Not For Sale

“Perhaps you weren’t listening to everything I said on Monday,” Lucas said with icy precision. “Rostov refuses to have anyone he thinks of as a functionary present tonight. He says that’s what official translators are, and perhaps they are, in his world, but what it comes down to is—”

“Dani can pretend to be your date.”

Lucas’s mouth twisted. “I don’t think I can fool our Russian friend into thinking I’ve suddenly decided to go in for boys.”

“Dani’s a girl, sir. A gorgeous girl. She’s smart, too. And she speaks Russian.”

Lucas felt a flare of hope. Then he faced reality. A girl, sight unseen? For an evening as important as this? No way. For all he knew, he’d be compounding what was already a mess into a disaster.

“Forget it.”

“Sir, it would work.”

Lucas shook his head. “It’s clever, Jack, but this is a twenty billion dollar deal. I can’t run the risk of this woman screwing things.”

Gordon laughed. Lucas’s eyes narrowed to emerald slits.

“Did I say something amusing?”

“No, no, of course not. Look, I’ve know Dani for years. She’s exactly what you need for a situation like this.”

“And if I were foolish enough to say yes to your suggestion, she would do this because…?”

“Like I said. We’re old friends. She’d do it as a favor to me.”

A muscle flickered in Lucas’s jaw. A twenty billion dollar deal, hinging on a man who drank too much vodka, a woman who had more limbs and libido than an octopus and a woman he’d never met?

Impossible.

And impossible to pass up.

“All right,” he said sharply. “Call her.”

Jack Gordon’s eyebrows rose. “You mean it?”

“Isn’t that what this conversation was all about? Call her. Tell her—”

“Dani. Dani Sinclair.”

“Dani. Tell her I’ll pick her up at seven-thirty. Where does she live?”

“She’ll meet you,” Jack said quickly.

“The lobby of the Palace. Eight o’clock sharp. No. Make it ten of the hour.” That way, he’d have time to hand the Sinclair woman cab fare and get rid of her if she turned out to be totally wrong for the job. “Tell her to dress appropriately.” He paused. “She can do that, can’t she?”

“She’ll dress appropriately, sir.”

“And, of course, make it clear I’ll pay her for her time. Say, one thousand dollars for the evening.”

He could see Gordon all but swallowing another laugh. Yes, Lucas thought coldly, why wouldn’t he find his employer’s predicament amusing? If this worked, he could take credit for saving Lucas’s corporate ass. But oh, if it didn’t…

“That sounds fine, sir.” Gordon held out his hand. “Good luck.”

Lucas looked at the outstretched hand, fought back a sense of repugnance he knew was foolish and accepted the handshake.

Jack Gordon hurried back to his own office before he pulled out his cell and hit a speed dial digit.

“Dani. Baby, have I got a deal for you!”

He explained as quickly as possible; Dani Sinclair was not one for long conversations but then, that wasn’t what men paid her for. When he’d finished, he heard the slow exhalation of her breath.

“So, let me get this straight. You told some guy—”

“Not just some guy, baby. Lucas Vieira. The Lucas Vieira. The guy with more money than God.”

“You told him I’d give him a date?”

“Yeah. Only, not that kind of date. This is dinner with Vieira, a Russian guy and the guy’s wife. You need to act like you and Vieira are a thing. And you need to translate.” Jack laughed softly. “I guess taking a degree in Cyrillic languages was a good idea after all.”

“I’m taking my Master’s,” Dani Sinclair said, “and a girl has to think about her future.” She paused. “How much did you say he’ll pay?”

“A thousand.”

Dani laughed. “Did you forget my going rate, Jack? It’s ten thousand for the evening.”

“Baby, we go way back. Elementary school. Middle school. High school.”

“Fine. I’ll give you a special discount. Five thousand.”

“Jeez. For a meal?”

“And, of course, my usual fee if your Mr. Vieira wants anything else.”

Jack Gordon rubbed the top of his head. “If he wants more, you can negotiate the fee yourself.”

Dani chuckled. “Jack, you wily fox. You haven’t told him about me. What, you want him to be shocked?”

“I want him to owe me,” Jack Gordon said, his tone suddenly cold. “And he will, no matter how this goes.”

“Charming. Okay, so when does this happen?”

“I thought I told you. Tonight. The Palace lobby. Ten minutes of eight.”

“Oh, but I…” Dani fell silent. Five K to eat a fancy meal, talk some Russian and in between, pretend she was the date of Lucas Vieira, the gorgeous, sexy, take-no-prisoners Wall Street tough guy. And a minimum of ten K if he ended up wanting to prolong the evening.

So tempting. If only she could do it. Trouble was, she already had a date for tonight, with a Texas oilman who came through the city once a month like clockwork.

There had to be a way…