The guy straightened. He nodded just as the doors dinged open. We stepped in, and there was a moment I felt like making conversation to fill the silence, but I didn’t know what to say and worried anything I said would sound stupid.

Did he know what I was there for?

Did he know Mr. Hail paid for my company?

Shaking my head slightly, I pushed all thoughts out because none of it mattered. Nothing mattered except getting my head in the game. I wasn’t sure my mind would ever really be in the game, though, not at the moment anyway, not since it was my first night. My first client.

My heart galloped in my chest when the doors dinged open. The guard stepped out first. I followed and waited behind him, since he stopped just outside the elevator doors.

A sudden urge to pee filled me when I heard heavy footfalls on the polished wooden floors.

Then he was there. I peeked over the guard’s shoulder when the guard dipped his chin, saying, “Mr. Hail.”

“Ostav’ nas,” Mr. Hail barked.

Oh boy, he had a thick accent. A Russian accent that shot a tingle to my balls.

That wasn’t good.

It wasn’t good at all.

The guard didn’t say anything back to whatever Mr. Hail said. Instead, he turned and jolted slightly when he saw I was behind him. He nodded at me and stepped back into the elevator, pressing the button to close the doors.

I’d turned to watch the guard and realized it would have been better to keep an eye on Mr. Hail. If I had, I wouldn’t have been shitting bricks to have to face him. However, I couldn’t stay looking at the doors forever. It started to get to the point of awkwardness.

Sucking in a breath, I slowly moved back to where Mr. Hail still stood. His arms were crossed over his broad chest now. A chest that was covered in something I didn’t expect. He wasn’t in a suit. No, he dressed casually in jeans, boots, and a T-shirt with what looked like some band’s logo splashed over the front of it.

I really felt overdressed and uncomfortable.

“You wore suit.” His accent rolled through me and lit up my nerves. I’d always been a sucker for accents.

I swallowed, looked down at myself, nodded before lifting my gaze back up, and up some more, since he was taller, before nodding again. The whole time I gave myself a pep talk: I had to harden myself against his voice. “Yes,” I said softly.

He grunted. “Come,” he ordered before spinning around and stalking off.

He scared me, aroused me, and intrigued me—all within a matter of moments since I’d seen him.

I took a step his way and then back again.

Shit, shit, shit.