Amusement brightened his gaze. “You’re welcome, darling.”
“This is the second time I’ve seen you two together this week,” Dr. Fitzgerald mused, breaking from the crowd. Genuine curiosity lit his handsome features, his lips twitching at the sides. Unlike the man beside him, who appeared to be contemplating the best way to disfigure her demon.
“Worried I might steal her?” Issac asked, his lips brushing her cheek, earning him a harder glare from Tom.
What is his problem? she wondered. Issac might not be Boyfriend of the Year material, but he wasn’t that bad.
Jealousy popped into her head as a potential cause, but she quickly tossed it out. Tom treated her like a younger sister, just as he did Lizzie.
No. Something else was at play here. But what?
Dr. Fitzgerald arched a dark blond brow. “Should I be worried?”
“Absolutely,” Issac replied against her neck, his possessive touch causing her to shiver. Careful, Stas. Just a business deal. “Are you ready to eat, darling?” he asked softly, ignoring all the eyes on them and focusing on her.
More than a few of their spectators wore surprised expressions, including Dr. Fitzgerald. Stas’s stomach fluttered and heat crawled up her neck. She much preferred being the ignored arm candy to being the center of attention.
“Sure,” she managed to reply, her throat dry. A light buzz hummed in her head from the two glasses of champagne she’d consumed on her empty stomach. So yes, she should probably eat something, too.
“Brilliant.” Issac engaged the others in a few parting words, his smile enigmatic. When the Fitzgeralds joined the conversation, she had to fight the urge to fan herself. The three of them were magnetism on steroids. Further proof that this was not her world. Not by a long shot.
“Shall we?” her demon asked when the crowd dispersed.
Dr. Fitzgerald led the way. Tom lingered for a moment longer before he finally turned to follow his father. Stas took a step, only to be pulled back into Issac’s side.
“Don’t mention your reaction to the immunizations.” The words were a breath against her ear, so low she almost missed them. “If they ask, the inoculations made you queasy, but you were otherwise fine.”
Her stomach clenched, the stark reminder drizzling ice through her veins.
Human Resources had left her a voicemail during her hair appointment today. She passed her security exam, and they wanted to schedule her orientation.
That was what she meant to tell Issac. She wanted to know why he suspected the CRF’s involvement in her near-death experience because he never actually told her.
This whole day had been a fairy-tale escape from reality.
And now that reality sat several feet away at a table they were all meant to share for dinner.
“Are you implying they know about the poison?” she asked, studying Issac’s face for something, anything, that would give her reason to believe him. To suspect the man she considered a role model of having any involvement in her experience this week.
Because if his company truly was poising potential employees, he would know about it.
He’d never authorize such methods. Would he?
“I’m warning you that anyone could be listening,” Issac replied softly. “Do you understand?”
She did, but that wasn’t what she’d asked. “Does he know or not, Issac?”
“That’s not for me to say. Observe and learn.” He brushed his lips over hers, holding her gaze with an intent that made her heart race. “Trust me.”
10
Dangerous Romance
Observe and learn.
Stas could do that.
Issac sat on her left, his palm resting on her upper thigh. His warm fingers caressed her bare skin through the slit of her dress while he engaged Doctor Fitzgerald in a conversation about the stock market. She gathered they shared similar investment strategies. Their easy candor also suggested they were friends, something Issac had failed to mention.
Yet, he’d accused Doctor Fitzgerald’s company of trying to kill her.
One would think a friendship with the organization’s CEO might be a useful detail, or a point of discussion.
Nope.
It left Stas irritated and confused, and that casual touch against her leg really needed to stop because it only bewildered her more.
So remove his hand.
Such a simple idea, one her mind understood where her body didn’t.
I’m going insane.
“So, how is Aidan?” Doctor Fitzgerald asked as he set his napkin down on the table. He’d finished his food, while hers remained mostly untouched. Not because she disliked the taste, but because her appetite appeared to be nonexistent—a complication of her nerves rioting inside. The last thing she wanted to do was eat and be sick all over the table.
“He’s well, which, of course, you already know,” Issac replied, his thumb still against her skin.
Doctor Fitzgerald grinned. “Yes, true. I was surprised to see him at dinner the other night.”
“That’s one word for it,” Tom remarked. He sat between his father and a young blonde woman. Her name began with a T. Tina? Taylor? Tiffany?
Whoever she was, she belonged to the family who filled out the rest of their table. All blondes, though Stas suspected the mother might dye her hair to match. She possessed a fake quality that several others in the room rivaled.
“Yes, he considered stopping by to say hello but didn’t want to make the table uncomfortable,” Issac said with a pointed look at Tom.
Doctor Fitzgerald chuckled. “Something you had no problem doing, hmm?” He winked at Stas, the indication clear.
They’re talking about graduation dinner. Aidan must have been the male at Issac’s table.
“Ah, well, I had a reason to stop by.” Issac squeezed her thigh as he tilted his head toward her. “My beautiful woman.”
She snorted. Cheesy line.
He must have sensed her thoughts because his fingers trailed higher, his thumb nearly caressing the edge of her lace thong. The actions were hidden by the table, his expression politely bored.
Stas fought the urge to squirm, not wanting to draw attention to herself, but holy hell, her skin was on fire.
“I’ll extend your regards to Aidan,” Issac said smoothly. “He’s in town for another week or so.”
Goose bumps scattered down her legs as he began to sketch a foreign pattern against her flesh. Every upward swipe caused her muscles to tighten, the taunting motion so incredibly inappropriate. Yet, her hands refused to react, her fingers curling into her palms instead as she fought the sensations he stirred inside.
This is wrong.
I shouldn’t be enjoying this.
There’s clearly something wrong with me.
She glanced at him, catching the wicked twinkle in his gaze. And it hit her—the purpose. Not necessarily to seduce, but to distract. She’d been unnaturally quiet through dinner, hardly touching her food, something that wasn’t like her at all. Something others who knew her might notice.
He wanted her to relax.
Or maybe he wanted to take her mind off her situation.
Devious man.
She almost grabbed his wrist, but his thumb finally found the fabric between her legs. A subtle brush, one that caused her nipples to stiffen and her breath to catch.
So decadent and wanton, and not her at all.
What is this man doing to me?
She squeezed her legs together, realizing too late that the move trapped his hand.
Shit. This—
The clearing of a throat had her glancing at Doctor Fitzgerald. He gazed at her expectantly. She must have missed a question.
“Uh, I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” The breathless note in her voice seemed to amuse her demon. His lips twitched as his gaze dropped to her breasts—slowly, purposefully.
If she could move her legs, she would kick him. But she’d trapped his fingers between her thighs. Who
knew what he’d do if she released him.
“I asked if you heard from Human Resources yet on your start date,” Doctor Fitzgerald said.
Her heart dropped to her stomach, her limbs loosening. Issac slid his palm down to her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze, playtime over. His touch, however, meant everything to her. I’m here, he was saying. And she believed him. An indication of trust that surprised her enough to clear the cobwebs from her throat and allow her to reply.
“Yeah, they called today to schedule my orientation, but I received the voicemail too late to phone them back.” Mostly true. She hadn’t wanted to call them back, unsure of what to say.
“Fantastic. The clearance process can take so long that I was worried it might be a few weeks before you heard anything. Are you excited?”
She tried for a smile and hoped it translated. “Of course.”
A round of applause saved her from commenting further as a short, white-haired woman took the podium to introduce the evening’s keynote speaker. Stas recognized the name, but not the man who approached. He had a nice voice, one that carried and captivated as he highlighted various humanitarian efforts throughout the world and commended the committee who organized this event. Stas gathered by the end that the gala’s purpose revolved around raising money for various relief organizations.
The elderly woman took the podium again to thank a few key sponsors, including Wakefield Pharmaceuticals and the CRF, who were both noted as top-level supporters. There were a few other items mentioned to draw out the program before she finally moved on to announce this year’s recipient of the Humanitarian of the Year Award.
Everyone clapped as Doctor Fitzgerald made his way to the stage, his popularity amongst the gala attendees evident. He grinned before holding up a hand to quiet the warm welcome. Charismatic and commanding, he calmed the audience with that gesture alone.
“Good evening. I can’t even begin to say how honored I am to be here tonight, receiving the Humanitarian of the Year Award. I honestly don’t feel I deserve it, as I’m only doing what my heart tells me to, and really all the hard work is done by a team of ten-thousand-plus employees. I just show up every day and try to direct them.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh that earned him several grins throughout the ballroom.
He continued speaking, the adoration and respect palpable throughout the room.
With each word, he reminded Stas why she idolized him. Why she wanted to work for him. Why she trusted him. He was magnanimous and humble, and not the kind of man who would authorize poisoning his employees.
There had to be another explanation.
Maybe someone else poisoned her on her way home Tuesday. The whole afternoon was fuzzy, making it entirely plausible that someone slipped her something without her knowing. That made more sense than her employer trying to kill her. The CRF wasn’t even related to the supernatural world. They had no reason to give her the Nizari serum because they didn’t know fledglings existed.
Except…
“I suspect the CRF used the Nizari poison on you to test your bloodline.” Was it only this morning Issac spoke those words? They implied the CRF might know about the supernatural, but he never explained his suspicion.
He’s wrong. He has to be wrong.
Six years of knowing the enigmatic man onstage trumped a fake two-week relationship with a demon. Stas didn’t even know how to define Ichorian, for crying out loud.
Maybe Issac saved her life… or maybe he was toying with her.
This whole arrangement made no sense. Dating for information. She saw the way other women looked at him. Issac Wakefield didn’t need to bribe a woman for a date. There was more to this that she didn’t know.
Because he won’t tell me anything.
Annoyance bubbled inside her, every passing moment making her want to turn and demand answers right now. He’d distracted her earlier with his seductive touch and smile and general sex appeal. Ridiculous. She’d never allowed a male to corrupt her in this way, and she’d be—
The crowd erupted into a standing ovation, pulling her back to the stage, where Doctor Fitzgerald stood with a slight flush painting his cheeks. He never could take praise very well, always deferring to others he felt deserved it more.
Not a killer.
Or a psychopath.
Unlike the demon beside her, whom she found outside a murder scene.
Owen...
Why was Issac there that day? He never explained, just kept her in suspense while forcing her into this charade for answers. Answers he didn’t seem all that keen on giving.
But he did save my life.
Maybe.
“Aidan and Osiris would approve,” Issac murmured as Doctor Fitzgerald rejoined them.
“Yeah? Maybe you’ll try for it next year,” her mentor replied, smirking.
“Not bloody likely.”
History radiated between them, underlined in a palpable fondness that left her even more flabbergasted. How could Issac possibly suspect the CRF of trying to kill her? Unless he knew something about the organization that she didn’t.
Ugh, she was thinking in circles and giving herself a headache.
The older woman stood at the podium again, making parting comments about the art auction and recommending everyone keep drinking champagne and wine. While Stas agreed wholeheartedly in the alcohol plan, she needed to take a breath. Alone.
“I’ll be right back,” she said quietly, excusing herself for the restroom.
She found it just outside the doors and quickly grabbed an embroidered cloth towel from the stack. Definitely a fancy hotel. Running it beneath cool water first, she used it to dab at her face, frustrated by the two splotches of pink decorating her cheeks.
Alcohol mingled with confusion created a decidedly unattractive look.
Just breathe, she told herself. This is almost done. Then you can demand some answers.
Or maybe just march back to the table, grab Issac by the arm, and growl a few demands in his ear.
No. That’d just create a scene, and she preferred to stay hidden.
She tossed the cloth into the basket by the door and walked out to find Tom waiting for her. He leaned against the wall, one foot crossed over the other and his hands tucked into his pockets. Lizzie would have swooned at the sight, his blond hair messy as if he’d just run his fingers through it several times.
But there was nothing attractive about the fury radiating in his gaze as she approached him.
“The Arcadia, ten o’clock tomorrow night. Go there, then tell me if Wakefield’s still worth it.” Tom pushed away from the wall and started down the hall. She caught his arm.
“Tom, what—”
“No, Stas.” He shook her off and leveled her with one of the harshest looks she’d ever received from him. She took a step back. This was the man who led rescue missions all over the world, the domineering leader, not the big brother she knew and adored.
“Don’t give me that wounded look. I’ve tried to warn you, but you won’t listen. So go tomorrow and see for yourself. I suggest you wear something black. Call me when you’re ready to talk about it.”
His long strides ate up the hallway too fast for her to keep up.
“Tom, hold—” She cut off the command, knowing it would have forced him to halt in place. A dark part of her yearned to take over and demand he listen, and she almost did. But she knew better. People died when she used her abilities.
Like my parents.
Tom didn’t pause or glance backward, just followed the stairs down to the lobby instead, bypassing the ballroom.
Her heart stuttered, her heels rooted to the floor. What am I supposed to do with that?
Doctor Fitzgerald walked out of the ballroom, frowning after the direction his son had headed. “Did Tom just leave?” he asked when he realized she stood only a few feet away from him.
“I think so,” she said, swallowing.
He sighed and gave her an apologetic shake of his head. “I hop
e he wasn’t too hard on you. Issac isn’t his favorite person.”
“I’ve gathered that.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll come around.” He put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it in a fatherly way. “I meant to check in on you this week to ask how you’re feeling.”
Her brow furrowed. “Feeling?” she repeated, warning bells sounding in her head.
He nodded. “Yeah, I saw you leaving the building Tuesday and you didn’t look like yourself. Was everything all right?”
Every muscle in her body threatened to lock in place, but the hand on her shoulder forced her to remain calm. If she reacted outwardly in any way, he’d sense it. “Yeah, it was the shots. They upset my stomach.”
Shock lit his features. “Shots?”
“From the medical exam.”
“You were given injections during your exam?” Did he look uneasy, or was that her imagination?
“Uh, yeah. Doctor Patel said my job might require travel.”
His blond eyebrows met his hairline. “Really?”
Not a comforting reaction. “So, uh, that’s not normal, then?”
“No, it most certainly is not. Inoculations are meant for our paramilitary unit only.” He let go of her shoulder to pull out his phone. He typed while he spoke. “I’ll be meeting with the medical director first thing Monday. This is news to me.”
Her muscles went weak as all the tension left her body. If the CRF really did try to poison her, Doctor Fitzgerald hadn’t known about it.
“Anita should have asked you basic questions, taken vitals, and let you go,” he continued. “The vaccinations didn’t negatively impact you at all, did they?”
Her lower back tingled, right around her birthmark. She fought the urge to scratch it while considering how to reply. Part of her yearned to tell him the truth, but instinct pulled her back from that leap of faith. There were too many missing pieces in this puzzle to trust anyone. He’d never believe her anyway, and she really didn’t want to have to prove it by using her persuasive gift.
She cleared her throat. “Honestly, I felt a little woozy after the exam, but I slept it off.”
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 132
