contact him later; procrastination has benefits.

The taxi dropped me off at the casino. I stood on the sidewalk hesitant to go inside. It would only be a matter of minutes before I was spotted and Greyson would be aware of my location. I’d wait for him outside where there weren’t any extra ears. If he didn’t come out, then I would have to go inside.

I lumbered to the nearest bench and sank down. The hot sun melted me to my seat. I wasn’t going to be able to wait longer than ten minutes before I would have to seek the air-conditioned casino. A shadow fell over me. I gazed up to find Remy towering over me.

“Greyson wants to see you.”

“Tell Greyson to come out here.”

Remy crossed his arms. “I will not tell him that. You need to come inside.”

I smirked and crossed my arms. “I don’t think so. Tell him I’ll meet him at Café Sofina if he wants to talk.”

“What the hell happened between you two? You’re obviously ticked about something.”

“I am. But that’s not why I’m here. Tell him I have a message. If he wants it, he’ll have to come and get it.” I stood to leave. “I’ll give him ten minutes to be at the café, and then I’m out of there.”

“You know I could just pick you up and carry you to him.”

“Remy, you wouldn’t dare. And after my battle with the punching bag this today, I have the fighter’s blood of Jet Li and maybe Bruce Lee. Nobody messes with them,” I said and poked his arm.

“That’s it,” Remy said, grabbing my waist. He picked me up like I was a football and carried me like one into the casino.

“Don’t you dare, Remy.”

“Looks like I already dared,” he said.

Okay, I now know not to poke his arm.

Eyes from the casino patrons flickered to Remy and me. No one seemed to think anything of it and their eyes turned back to their slot machines.

“Put me down. I’ll walk myself.”

“I don’t trust you. You might go all Jet Li on my ass.” He chuckled. “Actually, I’m thinking you might be more like Jackie Chan.”

“Jackie Chan is a great martial artist.”

“Yes, he is. But his movies crack me up.”

“Are you saying I’m a clown?”

“I didn’t say clown. Jackie Chan isn’t a clown, but he does make me laugh; so do you.”

“You know I could punch you below the belt right now.”

“You could though it wouldn’t help you at all.”

“Why? I could run away.”

“I wear a cup.”

“I don’t want to hear this,” I said, trying to stick my fingers in my ear.

“Hey, you have to take precautions if you’re in my line of work.”

“Do all security guards wear cups? Why did I just ask that? Forget it! I don’t want to know.”

“Not all. I’m keeping my boys safe. I’ve had too many close calls.”

“Remy! I don’t want to hear about your boys unless they happen to be your children.”

He chuckled.

“I don’t want to be seen like this,” I said.

“You should have thought about that before.” He punched the elevator button with his meaty finger.

The elevator door opened and Catarina stepped out. She glared at me, but a smile slithered to her face.

“Well-well, what’s this? Remy, are you taking Greyson’s dog for a walk?”

Damn her!
I flung my leg at Catarina just as Remy turned to step into the elevator. I missed Catarina and my leg connected with the metal elevator door frame. Tears sprung to my eyes as a shockwave roared up my leg with pain. Catarina laughed and sauntered off. Remy glanced down at me and shook his head.

“Are you okay?” He asked, swiping his pass in the elevator. He pushed the top floor button. “If I had known you were trying to kick her, I would have stood still. You’re making this harder on yourself.”

“I’m making this hard? All I needed to do was give Greyson a message, and you go all King Kong on me. The only difference is we’re taking the elevator to the top floor instead of scaling the building.”

He smiled. “I like King Kong. He’s a cool monkey.”

“Isn’t he a gorilla?”

“Can’t leave it alone, can you?”

“What?”

He sighed. “I’m glad I only have to escort you to Greyson. He can deal with you.”

“This is what you call an escort? I think my whole middle is bruised from this escort.”

The elevator door opened, and he continued to carry me like a football the final distance to Greyson’s penthouse. Greyson opened the door and only then did Remy set me down inside the door. I rubbed my stomach.

“She’s all yours. Do you need me to stay?”

“No, it’s okay,” Greyson said.

Remy grinned at me. “Hey Jet, it’s been fun.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. He retreated from the room with a chuckle. Greyson closed the door behind him. His eyes focused on me, but he didn’t speak. I sighed and limped to the couch. I inspected my leg to find it already puffy and red. It was only a matter of time before a nasty bruise would appear.

Greyson inspected my leg. “Do you want some ice for your leg?”

“No.”

“Did Remy do this?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

Greyson knelt in front of me. “Nadia, what’s going on? Why did you leave so abruptly and return the same way?”

I groaned. I felt like an ass. Greyson has only been nice to me—the King Kong incident aside—and I’m treating him like crap because of what Mya said. Because he had a bachelor lifestyle and I wanted . . . wanted what? I certainly didn’t want a man who was married to his work. So, what was my problem? I sighed. The problem was: I was yet another woman who needed Mya to go and fetch her things; just one more woman to iron out her needs and then send her on her way.

“Nadia, what’s going through your head?”

“Greyson, I’m sorry. I overreacted to some thing someone said to me.”

“Who said some thing to you?”

I shifted in my seat. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Greyson took my hand into his. “I’ve been raking my brain to think what I could have done to make you run away. Please tell me so I won’t do it again.”

“It’s nothing you did.”

“Then what?”

I didn’t say anything.

His mouth twisted as he thought. “Mya was the only one who talked to you . . . it was her. What did she say?”

I cringed.

“Nadia, what did she say?”

“You have to promise you won’t get mad at her. She didn’t realize what had just happened between us. Her words were innocent.”

“I promise I won’t be mad.”

I studied his eyes to make sure he was telling the truth. “She said I was one of the easiest guests you’ve had in a while and most of the women that stayed here are demanding and high maintenance.”

Greyson sat back and groaned. “Can I take back my promise?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” His eyes caught mine. “I can’t tell you she’s wrong.”

I put my hand up to stop him.

“Let me finish,” he said. “While she’s not wrong, it might sound worse than it is. I don’t have time for as many women as you might suspect. Honestly, you aren’t like any of them.”

“I don’t really want you to have to explain. I was tired and overreacted. I understand your lifestyle doesn’t allow you to tie yourself down. I’d be an idiot to think you would live like a monk. Please, let’s drop this and move on.”

Greyson tugged me over to his side. His hands moved to cup my face. “We’re good now?”

He didn’t give me time to respond. His lips were on mine and I melted into him. So much for being mad. One kiss and I’m as passive as a sleeping kitten. Maybe the twenty minutes on the punching bag made me weak. I should think about pawning it off on someone else. Or, maybe, I should just punch men who tick me off instead of a bag. It was something to ponder, but not at this time. I needed sleep. My temperament wasn’t on an even balance and making everyone suffer.

“Greyson, I can’t do this.”

“You can’t do this?” He asked and nipped on my earlobe.

“No.”

“How about this?” He moved down to my neck.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Hmm, how about this?” His hand slid to cup my breast. His thumb stroked my nipple.

My breath caught. “Maybe that.”

He smiled as his finger stroked and circled. “You still have a few more hours to go before we can both sleep. We should probably go into the bedroom and wait it out in there.”

“Greyson, I was supposed to tell you something,” I said as he unhooked my bra.

“What?” He asked, pulling my shirt over my head.

“I, uh, can’t remember when you do that,” I said as he bent down to capture my nipple with his teeth.

“It couldn’t be too important,” he said, lifting me from the couch and carrying me to the bed.

“I can walk you know.”

“This way is more fun.”

He laid me on the bed, stripped me of the rest of my clothes, and pressed me into the bed with his weight on top of me. Kissing away all brain cells, my body hummed as his mouth roamed the length of me.

“Greyson, I really am supposed to tell you something.”