by Lexi C. Foss
“Absolutely.” That luscious mouth of his went to her neck, eliciting a shiver from her. His touch could easily become her new favorite addiction. Careful, Stas. Just a business deal. “Are you ready to eat, darling?”
Everyone was watching them. More than a few of their gawkers wore surprised expressions, including Dr. Fitzgerald. Her stomach fluttered and heat crawled up her neck. She much preferred being the ignored arm candy to the center of attention.
“Sure.” Maybe not food, but wine was necessary. Alcohol was her go-to vice for difficult situations. Not healthy, but it helped.
“Brilliant.” He 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?” Issac asked when the crowd dissipated. Dr. Fitzgerald led the way. Tom lingered for a moment longer before he finally turned after his father. She was about to follow when Issac tightened his arm around her waist.
“Don’t mention your reaction to the immunizations.” His words were a whisper against her ear, so low she almost missed them. “They made you a bit queasy, but you were otherwise fine.”
She was trying to keep it together, but the stark reminder drove a knife through her gut. Human resources left her a voicemail during her hair appointment today. She passed her security exam and was scheduled to attend orientation in a week. How the hell was she supposed to do that when the company may have tried to kill her? She wanted proof before she made that decision and was hoping to get it from Issac on their limo ride here, but he seduced the thoughts right out of her.
“Are you saying he knows about the poison?” she whispered back as Dr. Fitzgerald stopped to exchange words with a pretty brunette at the table beside theirs. Tom’s shoulders were still rigid, but he managed a grin for the woman.
She frowned. Dr. Fitzgerald would never let anyone hurt her. If his company was in the business of poisoning potential employees, he would know and he would never authorize the behavior. It went against everything he believed as a world-renowned humanitarian.
“I’m implying that anyone could be listening. Do you understand?”
She did, but that wasn’t what she asked. “Does he know or not, Issac?”
“That’s not for me to say. Observe and learn.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips, his gaze tender as he pulled back. “Trust me.”
9
Dangerous Romance
Observe and learn. She could do that.
The demon sat to her left, his right palm resting on her leg. His warm fingers caressed her exposed skin while he engaged Dr. Fitzgerald in a conversation about the stock market. She gathered they shared similar investment strategies. Their easy candor suggested they were friends, something he never mentioned.
Tom sat between his dad and a young blonde named Emily. They were flirting. She was pretty in a conventional way, but paled in comparison to Lizzie. The woman was the daughter of a middle-aged couple at their table. Issac introduced them as Sally and Frank before dinner started. Their son Brad rounded out the table of eight. He was sitting to her right. The teenager didn’t say much, just pushed his food about the plate with his fork. She couldn’t blame him. Dinner sucked.
“So, how is Aidan?” Dr. Fitzgerald asked as he set his napkin down on the table. He somehow cleared his plate while hers was still full. “I was surprised to see him at dinner the other night.”
As in graduation night or another dinner?
“Yes, he considered stopping by to say hello, but didn’t want to make the table uncomfortable,” Issac replied.
That provoked a smile from the doctor. “Something you had no problem doing.”
Yes, definitely talking about graduation dinner.
“Ah, well, I had a reason to stop by.” His hand squeezed her thigh as he tilted his head towards her. “My beautiful woman.”
“Cheesy line,” She replied, eliciting a raised eyebrow. Remembering how he handled her pickup line accusation earlier, she added, “No demonstrations.” Not in front of her mentor and close friend. It was hard enough maintaining her casual charade when her brain wouldn’t shut up about the CRF possibly trying to kill her. Issac kissing her would derail her focus.
Those clever fingers slipped beneath the silk to find her inner thigh. She fought not to squirm or grab his wrist. His actions were hidden by the table. Fidgeting would only create unwanted attention.
“I’ll extend your regards to Aidan. He’s in town for another week or so.” His palm slid higher, drawing his fingers into dangerous territory. Goosebumps scattered down her leg as he began to sketch a foreign pattern against her flesh. Every upward swipe brought him closer to her lacy underwear. It took all her effort not to flinch with each stroke.
He was trying to distract her. Devious man. His questing fingers were creating a sensation in her lower abdomen that was becoming difficult to ignore. Her nipples stiffened against the silk of her dress. A decadent sensation. Knowing the fabric did nothing to hide her reaction only heightened her excitement. Heat flushed her neck and sizzled down her spine. She squeezed her legs together, realizing too late that the move trapped his hand.
Shit. This was not acceptable dining behavior. I shouldn’t be enjoying this …
Dr. Fitzgerald was staring 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 resulting grin was sin personified as his blue gaze dropped to her breasts. If she could move her legs, she would kick him. Not appropriate.
“I asked if you heard from human resources yet on your start date.”
Every heated pore froze in an instant as his words slammed into her belly with the force of a bullet. Issac moved his hand down to her knee and squeezed once in reassurance. That small touch meant the world to her. It said, I’m here. And she believed him. An indication of trust that surprised her.
“Yeah, I start next Monday. I have orientation.”
“Fantastic. The clearance process can take so long, 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. It was some celebrity she didn’t recognize, but the audience was excited. His speech was decent, highlighting various humanitarian efforts throughout the world. She gathered by the end that this gala was being thrown to raise 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 noted 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 Dr. 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 was able to calm the audience with just that gesture.
“Good evening. I can’t even begin to say how honored I am to be here this evening, 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.
The general respect and adoration from the audience was palpable as he continued speaking. This was the mentor she adored. He was magnanimous and humble, and not a man who would authorize poisoning his employees.
There had to be another explanation. Maybe someone else poisoned her when she was on the way home Tuesday. She
was so drowsy that afternoon it was a miracle she even made it back to Lizzie’s condo. It was possible someone slipped her something without her realizing it. That made more sense than her employer poisoning her. The CRF wasn’t related to the supernatural world. They had no reason to give her the Nizari serum because they didn’t know fledglings existed. Unless …
I suspect the CRF used it 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 could be wrong. Six years of knowing the enigmatic man onstage trumped a fake two-week relationship with a demon. She didn’t even know what an Ichorian was, for crying out loud. Maybe he 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. He didn’t need to bribe a woman for a date. There was more to it. But what?
The crowd erupted into a standing ovation, bringing a slight flush to Dr. Fitzgerald’s cheeks. He never could take praise very well, always deferring to others he felt deserved it more.
Issac shook his hand once he made it back to the table. “Aidan and Osiris would approve.”
“Yeah? Maybe you’ll try for it next year,” Dr. Fitzgerald replied, smirking.
“Not bloody likely.”
She studied them both, perplexed by the easy exchange. There was a history there, a fond one. Why would Issac suspect the CRF tried to kill her? Unless he knew something about the organization that she didn’t.
The older woman was at the podium again making parting comments about the art auction and recommending everyone keep drinking wine. Stas was on board with the last part, but excused herself for the restroom first.
She used a damp cloth to dab at her face, frustrated by the two splotches of pink decorating her cheeks. Alcohol and confusion were not an attractive mixture.
When she exited the bathroom, she found Tom waiting for her. He was leaning against the wall, one foot crossed over the other and his hands in his pockets. Lizzie would have fallen all over herself if she saw him. His blond hair was messy from him running his fingers through it and his chocolate eyes were seething as she approached him.
“The Arcadia, ten o’clock tomorrow night. Go there, then tell me if he’s still worth it.” He 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 angriest glares 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. Then call me when you’re ready to talk about it.”
His long strides ate up the hallway too fast, leaving her trailing behind him.
“Tom, hold …” She trailed off on instinct, her words almost forming a command that would have forced him to stop. She flinched. The dark part of her yearned to take over and demand he listen. She hated that devilish voice, the one that whispered “do it.” It terrified her.
He went down the stairs that led to the lobby instead of back into the ballroom. She stared after him.
“Okay …” What the hell was she supposed to do with that?
Dr. Fitzgerald walked out of the ballroom with a frown. “Did Tom just leave?” he asked when he spotted her standing in the hallway.
“I think so.”
He sighed and cast her an apologetic smile as he approached. “I hope he wasn’t too hard on you. Issac is not his favorite person.”
“I’ve gathered that.”
“He’ll come around.” He put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it in a fatherly way. “I meant to check in this week and ask how you’re feeling.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, 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 his hand was still on her. He would feel the tension. She commanded herself to remain calm and took a steadying breath. “Yeah, it was the shots. They upset my stomach.”
His brow pulled downwards. “Shots?”
“From the medical exam.”
“You were given injections during your exam?” Did he look uneasy, or was that her imagination?
“Uh, yeah. Dr. 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 CRF really did try to poison her, he didn’t know about it.
“Dr. Patel 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 birthmark flared. She fought the urge to scratch it while considering. Part of her yearned to tell Dr. Fitzgerald 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 would never believe her anyway, and she wasn’t ready to open up about her persuasive gift.
“I was a little out of it after the exam, but I was more confused than anything.”
“Did you feel sick afterwards, perhaps at home?”
“Yeah, I felt pretty nauseated when I got home, but I think it was the stress of it all.” Lying to him felt wrong. It pulled at the pit of her stomach, making her queasy. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “So you think she followed the wrong protocol on purpose?” Which would imply Dr. Patel knew Stas was a fledgling.
If the doctor knew about me, who else knows? Ice drizzled down her spine. Maybe her demon wasn’t the only one who saw her compel that reporter after Owen’s memorial. He told her to be careful. You never know who might be watching. What if the warning was too late?
“I’m not sure, but I promise to personally look into it.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, Stas. I’m truly sorry this happened.”
“It’s not your fault.”“Well, not directly anyway, but I still take ownership for it.” He started back towards the ballroom. “I really hope we won’t lose you over this. You’re going to be very successful at the CRF.”
“I’m very thankful for the opportunity.” Knowing the CRF didn’t try to kill her lifted a weight off her shoulders, but her stomach was tied in knots. Someone poisoned her, which implied there was a person out there who suspected she was a fledgling.
“You earned it.” His smile crinkled his eyes again, making him look more like Tom’s older brother rather than his father. Whatever the man was doing to stay young was working. “I’ll let you get back to your date, even if I think you can do better.” What a dad-like thing to say.
“Thanks, and congratulations on your award. It’s well deserved.”
His cheeks flushed. “Thank you, Stas.”
Her head was still spinning when she arrived back at the empty table. Issac was standing beside a chair talking to three supermodels. The tightness in her stomach grew into a knot. This was the man she read about on the Internet. The perpetual playboy. He was picking out his next date despite still being on one with her. Not that this was real. It was a business arrangement. One where he fondled and kissed her a lot. Maybe he did that with all his business partners.
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I promised to give Astasiya a tour of the hotel.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes as all three women pouted. What did they think he was goin
g to do, invite them along?
He caught her hand and led them away from the table.
“Are you sure you don’t want to finish your interview? I don’t mind waiting.” She could peruse some art. Not that she would understand any of it or afford it, but it would serve as a distraction while he flirted.
“My interview?”
“You know, for your next conquest or date or whatever you call them.”
He paused to study her, his luscious mouth curling upwards. “Hmm, yes, green is not your color, darling.”
She sputtered. What? “Did you just accuse me of being jealous?”
They were walking again. “No accusation necessary.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m not.” What was there to be jealous of? This was his life. She knew that.
“Don’t fret, darling. I’m here with you, not them.”
“Right, as part of a business arrangement.” She reminded, ignoring the fretting part. “And where are we going?” They were heading towards the lobby exit.
“To complete our business arrangement in the limo.”
“We’re leaving? I thought we were going on a tour.” Not that she particularly cared, but the hotel was gorgeous and a historic site.
He stopped again, this time raising an eyebrow. “I only said that to maintain my image, but if you want to get a hotel room, I would be happy to oblige.”
She gaped at him. “Are you propositioning me?”
“You were the one expressing regrets over our missed tour. Who propositioned whom in that scenario?”
“You’re impossible, you know that, right?”
His grin was too damn alluring. “We can conclude our agreement in bed or in the limo. Which do you prefer, Astasiya?”
With a growl and a muttered curse, she pulled him towards the doors. Tempting demon. Her common sense wouldn’t stand a chance in bed with him and she needed to focus. There were too many unanswered questions between them.
Benjamin was waiting by the limo outside with the door open. She murmured a “hello” and climbed inside. Issac sat right beside her despite the spacious backseat and draped his arm over her shoulders. At least he wasn’t caressing her bare thigh again. His burning touch made it difficult to think.
