Thor (Recherché #1) Read Online Free Page A

thousand.”
    “Well, I’m all about free food.”
    “Is that your way of saying I’m paying tonight?” I smile.  He chuckles and then narrows his eyes on me. His index finger gently taps over his bottom lip as though he’s trying to work me out or something. The longer he looks at me the harder my heart beats until all I can hear is my own pulse hammering in my ears. I can’t tear my gaze from his, and it’s as though he has a physical hold on me and he’s pulling, tugging me towards him.
    A throat clears beside us and I jump. The waiter stands there smiling politely. “Can I get you something to drink?”
    “Wine. I need wine.” I say. Thor keeps his eyes fixed on the wine list in front of him but I don’t miss the way his lips twitch, fighting a smile. We both order food, and I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the menu the entire time. I just need a second to regroup.
    The waiter bustles away and I’m left with the full force of his stare again. “So, Thor, if you’re to be my date I guess I should know something about you.”
    Casually leaning back in his chair, he taps his fingertips on the table top. “Ask away, Poppy.” The way he says my name makes me shiver and I almost want to slap myself.
    “What do you do for a living?” His expression shifts, becoming less playful and more serious for a second.
    “I run a business in the hospitality sector.” He says slowly. “How about you?”
    “I’m an artist.”
    The waiter comes back and opens a bottle of wine, pouring two glasses for us.
    “Thank you.” I say. He nods and walks away.
    “How does your father feel about you being an artist?” He asks the question carefully but I know exactly what he’s getting at.
    “Let’s just say there’s a reason why Violet is the golden girl.” I pick up the wine and take a healthy gulp.
    He shrugs. “Breaking the mold isn’t a bad thing. Do what you love and love what you do.”
    I smile. Looks and intelligence. He must be a psycho. There’s no other explanation.
     
     

 
    It’s Saturday morning and I’m on my way to pick Poppy up. I’m never up this early on a weekend, but I even moved a client last night just so I wouldn’t turn up looking like I’d been run over. I’m not a day time, be your date at a wedding kind of guy, but fuck it. Money’s money, right? And it might not be so bad. At the very least the sister showdown should be amusing. Plus, I get to stare at Poppy’s sweet arse all day. The girl is smoking hot and the more I spoke to her the more I actually liked her. After our conversation the other night we had dinner, we talked, it was…normal. And I realised it’s because she doesn’t know I’m an escort. She doesn’t treat me like something she paid for or act as though she wants anything from me. As far as she’s concerned I’m just a friend of a friend who’s agreed to go to a wedding with her. For a second I feel bad about deceiving her, but then I remember that it’s just a job. This job just so happens to involve the client not knowing she’s a client. That’s not on me. That’s on her friend.
    I pull up outside her building and press the buzzer for her apartment. There’s a crackling sound followed by a mumbled curse.
    “I’m coming!” She practically shouts and then hangs up. I stare at the intercom for a few seconds wondering if she’s going to say something else. She doesn’t.
    A few minutes later the door opens and Poppy hops through it. Damn . She’s wearing a pale blue dress that drops in a v at her chest exposing just enough cleavage for me to confidently say she’s a D cup. The material clings to her tiny waist before following the flare of her hips. Her red hair is pinned up with a small blue flower tucked behind her ear. She’s the picture of elegance until I notice that she has one shoe in her hand, the other on her foot. I raise an eyebrow at her and she rolls her eyes.
    “Look, if you think you could make it down two flights of stairs in