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his hand to her as well.
    “You’ve got enough going on here that I think you can do what we need. I’ll give you sixty days to get some results. If I’m not happy, I’ll have to rethink my decision.”
    Alexandra gave him her most persuasive smile, the one she had used to get her dad to buy her anything she wanted…
like my first motorcycle.
    “We won’t need that long to prove to you we can do what you want.”
    His eyebrows rose, while his eyes bored into her. “I hope so.”
    Once the door had closed behind him, Bill launched into his version of what had just happened. Alexandra forced herself to concentrate on his words.
    And for a short time, she was able to keep her head in the game and ignore the persistent ache between her legs that reminded her she had done some vigorous and energetic fucking over the weekend.
    * * * *
    Tuesday afternoon Dmitri returned to the biker bar he’d been introduced to on Saturday night. He’d spent the past two days looking for some kind of employment.
    If I’m gonna stick around and try to tame that redheaded wildcat, I’m gonna need a way to pay for shit and a place to stay. I wonder if Ivan knows anyone from around here.
    He took a sip from the shot the bartender placed in front of him, then sent a text to Ivan. When he was done he looked up and watched idly as Joe, the bartender answered the phone.
    “What? You know what it’s like in here tonight! What the fuck do you mean you can’t come in?”
    As the person on the other end of the line spoke, the bartender’s expression got angrier.
    “I don’t care how you’re feeling. You just need to grow a pair and tell that bitch you’re coming to work…yeah, I know she’s got an itch only you can scratch.”
    Don’t they all?
Dmitri smiled.
    “Then fuck you! Don’t bother coming back; jag-off! Consider yourself fired!”
    After slamming the phone down, the bartender strode angrily over to the small sink under the bar where Dmitri sat and splashed water everywhere as he took out his bad mood on the glasses.
    “Trouble?” Dmitri asked as he watched the second broken glass being tossed into the garbage.
    “Yeah. Son of a bitch who’s been my bouncer on weeknights has got himself a new piece. Some young bimbo who keeps him up all night fucking her, then he’s too damned tired to come to work. Asshole.”
    Dmitri looked around at the sparse crowd doing some late afternoon drinking.
    “Don’t look to me like that’s gonna be a problem tonight.”
    “No? Tuesday night is darts contest night. By seven this place’ll be packed. And once they all get good and tanked, they start accusing each other of cheating and the fighting starts. I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna keep up with the drinks
and
collect the cover charge
and
keep the peace around here.”
    Dmitri leaned forward. “Are your bouncers allowed to have a few drinks while they work?”
    Joe looked up quickly. “Why? You interested?”
    “I might be.”
    He appraised Dmitri’s size and seemed pleased with what he saw.
    “You’re the one came in with Alex on Saturday night, right? Hit one of her riders and knocked him unconscious without anyone seeing what you did?”
    Dmitri nodded.
    “Ten bucks an hour and all the vodka you can drink, as long as you keep everyone playing nice together. You can even order some food while you’re working and it’ll be part of your pay. I’ll throw in ten percent of the cover charge if you stop any trouble before it gets out of hand. Deal?”
    “Cash?”
    Joe’s eyes narrowed. “Why? You illegal?”
    Unruffled, Dmitri smiled blandly. “Nah. I just hate having
the man
take a big chunk out of what I earn.”
    Joe nodded. “Okay, fine. Cash. Makes it easier for my accountant that way.”
    “Deal,” Dmitri said as he shook the hand thrust in front of his face and turned to the door.
    “I should go hang around by the main door, right?”
    Joe poured another shot in his glass and nodded.
    “Five bucks to