by Amity Cross
We wove our way through the ballroom, people parting to let us through like they sensed we meant business. The foyer was mostly empty, apart from staff, we were the only ones here.
“Do you have your sidearm?” I asked as we began climbing the stairs to the second floor.
“Yes.” Hawkes lifted the edge of his tuxedo jacket and I caught a glimpse of the butt of his gun. “He’s going to try and play you,” he went on. “He’s not exactly…refined.”
Great, it would be exactly like hick cousins coming to visit from the country. He was a biker after all, no matter his aspirations to be more than the petty filth he was.
“If he’s aiming to take a step up into our circles, he’s got a lot of work to do,” Hawkes mused as we climbed the stairs.
“He can burn his own bridges, but not before I’ve made my money’s worth out of him,” I retorted. “If he wants to play, then he’s picked the wrong person to try and fuck over.”
“I’ve alerted security,” Hawkes replied. “If he tries anything, they’re on standby.”
“If he tries something in my home, Hawkes, he’ll be leaving here deader than fucking dead, guests or no guests.” I glared, casting my gaze down the stairs, my thoughts going to Lorelei. “I will end him myself and that will be the ultimate message to the Necromancers, Royal Blood and anyone else who thinks they can try to intimidate me. Nobody fucks with what’s mine.”
Hawkes grimaced and nodded. He knew the score.
Striding down the hall, I drew in a deep breath, schooling my expression into steel. This wasn’t a social event, this was darkness and had to be treated as such. I'd met with a lot of dangerous businessmen in my time, but none as unpredictable as Sykes. In a way, I was slumming it by even contemplating this deal.
I nodded at Hawkes and he opened the door to the study. I stepped into the room and instantly all eyes were on me.
Two bottles of liquor were on the table, one scotch and one whiskey, and they were already well past half empty. My gaze settled on Sykes and I had to force myself not to wrinkle my nose in distaste.
His appearance was just a slimy as his voice was over the phone. He wore a cheap suit with a white shirt, open at the collar, with no tie in sight. His dark hair was slicked back and shiny, his beard unkempt. If this was his idea of dressing up, then he was a few IQ points off the mark.
I eyed his men, who looked pretty much in keeping with their boss. Their jackets bulged on the right hand side, giving away that they had guns holstered. Strike fucking two. Mutton done up as lamb.
“Mr. Sykes,” I said curtly as Hawkes closed the door behind us.
“Vaughn,” he said, not bothering to stand or to shake my hand. “So, we finally meet. Forgive me, but I was expecting someone a little…older.” He waved his hand absently and one of his thugs snickered.
Motherfucking children.
“I was expecting someone a little more…refined.” I wanted to say intelligent, but I wasn’t five years old. I sat in the armchair opposite, regarding him with as much disdain as he deserved. He was crude, offensive and wouldn’t get far in this business with his attitude.
“It’s quite the affair you have downstairs,” he drawled, leaning back on the sofa.
“Thank you.”
A lazy smile appeared on his face. “Who was the woman?”
Lorelei. Fucking hell. “She’s just a woman I was considering fucking for the evening, Mr. Sykes. I’m not even sure of her name.”
It stung, but I didn’t allow it to show in my expression. Lorelei had to remain off limits to my after hours business associations. She wasn’t a gift to be handed out for casual fucking.
I wanted him gone, sooner rather than later, and without incident. “What can I do for you, Mr. Sykes? When we spoke earlier this evening, everything was in order.”
“I thought my invitation must’ve got lost in the mail.” He smirked.
“It wasn’t lost at all. I keep my two lives very separate,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
Sykes kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, a smirk on his fucking ugly face. “I’m well aware of that.”
“You are not a part of this life, Mr. Sykes.” He picked up the bottle of scotch and pressed the end to his lips, downing three mouthfuls before placing it back onto the coffee table. “We will schedule our meeting for next week and until then, I would like you to respect that.”
“I understand completely, Mr. Vaughn.”
So, he was trying to intimidate me by showing up here uninvited? It was his way of showing his power so he could come out of this deal on top. Well, it wasn’t going to fucking work with me and I wasn’t about to let him walk out of this impromptu meeting without his tail between his legs. He was a small-time thug, I was the big leagues.
I rose to my feet, smoothing down my jacket. “Then listen to me Sykes,” I snarled. “You think it’s wise coming into my home to threaten me? I have killed men for far less bravado than you have shown this evening.”
“I know exactly who you are, Vaughn,” he replied, his smile fading. “And so will all those people out there soon enough.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Come into my home again and I will have you forcibly removed in a body bag. If you want this deal and your precious introduction to Lafayette, then you will not threaten me like one of your small-time biker rivals. Those tactics are null and void. Know that I will take everything that is yours and you won’t be able to do a thing about it. Are we clear?”
Sykes stood, his gaze sizing me up, gauging my sincerity.
I nodded toward Hawkes, my cold gaze never leaving Sykes. “Mr. Hawkes, if you would be so kind as to escort our guests out.”
Sykes scowled, thoroughly pissed off. Fucking good. Gesturing to his men, they strode from the room, leaving the stench of expensive liquor in their wake. Those bottles had cost me two thousand pounds. Small change, but change I didn’t want to spend on the likes of him and his hangers-on.
I didn’t turn to acknowledge his leaving, but I felt his gaze burning a target into my back. I had better be willing to follow through on my threat or risk losing everything I had built. If he stepped out of line one more time, it was the end.
The door closed quietly, and I was alone.
I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, my shoulders aching from the tension they held. A lot of things had gotten me going this evening and one was definitely not like the other.
I didn’t leave the study for the rest of the night. I’d made my threats, now I had to lie with them.
If anyone saw me with Lorelei…then she would be unwittingly dragged into a shitstorm of chaos. They would use her to get to me. I’d made it bloody obvious enough that I wanted her, hadn’t I? The party, dancing in close quarters, the way I fucking stared as she walked in…the way I held her in my arms. Any future meetings with Lorelei would be in private, behind a smokescreen where no one but her and I would exist.
That’s if she agreed to see me again.
Sykes was a motherfucking problem in itself, but Lorelei…
She couldn’t have come along at a worse time.
Eight
Lorelei
I didn’t see Vaughn again that night.
To say I was disappointed was an understatement. I felt it in my heart and that worried me more than anything. Getting attached to the wrong kind of man with no encouragement, other than a little kiss on a balcony was bad news.
A knicker soaking, knee weakening, skin tingling, thigh clenching kiss. Bloody hell.
He said that the party was for me. Was it just a ruse to get me swooning at his feet, then he’d take me upstairs, have his way with me then dump me out on my backside the next morning? Seemed like a waste of money if you asked me.
Saturday had become Sunday, then it was suddenly Thursday and…nothing. I’d come to accept that it had all been a ruse and business had interrupted him and he’d lost interest. Maybe the universe had intervened and I’d dodged a bullet. Yeah, that w
as it.
I sat at the desk in the gallery, my elbows on the tabletop, my thumbs circling my temples. The opening for my grand exhibition was tomorrow night and Bex and I were swamped with work. Booking catering, RSVP’ing guests, getting booklets printed, liaising with the media… This was a big deal and totally full on.
“Hey, you okay?”
I glanced up at Bex, who unceremoniously dumped a box onto the desk with a crash. “Fine, I’m just wound up tight.” A grin pulled at her lips and she went to open her mouth, but I held up my hand. “Mind out of the gutter.”
“Aw, you’re no fun,” she said with a pout. “Booklets are here.” She grabbed the Stanley knife from the drawer and began cutting the box.
Opening it up, she handed me a copy from the top of the pile and I began to flip through it. They looked pretty bloody fantastic. All glossy and minimal, and the prints of the paintings were spectacular.
“Still haven’t heard from him?” Bex asked. I wondered how long it would be before she asked again. It seemed like I was her little project, that or she wanted to live vicariously through my nonexistent interlude.
“Of course not,” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “I was a conquest, nothing more. You warned me about him, after all.”
“Maybe you were the one who could’ve tamed him.”
I snorted. “Everyone thinks they’re the one when they get into bed with a bad boy. They never are.” I rolled my eyes. “Least of all me.”
The electronic bell chimed out in the gallery and Bex let out a loud sigh. “Saved by the bell…again. Lucky bitch.”
I glanced up at her and smiled. “I’m going to live for another day.”
She stuck her tongue out and disappeared into the gallery.
Setting down the booklet, I glanced at my phone. Nothing. I cursed under my breath, he didn’t have my number, so why was I checking every five minutes? He didn’t give a crap anymore. I knew I said I’d accepted that it was over before it began, but I swore I’d felt something when I saw him on the stairs. Was Vaughn really that manipulative?
“Lorrie!”
I jerked upright as Bex’s shriek echoed through the entire building. A moment later, she came bounding into the office, a huge bouquet of red roses in some kind of vase in her arms.
My mouth fell open. “What the hell is that?” I asked, my heart speeding up
She set the vase on the edge of the desk. “Flowers, duh.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can see that.”
“They’re for you.”
My expression fell and my skin began to tingle. Nobody had ever sent me flowers before, let alone what looked like four dozen, long stemmed, red roses. Vaughn. I didn’t dare…
“There’s a note,” Bex said, plucking a little white envelope from the flowers.
“Give it here,” I said, trying to pinch it from her, but I was too late. Bex opened the envelope, pulling out the card with a flourish.
“Lorelei, Please accept my apology for disappearing Saturday evening. May I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner?” Bex’s mouth dropped open. “He left his number, too.”
I snatched the card from her and read Vaughn’s note.
“You said nothing happened,” she complained. “Sounds like something did.”
“I thought…” I trailed off. I’d thought he’d dumped me. That was a little much, but it’s what I’d felt.
“You have to call him. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you moping around here all week.”
“I can’t possibly.” I shook my head, still feeling like something was off. “The opening is tomorrow night. There’s too much to do.”
“Guys like that don’t hang around for long, Lorrie,” Bex said. “There’s plenty of gold diggers out there waiting to snatch rich, handsome men off the market. Sebastian Vaughn is at the top of that list.”
“I don’t want to marry him,” I exclaimed.
She grinned, giving me a wink. “Then go have some fun.”
I set the card down on the desk and glanced sidelong at the roses like they’d jump up and bite me. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think about it too long,” Bex admonished.
“I’ll think about it for at least a week.” I pouted, turning back to the computer and the mountain of emails I had to reply to.
I heard Bex’s heels clacking over the concrete floors and disappear out into the gallery. Once she was gone, I picked up Vaughn’s card and read through the note again. Instantly, my thoughts went to the balcony and I could feel the ghost of his hands on my waist, his lips against mine, his tongue…his taste.
All I could think about was him doing wicked things to me…wicked things whilst naked.
Squeezing my thighs together, I flushed and dropped the card.
Who the hell was Sebastian Vaughn and what had he done to me?
Nine
Vaughn
I stared at my open laptop, scowling at the confirmation of delivery email from the florist.
She’d received the flowers, but hadn’t called. Four dozen red roses. I glanced at my phone for the twentieth time since the email appeared in my inbox, the new one I’d picked up soon after our first meeting, and scowled. Fuck, I was turning into a woman.
I swiped my fingers across the track pad on my laptop and the screen changed to the Internet browser with the advertisement for the opening at Space Gallery. It was for an abstract artist, some new guy who was the ‘it’ thing of the moment. A huge score for the little gallery space and I wondered if Lorelei had anything to do with acquiring the show.
The event was scheduled for tomorrow evening… It would be drinks, canapés and flaunting one’s wealth around. I was free, I could attend if I wished. It was an open invitation and many people would be there.
I stared at the advertisement, tempted to drop everything. It was a risk. A pretty fucking huge one. People knew who I was, the media would want to take my photograph, word would get back to ears I didn’t want. Could I keep it low key?
“Vaughn.”
I glanced up at Hawkes, who was standing over me, frowning at the laptop. “What?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He nodded at the computer.
“What are you trying to say, Hawkes?” I snapped.
“You’re fixating too much on her, Sir. If something were to happen…”
I held up my hand. “I know exactly what will happen.” I’d be ruined.
“It’s not a good time with Sykes sniffing around. He’s already seen you with her once.”
That was it, wasn’t it? If Sykes saw that I was going after Lorelei, he’d do something to take her from me and that something would destroy her. This was no longer a game, something else had festered underneath my skin. Love, attraction, matters of the goddamn fucking heart. Lorelei Lansford had bewitched me with a single fucking kiss.
I had no fucking idea what I was doing and for someone who was always in control, the notion scared me a little, but one thing was clear; I was willing to risk my identity to protect her and I hardly fucking knew the woman.
I was no longer capable of taking no for an answer, let alone staying away from her.
I thought about Sykes. I had a good operation going in the UK. I’d forged a name for myself, I made a lot of money and the pile grew on a daily basis, so was going international right now worth the hassle?
I waved a hand at Hawkes. “I know what I’m doing. Lorelei is of no concern to our dealings and I will keep her away from them. I will pursue her if I wish.” I did wish.
“Sir.” I could hear the disapproval in his voice and it annoyed the fuck out of me. I paid him to assist and protect, and in a way he was just doing his job, but if he kept cock blocking me I’d have a few choice words lined up for him.
Hawkes knew what was good for him and crossed the room, out of my line of fire. As the door closed behind him, I turned back to the computer, a lazy grin pulling at my lips.
Maybe it
was about time I began investing in some art.
The darkening London streets flashed past my window as Hawkes drove me to Kensington.
Smoothing down my navy suit and checking my matching tie, I fidgeted as we came ever closer to the gallery and Lorelei. Hawkes was right and I hated the fucker for it. I was fixating on her too much. Falling for the idea of her, rather than what was right in front of me. I’d forgotten all about Sykes and his empty threats and all I could see was her. Me in her, her on me, Lorelei fucking Lansford.
Hawkes pulled the car up out the front of Space Gallery and eyes instantly turned to the car to see who was getting out. I saw a few men with cameras and scowled.
“Are you sure, Vaughn?” He glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
“Stay with the car, Hawkes,” I snapped. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave.”
Opening the door before he could complain yet again, I slid gracefully out of the car and onto the footpath. A few eyes turned my way as I smoothed down my jacket, and there were a few flashes as the cameras went off, but I ignored their inquisitive glances and didn’t even pause for the paparazzi to get their clear shots.
Stepping into the gallery, I was instantly greeted with a glass of champagne. A woman was holding the silver tray, her gaze running up and down my body before smiling. No guesses what she wanted. She was pretty enough, with blonde hair done up into a tight braid, her crisp, white shirt and tailored skirt gave away a lean figure with nice breasts. Maybe I’d consider doing her out the back, quick and hard, but that was another version of myself.
I took the flute of champagne from the tray with a curt nod and moved off into the gallery, disregarding the confused frown from the waitress. Scanning the groups of people gathered around various paintings, I couldn’t see a trace of Lorelei. I hardly recognized anyone for that matter. This was a different crowd than I was used to, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Wandering through the soft light of the gallery, I examined each painting, not quite understanding the lure of abstract art. It was all splashes, texture and blending. If there was any meaning in that, it went straight over the top of my head and off into the distance.
