Chapter Six
Holly
The last time I entered this club had been the night of Anna’s bachelorette party. The place was the hottest spot in the city, even if I didn’t want to admit it.
It had once been a textile factory, and the interior remained a tribute to its former days with all the iron and steel. Now the industrial look was draped in elegance and gleamed with sophistication. Chrome tables and satin couches, overflowing with gorgeous guests in their designer labels, circled the exterior of the dance area.
The dancers bumped into each other as they crowded the main attraction, the dance floor, moving to the pulsating beats of the DJ, who tonight was spinning actual vinyl instead of CDJs, a great selection ranging from Calvin Harris to the more old-school beats of New Order. Every few minutes, a touch of fog burst from a machine filling the area as the lights flickered and flashed in rhythmic beat with the music, too.
Chic and posh. Too-tall heels. Champagne flutes or martini glasses in hands. A lit-up mirror behind the wall of liquor at the main bar. Yeah, the place was amazing. But . . . it belonged to the man I wanted to hate. Correction, did hate.
I stood from the chair at the high-top table we’d been sitting at while we waited for my brother to join us. “He’s here,” I announced at the sight of Sean entering the main doors into the club, a woman attached to him as well—her arm tight with his as they strode toward us.
Harrison had invited Sean last night while I’d been at the park nearly getting mugged.
“Did you mention your plan for tonight to him?” I looked back toward the bar, wondering if Sebastian had made an appearance yet. Of course, I usually felt the man before I saw him.
“Yeah, I did.” He stood once Sean was before us.
“Hey, Sweets.” Sean pulled me in for a hug and kissed my cheek, then shook Harrison’s hand. “This is . . .”
Oh please God, remember your date’s name. Don’t be that guy anymore.
“Trisha,” he said as if he’d worked damn hard to remember. “We just met in spin class this morning,” Sean explained as if reading my thoughts.
“Since when do you do spin class?” I tried not to laugh at the picture of my brother on a stationary bike inside a gym.
“I think he may have followed me in there.” Trisha’s white teeth flashed when her red lips spread into a wide smile. Her lips matched the tight red dress that wrapped around her body like it’d been painted on, barely covering much of her legs. “He had no idea what to do.”
“Or how damn hard it’d be to ride a bloody bike,” Sean said with a laugh.
“Spin is pretty big in Hollywood. Hot yoga, too,” Harrison spoke up.
“Oh?” I stole a look at him. “You do hot yoga?”
“Of course.” The flashing lights crossed his face, making his gray eyes glimmer. “Don’t you?” he teased.
“Six a.m. classes before work a few times a week. Helps relax me before I start my day.”
“Maybe I’ll join you on my next visit,” he offered, and I could feel Sean’s burning gaze on us. His intense scrupulous stare. He didn’t like what he’d heard regarding Harrison’s reputation. The man reminded him too much of himself.
We all approached the bar area after exchanging a few more words.
“Can I get you two anything to drink?” The bartender was pretty, and totally Ethan’s type. Light blonde hair in a high ponytail, a black scoop-neck tee with the words Bite Me in red letters below her cleavage, and blue lipstick to match her nails.
“Bottle of Armand de Brignac, please,” Sean ordered, palms on the counter, eyes straight on her.
The bartender placed a chilled bottle on the counter, and the signature Ace of Spades at the center of the gold bottle held my eye.
“You have good taste,” she said with a European accent, which was deep and sexy. And apparently like candy to my brother, because he couldn’t seem to wipe the stupid grin from his face. Guess she was also his type.
She smiled at him while opening the bottle, but there was something more playful than sexy in her expression, like she was teasing him into believing he had a chance with her. And I instantly loved her for that.
“We should celebrate. A toast to new friends,” Sean said while passing out the flutes.
I quickly guzzled the expensive liquid, not giving the bubbles time to tickle the back of my throat.
“A word?” Sean asked a moment later and tipped his head to the side. I silently allowed him to lead me away from the bar and off to the side of the dance floor. “You seem tense. You okay about tonight?”
“Harrison may cancel the deal because of Renaud. So no, I’m not okay,” I blurted, hoping he could hear me over the sudden changeover of songs to one that had a deeper bass, and I waved away the fog that began to fill the space between us.
“Don’t worry. We have a plan.”
Wait, what? Before I could ask more, my skin prickled with awareness.
My cousin Bree’s young son, Jack, would call these “Spidey” senses. I was caught up in an insane web of desire—every inch of my body consumed by tingles, every hair standing on end whenever Sebastian was in the same room.
“He’s here,” he said, and I turned toward the bar, waving away more fog to get a clear view. “We shouldn’t leave Harrison alone with Sebastian.” Sean took hold of my elbow as if he’d known my knees were about to buckle.
Sebastian had also brought a date. Of course. A woman that could be Heidi Klum’s younger sister. Tall. Blonde. Long legs that went down to nude slingback heels. A barely there, glitzy silver dress. Her arm was around his waist, and although it was hard to tell from my vantage point, his hand was most likely positioned on her ass. She probably didn’t just take hot yoga, with her figure, she could instruct it, too.
I bet he had a little black book filled to the brim with women’s names and phone numbers. Maybe more than one book.
But when his mouth opened, and he laughed at something someone said—dear God in heaven, I stopped in my tracks.
His white teeth flashed, and the column of his throat tightened with the movement, and if I didn’t see him laughing myself, I never would’ve believed it.
“Holly?” Sean urged me to move, but how could I?
Sebastian was so close. Legs encased in dark trousers, an untucked, black button-down dress shirt with sleeves rolled at the elbows, and a simple watch. If Bella thought Harrison was Mr. Sex on a Stick, then dressed in this semi-casual but still sophisticated outfit, Sebastian looked like Mr. He Giveth All The Orgasms God.
When Sebastian’s eyes grabbed hold of mine, his laugh died. And I was the reason, wasn’t I?
“What’s wrong?” Sean whispered into my ear since I was still glued in place.
All I could think about was how Sebastian’s hands had felt when he’d held me while dancing, and how his eyes had pierced right through me as if, as crazy as it sounded, he truly cared about me.
But the man he’d been last night in the park, moving so fast, effortlessly taking down the mugger—punching and punching—I had to remember him, too, didn’t I?
I just wasn’t sure which version of Sebastian was more dangerous to me. Most likely both.
“It’s nothing.” I went for the thin strap of my black dress when it slipped from my shoulder to my arm and secured it back in place.
One hard swallow. And two quick breaths. Now I was ready to walk. Sort of. Maybe.
But this time, Sean wasn’t prepared to move. He tugged at my arm and turned me toward him. “I’m worried. What’s going on?”
What would he think if he knew I desired a man no one trusted? I had to get a grip. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Of course.” I rejoined everyone, and Harrison placed his hand on the small of my back. The dress I wore fit my body like a glove and stopped just short of my knees. And I had on my strappy and very sexy heels.
Sebastian noticed the position of Harrison’s hand, and he removed his pal
m from his date’s back and placed it on the counter at his side. His palm flattened, and his fingers seemed to flex and arch almost aggressively like he was resisting an urge of some kind. The veins in his forearm tightened along with the fit of the material around his bicep.
“I’m Holly.” I reached for Sebastian’s date’s hand since he hadn’t bothered to introduce us.
“Ainsley.” Her gaze moved over my body. Assessing me as competition, even though to everyone with a pulse at the club, it appeared I was there with Harrison.
“I have a private room upstairs reserved for us.” Sebastian lifted his hand from the bar and pointed to the second level. “You ladies will excuse us?” He didn’t wait for an answer from Trisha or Ainsley. “Drinks on me,” he informed my new favorite bartender. “Anything they want.”
“Be back soon.” Sean leaned in to press a kiss to Trisha’s cheek. I wondered if Sebastian would do the same with his date, but he didn’t even say a word.
We followed him up the spiral staircase off to the side of the main dance area. The second level shared the same music as below, the speakers built into the walls, but the ambiance was a touch different. Black leather horseshoe-shaped booths with brass tables and dimmer lighting. A more laid-back feel, one that screamed private lap dances welcome.
We strode past the booths, then stopped outside a room while Sebastian swung open the steel door.
No stripper pole inside, just a leather couch and table in front of it, which had actually been a surprise.
Sebastian dimmed the harsh lights to a warmer setting as I sat on the black leather sofa, which was up against a red-painted wall.
“The glass enables us to see downstairs, but prevents others from seeing in here,” Sebastian explained when Harrison walked toward the picture window. “Soundproof, too. Speakers can be turned on and off if you want to hear the DJ. I thought it’d be easier to talk here.”
My brother sat on my left and Harrison on the right. I felt safe. Protected between them.
Sebastian remained standing after he shut the door, his towering frame overwhelming the room, which was the size of a jail cell, not that I’d been in one before. “So, what is it that you want to know?” Straightforward and unexpected.
How much truth would we actually be able to get out of this man? How many lies, too? And how would I know the difference?
“I’d really like a partnership with McGregor Enterprises, but I do have some concerns given your presence on the board.” Harrison stood as if he felt the need to be on the same level as Sebastian, and I could hardly blame him.
“I think I speak for Reed as well here,” Sean added. “What’s your interest in our company? And who the hell are you for real?”
Sebastian’s lips crooked into a slight smile. “Let me ask you something.” He stepped closer to Harrison, but he didn’t remove his hands from his pockets.
“What is it, Renaud?” Harrison’s question had my heart skipping even higher.
“What do you need from me to make the deal happen?” Sebastian peered my way, his body stiff. Well, when was it not?
Harrison mimicked his position, his hands diving into his pockets. Spine straight. A commanding presence as well. “Sell your shares. Give up your seat on the board.”
I pressed my back to the leather in surprise, trying to wrap my head around his bold demand. Was this the plan he and Sean had discussed without me? And what the hell . . . why wouldn’t they clue me in on this ahead of time? As far as curveballs go, this was huge.
But no way would Sebastian give in to him, and after what I’d witnessed him capable of with that mugger, he might box Harrison’s head off, too.
“That’s the only way you’ll make a deal?” Sebastian’s dark brows pulled together. “And you think dumping all my stock onto the open market will be wise?”
Shit, he was right. It’d be a crushing blow. But we could repurchase some of the stocks, I supposed.
“It’s only a movie,” he said on a sigh. He looked at me as if seeking my opinion, which didn’t make sense because he did what he wanted and didn’t give a damn. “And this is what you really want?”
I glimpsed Harrison before setting my focus on my brother, and Sean nodded. “Yes,” I managed when I found Sebastian’s eyes again.
His jaw tightened as he remained quiet for excruciatingly long seconds. “You have my word then. I’ll no longer be involved in the company by the time you begin filming. That’s the best offer I can make.”
Shock pushed me upright and onto my feet. Sean stood as well.
“You’re serious? How can I trust you?” Harrison lifted his hands from his pockets.
“I’ve never not followed through on a deal before.” Sebastian offered his palm.
Was this really happening?
I stood next to Harrison, my heart racing in anticipation of what he was going to do, and my eyes widened in surprise when he took Sebastian’s hand.
“It’s a deal,” Harrison said with a curt nod.
Sebastian glanced at me for a brief moment, and there were a million ways I could interpret the blank expression on his face. But my gut feeling said it was sadness. And then, he up and walked out of the room without another word, the door softly closing behind him.
“I’ll, um, be right back.” I fled before they could stop me, catching sight of Sebastian striding away. “Wait,” I cried, my voice barely registering above the loud music popping around us. But somehow, he’d heard, because he stopped.
He looked back, then at the door off to his right. “In here.” He jerked open the door, and I found myself inside a room with the same setup as the last. Only, this time, he locked the door.
I crossed the space in a hurry to get to the glass wall and pressed my palms to the smooth surface.
I got what I wanted. He was going to leave my life before filming began, and hopefully, that wouldn’t be too far into the future. So, yeah, I’d won. But the victory felt too easy. Something was off.
I caught sight of Sean and Harrison descending the winding staircase, probably heading for Trisha and Sebastian’s plus one.
“What do you want?” He was close. His warm breath like a caress on my skin.
“Why are you giving in?” I whispered.
“Because you want this deal.” His voice was steady. Always in control. Why couldn’t I be like that around him? “And you want me gone, yes?”
A deal with Sebastian Renaud always came with a price.
“And what do I owe you for this? What kind of favor or debt will I have to repay?” A touch of defeat gripped my words, and I hated the sound of it. “I can’t vote in favor of the Limerick deal. I won’t do it.” I whirled around to face him.
“That deal will happen with or without your support.” For a moment, I would’ve sworn guilt glided through his tone, but then he rasped, “You’re powerless to stop it.”
I poked at his chest. “You arrogant, son of a—”
I dropped my words at his quick movement. My back hit the glass, and his hands went to my shoulders, caging me in place.
His eyes moved to my mouth as if he were expecting a protest from me. I should demand he release me. I was so mad at him, and yet, I couldn’t tell him to back off.
“You can have your movie deal with Reed, but don’t sleep with him.”
“Excuse me?” I lifted my chin. “Who the hell do you think you—”
This time, it was his lips that stole my words.
They slanted over mine in a hot, almost angry, and crushing kiss. His tongue entered my mouth and took control, and I tried so, so hard not to moan. Not to kiss him back. But the warmth of his touch, the confidence of his kiss, the demand of his mouth for my lips to obey . . . I was done.
His strong hands slipped behind me, cupped my arse, and he lifted me in one swift movement. He guided my legs around his hips, all while keeping me pressed against the window, his lips never losing hold of mine. And that’s when I kissed him back. When I gave him my
absolute everything. More than I even knew I had inside of me.
My fingernails bit into his shoulder blades as I hung on for dear life.
He tasted like spice and vanilla, hints of something exotic as he killed me in the best possible way with his mouth, delivering a seduction of senses with every sweep of his tongue.
I felt . . . free as he kissed me, even though his physical hold of me contradicted the very meaning of the word.
And I nearly choked out a “Don’t stop!” when our mouths parted. But his whispered words at my ear prevented such insanity. “This can never happen again.” And like that, he let go.
The back of my hand raced across my slightly swollen lips as I regained my composure. My chest was too tight. The pressure between my legs unbearable.
The erection in his pants said it all. He was hurting as much as I was.
“Why’d you kiss me?” I repositioned the straps of my dress, hoping when I returned downstairs, no one would be able to see the evidence of my lapse in judgment.
“I’m sorry.” His words sounded almost genuine.
“You don’t seem like a man to apologize.”
“I’m not.” He started to turn, but I grabbed his bicep, and he halted. He was hard as a rock beneath my palm.
“You should let go.” His voice was a cool whisper over my skin, which served to take the edge off the explosive heat raging inside of me.
“You’re confusing.” I lowered my hand. “You refuse to pull back on this push to sell the land in Limerick. You’re agreeing to walk away from McGregor for the sole purpose of helping me secure a deal with Harrison. And yet, you don’t want me romantically, or physically, involved with him.”
“That’s not true.” He faced me straight on, his eyes thinning. “I don’t want you with anyone.”
“And that includes you?”
He leaned in so close that all I’d have to do was press up in my heels to touch his lips with mine. “Especially me.”
Chapter Seven
Sebastian
The Real Deal: A Dublin Nights Novel Page 7
