Red Reaper - Soldiers of Fortune [book one]

Chapter THREE

Lucky O'Cléirigh

After an awkward dinner where I speak as uncharacteristically little as possible for fear of saying something stupid infront of my sister and her husband, I stand in quiet solitude out on the terrace.. Sipping on my glass of white wine, I look out over the twinkling buildings that surround my sister's midtown apartment.. The city is so peaceful from above..

Behind me the glass door slides open and I turn to see Konstantin step a shiny leather Oxford out into the brisk night air.. He sets his highball down on the table and taps at a packet of white labeled cigarettes.. Joining me by the balustrade he holds the shiny white box out to me in offering..

I lift a hand to politely decline.. "Oh no, thank you, but I don't smoke.."

He smirks a teasing smile as he sticks the cigarette between his lips and I watch the way it bounces as he speaks.. "Of courze.. Amerikos, the healthy humanitarianz have washed clean 'zat beautiful brain.. You are one of 'zem!"

He pauses and chuckles dryly with the click of his tongue, taking the cigarette from his mouth and wagging a teasing finger in disapproval.. "Tsk tsk, Malishka.. Smoking iz bad."

I can't entirely tell if he is being sarcastic or if he is serious, but I assume he is kidding because the way he smiles is insultngly iridescent, like a grizzly bear with a mouthful of white diamonds.. He sticks the smoke back between his lips before digging through his pockets to find a book of matches..

"I'm not American.." I argue playfully as I peer at him over the rim of my wine glass, taking a stabilising gulp to calm my knotted nerves.. "I'm lucky enough to be Irish!"

"Da, krasivaya!" He cheers, lifting his palms together in praise.. "You are Irlandtsy, like Grace O'malley.."

I swirl the wine in the glass and squint at him with a snicker.. He is so straightforward and sardonic that it is impossible to read his humour.. "You mean the Irish pirate queen?"

He grins back at me in wicked delight.. "Ah, so you know thiz story?"

"O'course I do.. She commanded over twenty ships and two hundred men.." Feeling flushed and fidgety I finish my drink a little too fast.. "I'm just surprised that you know it!"

He takes a step closer to stand beside me, leaning his elbows against the rail and tipping his head back to look up at the sky.. "Fearsome, they say she waz.. I appreciate thiz type ov' v'woman."

I can smell his masculine scent of liquorice and smoke in the air and something about what he is saying sounds like a dare.. Like he is testing me, to find out if I am fearsome.. Or maybe he is teasing me by saying I am not.. I can't quite figure him out..

"That is what they say.." I watch as he strikes a match and when my curiosity reaches its tipping point, I succumb to the pressure of his challenge.. "Actually.. I will take one."