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Chapter Eighteen

The curiosity threaded with worry and unease in her eyes was nearly Sevastyan’s undoing. Over the rim of his glass, he watched her as he downed half the contents in one swallow.

Sevastyan knew she watched his every move from the corner of her eye. He called on all his patience not to turn her to him and demand answers to the hundreds of questions that had stolen his sleep.

He didn’t fare well now either. He’d only managed a couple of hours of rest which left him less than affable, as Roman had put it. He wanted to get this over with and move on to getting her between them.

The smiles she’d afforded his partners caused a stir of envy he hadn’t expected. They’d started the evening with a plan of bringing her close, making her comfortable, and then pulling the truth from her.

With orgasms, if need be.

So far what he found inherently sweet to the core with a smile that would melt the anger off a raging Russian, and a gentleness about her that had him questioning what the hell they were doing tonight mixed together to create uncertainty, and that pissed him right the fuck off. Nothing ever made him doubt himself. Until her.

Instead, he waited and watched and bided his time.

Lucian and Matteo did the same. He knew his best friends and right-hand men better than any other. They were more polished on the outside than he was, but he could tell they wanted the same—to get to the bottom of this shit.

When the enemy was comfortable then he would strike.

In truth, she arrested his senses. Clad in silk that hugged every supple curve and dip she possessed.

Fuck. If he wasn’t careful, one wrong move would endanger his one mission.

The beautiful sight before him made it hard to consider her anything other than what his eyes told him.

“Take a closer look and tell me what comes to mind.” As he issued the soft command, he watched her chin rise. Defiant, as he suspected. It was what drew him to her. When cornered she turned and fought instead of running. Loyal to family, stubborn, and she possessed the ability to adapt. A true queen. His queen. Thiers.

Cold fear chilled his thoughts. What the hell was he thinking? He shoved the intruding thought away.

“Of Samuel’s scene?”

Her voice pulled him out of his head and he watched her intently. He edged a little closer until he could feel the warmth of her body stroke against his.

“Mm. Surprise me,” he confirmed in a deceptively gentle tone that would have fooled another person into thinking he asked a simple question requiring an equally simple answer.

Lucian stroked a finger along her jawline and tilted her face upward. “Don’t hold back.”

Her eyes narrowed before she dipped her gaze. She turned to Sevastyan and that one piercing look told him she saw through his charade.

As she considered her answer, the tip of her tongue peeked out, and she wet her lips. Strong and in control. Yet beneath his light touch to her lower back, he could feel her body hum with electricity.

Was she scared? Of them or of failing to answer his question? With a muttered curse she gripped the railing. Finally, she tore her gaze from his and let her attention roam the crowd.

“Do you see only the sex, the touching, the claiming, or do you see more? Something of value?” Her answer would tell him what he already suspected, but he needed to hear it all the same after their conversation earlier.

A slight shiver worked through her, and he smiled inwardly. He couldn’t blame her for being nervous, but he admired her tenacity to hide it under a layer of calm he knew was less than truthful. She’d only been on this floor as an employee, and now she walked among the powerful and wealthy as one of them.

One of us.

He hated pushing her but either she was connected to the missing containers or not. If not, she was in way over her head and had no idea what she’d stepped into. Which brought about a more concerning point. If she didn’t know, what the hell was she doing at Haven?

He couldn’t lie—the more time he spent with her the more he wanted to know what made her tick. A delicate red tinge worked its way to her cheeks and a spark of surprise twinkled in her eyes. She cleared her throat, her gaze everywhere but on him. He wanted to change that but pushed his more selfish wishes to the back of his mind. He turned his focus away from the visual distraction and moved it back to where it belonged.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say or what angle you’re looking for.”

Worry settled over her expression.

“The truth. Tell me the first thing that comes to mind. Didn’t you tell me you were good at reading people?”


Tags: Penelope Wylde Dark Mafia Dark