Darkest Temptation (New York Billionaires Book 4)

34| Touch

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Touch

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Chapter 34: Touch (Rhys's POV)

"Is this really necessary?" Stella asked as she jogged down the stairs, zipping her jacket up to her chest. 

I watched in amusement until she stopped before me, her high ponytail still bobbing and swaying left to right. "It's new seeing you dressed like this, Ms. Almonte. Athleticism suits you," I smirked, taking a strand from her ponytail and twirling it around my finger, tugging at it until she swatted my hand away. 

She stared at me, a tiny pout playing on her lips. "I'm not very interested in learning how to work a gun," she said. 

"I'm not just taking you for gun training." 

Folding her arms across her chest, she held my gaze sharply. "I'm not very interested in physical combat either." 

Taking her chin between my fingers, I tilted it up. "As long as you know how to defend yourself." 

"I can defend myself," she retorted. 

I hummed lightly. "Then prove it." 

Her eyes narrowed just a sliver and I could see the fire that lit up within her. "Fine. Let's go." Her shoulder bumped against my arm as she strutted off and out the front door. 

Chuckling under my breath, I trailed behind her and opened the door for her once we reached the car. 

We arrived at The Veil shortly after and I'd made sure before we left that the private shooting range that required special access would be empty and the gym next to that in the basement would too. Stella fell into step beside me as we walked past the front desk and entered the elevator, arriving in the basement. Once I swiped my card and the locked glass door slid open, we entered the shooting range. 

A sharp gasp escaped her as a loud gunshot echoed throughout the range, causing both of us to come to a halt. Stella stumbled, losing her balance and catching my arm to maintain herself. 

I glanced down at her, biting back a smile and she met my gaze, pulling away quickly and standing upright. "Defending yourself, remember? Scared, are we?" I taunted her. 

Rolling her eyes, she ignored me and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, glancing ahead at the long aisle of tables with black dividers between each station for each shooter. We continued slowly walking ahead. "Don't you need a license for this?" she asked softly. 

"Of course you do. Entry is prohibited without it," I answered. 

"I don't have a gun license, Mr. Romanov," she huffed. 

"You'll have it by tomorrow morning." 

She stared at me in disbelief but faced ahead as we came to a stop near the back of the room where the counter was to sign in for a gun. While Stella took in the place, I glanced from the counter to the very last station. 

"Romanov," came a familiar greeting followed by a very familiar face. 

I released a breath, tucking my hands into my pockets. "Tristan."