Luck’s in my favor for once, but as I travel two floors down, my knees wobble. They threaten to give out when the elevator doors slide open, revealing the entryway to the House of Leo. I force my feet forward and approach those intimidating double doors.
The zodiac symbol for Leo greets me, the design etched in gold detail as the divide of doors slices it down the middle. The lion fits Sebastian like the lace on my skin; beautiful in simplicity but lethal with sensual power. I imagine him standing in front of an easel, wearing nothing but low-slung jeans and paint spatter, creating his magic with the fire and passion I’ve come to associate with him.
My fingers inch toward the doorbell, but fear grips my throat, and I falter. This is a bad idea. What was I thinking in coming here, dressed like this? What if he sends me away, his mouth forming that infamous scowl of his? He’ll see right through my trick and mock me for my attempt to take control of the situation.
He’ll say it doesn’t count.
I probably won’t get past the threshold.
My feet are already in retreat-mode, literally shaking in my heels, and that’s when a stubborn voice shouts through my mind with a much-needed reminder that I’m not the meek, innocent girl I was when I first arrived on the island. The last two months have changed me, the cruelty of the Brotherhood dragging me, kicking and screaming, from the young girl I was into the woman I am now.
A woman that, in this moment, knows exactly what she wants.
I want the lion’s surrender, and it won’t happen if I keep playing defense. It’s time to take the offense and seize the power the men in this tower stole from me.
Bypassing the doorbell, I try the handle and push the door open before I change my mind, because there’s no better way to go on the offensive than catching someone off guard.
I want to catch Sebastian Stone so off-guard that he falls on his egotistical ass.
My heartbeat drums in my chest as the empty foyer stands before me. Not wanting to announce my presence, I slip off my heels before stepping further into his domain, footsteps careful and quiet as the uncharacteristic act of breaking in roars in my ears.
And maybe that’s why I don’t hear it until it’s too late. The clink of ice cubes against glass, the patter of leather soles on the floor, the scrape of chairs.
And the familiar authoritative tone of the chancellor.
All of it registers just seconds after I lay eyes on the group of men conversing in Sebastian’s main living space. He’s front and center, amusement quirking his lips as he pins me to the spot with his hypnotic stare. That same voice that sent me in here, empowered with blind bravado, now screams at me to flee before his guests turn around and find me on the verge of the room, frozen into a pillar.
Like the foolish woman in the Bible who ignored the warning and suffered the consequences.
Panic takes hold, and I break free, about to turn back the way I came, when Liam cranes his neck and spots me. “What are you doing here?” There’s no question of the shock in his expression, followed by the slow descent of angry suspicion that tightens his mouth. The other man also looks over his shoulder, a spectator to the drama unfolding, and I recognize him by his blond ponytail.
Vance. The doctor. The man I’ll spend the next month with before the lion ensnares me.
Sebastian grins as he takes me in from my bare feet to the overcoat hiding my lingerie-clad body. “I know why she’s here.”
“I’m s-sorry,” I stutter, feet stumbling back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back another time.” I turn to flee, but Sebastian’s words kill any chance I have of getting out of here unscathed.
“I have eyes, princess. I see you, and I sure as hell know you see me. Deal’s a deal.”
I whirl, sudden anger taking the lead. “There was no deal.”
He cocks his head. “Wasn’t there?”
“There was only you demanding and me not answering.”
He shakes his head. “I recall you saying something along the lines of…” He snaps his fingers. “That’s right. You said you wanted to taste me.”
Liam stands, his fisted hands disappearing into the pockets of his slacks as he looks between Sebastian and me. “What the hell is going on? What’s he talking about, Novalee?”
“That’s none of your business,” Sebastian answers before I can get a word off my tongue. “You can either stick around for the show, or cut your losses and leave.” He gestures toward the door behind me. “But if you do, you can forget talks of negotiation.”
“Forget it,” I tell Sebastian, seething. “I won’t play your games.”