Blinking, he turned back to Shane Hollis—the man who’d been bothering him the last ten minutes with inane conversation about an investment opportunity. The truth was, he didn’t give a shit what this guy said. He wasn’t going to do business with Hollis. He’d already bought some of the man’s restaurants a year ago because Hollis couldn’t manage his money. The trust-fund baby liked drugs too much, something Hollis didn’t think Viktor knew.
Tonight Viktor had simply been trying to be civil because that’s what normal people did. They behaved in certain ways because it was socially acceptable.
He hated it the majority of the time but he was a businessman. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t stand most people. He could put on an act. Most of the time anyway.
Tonight he couldn’t stop staring at the curvy woman with legs that seemed to go on for miles. He wondered if she worked for Red Stone. Or maybe she was just friendly with the wives of the brothers who ran the company because he’d seen her talking to Elizabeth Martinez Caldwell a lot. Lizzy, as her friends called her, came from a very wealthy, influential family and she’d married one of the Caldwell brothers a couple years ago. They’d just had a kid not long ago too, something he remembered seeing in his files—because he kept files on anyone in the city who was important.
“She is not for you,” Abram murmured next to him.
He blinked and realized he’d been staring again and that he and Abram were alone once more. Hollis must have left, thank fuck. If Viktor hadn’t just invested in a new restaurant—that had a big display here tonight—he wouldn’t even be here at the Celebration of Chefs. “Who?”
“Don’t pretend. You and half the men here tonight are watching her. She works for Red Stone, I hear. She’s not for you.” Abram shook his head. “That kind of woman…she wouldn’t look twice at men like us.”
Viktor just grunted, dismissing his brother’s words. The owners of Red Stone were fucking Boy Scouts and the people they hired were the same. That didn’t mean he couldn’t speak to the woman. Talking was harmless.
Mesmerized, he drank in the sweet lines of her body as she waved at a friend and said goodbye to the people she was talking to. When he saw her headed to speak to a couple he knew—the man, anyway—he straightened.
In her heels she was over six feet tall, a virtual goddess. Most women with that much height would choose to wear shorter heels, but she clearly owned who she was. He could see it in every confident step she took. Those curves were enough to make a man want to lock a woman down for a marathon of sex. And a woman who looked like that—he didn’t think any sane man would want to let her go.
If she truly worked for Red Stone, it was…annoying. Maybe she was a former spook like the founder and one of his sons. She was young though, under thirty. Maybe even closer to twenty-five. It was difficult to tell.
When Rhys Maxwell, one of the people she’d been talking to, broke away from her and another woman, Viktor headed in Rhys’s direction. He stopped next to the British businessman at a display of champagne glasses.
“Maxwell,” he murmured, nodding politely.
The other man smiled, nodded. “Ivanov. Surprised you’re here. Thought you hated stuff like this.”
“Just bought a restaurant.”
“Ah, that makes sense.” Maxwell’s gaze turned back to the two women, his interest in the shorter brunette clear. Unfortunately for Maxwell, Viktor was fairly certain the woman didn’t plan on sleeping with him. He was good at reading people and her body language screamed she wasn’t interested.
“Is that the same woman you brought to the last event?”
Maxwell turned to look at him, his expression turning slightly possessive. “Yes.”
“Who is her friend?” The words came out harsher than he’d intended, but he wanted to know.
Maxwell blinked, seemed to relax at the question. “Ah, one of Raegan’s friends. They work together.” He tilted his head in their direction. “I’ll introduce you.”
A burst of anticipation hummed through him as they headed over, but as they started walking, the blonde darted away and into the crowd, moving with clear purpose. He was surprised by the disappointment that slid through his veins.
As they reached the brunette, he said, “Who is your friend?” The question came out demanding and he had to remind himself about those stupid social niceties, to act normal.
Maxwell cleared his throat, looked slightly annoyed at him. “Ah, Viktor, this is Raegan. She works for Red Stone Security. I believe you have some acquaintances in common.”
He turned to look fully at the woman. She had an innocent quality to her and he could see he frightened her. Or at least made her nervous. He did that a lot to people without meaning to. It was his size. He was six foot five and big all over. He hid most of his tattoos, but some still peeked out and he couldn’t do anything about the ones on the backs of his hands. Not that he gave a shit what people thought of him. Hell, most of the time he used his size and appearance to his advantage, especially in business. But he didn’t want to frighten random women.