“If I’m gonna schmooze a bunch of rich stiffs, they may as well be the richest ones.” He winked at Bryce. “The club’s always looking for new members.”
Yeah right. The club had to refuse several memberships every month for lack of space and there was no way my proud stoic would ever shift into a brown-noser.
Bryce chuckled. “Why not? Networking’s why half these charitable souls showed up in the first place. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble charming them with your philosophical—”
“Please, if anyone’s going to charm a Rolex off one of these a-holes, it won’t be bookworm here. He might put them to sleepbetter than their fancy prescriptions, though,” Dagger mused, swiping a flute of France’s finest wine from a waiter’s tray. “I, on the other hand, plan to earn their money the honest way.” A roguish smile split his face, and he knocked back half the glass in one gulp. “Gambling!”
I crooked my finger at him, and he obeyed, circling behind me to dip his cheek next to mine over my shoulder. I ran my fingers along his rugged jaw. “Promise me you won’t go overboard. Leave the millionaires with the shirts on their backs, at least.”
He chuckled, his chest rumbling against my back as a hand slid down my curves to give my ass a firm pat. “Fine. For you, good girl, they can keep their shirts.” His hand rested on my hip and I leaned back against him, twisting my head further to capture his mouth for one good, hard kiss. Then his lips were at my ear. “Fuck, you drive me mad.”
“Good.” I winked, but meant it sincerely. He drove me mad too.
With a peck on my cheek, he strode off toward the curved staircase leading to the ground floor, and I enjoyed the show of watching him leave. His backside looked carved from granite in his tailored pants. The tattoos peeking from the collar and pressed sleeves of his all-black tuxedo ensemble gave him a wilder look than the rest of the partygoers. Heads turned and the crowd parted easily around him, and I ate it all up, knowing that I had the answers to the questions they were all wondering about him. And for reasons I still hadn’t fully wrapped my head around yet, my bad boy seemed to only want me.
Seb came to stand beside me with both palms on the chunky balustrade, shaking his head after Dagger and looking dashing in navy. “Someone ought to keep tabs on him and play defense. There are two senators right there.” He pointed down among the clinking crystal and trays of passing caviar hors de oeuvres. “And the governor. He steps on the wrong toes and he could get fired.”
“Agreed. But I want food.” I patted my stomach. I’d been saving my appetite all day for this. “And I want to find Ceci. So… which one of you are volunteering for hanging with Dagger?” I looked between the guys.
Hunter held up a pledging hand. “I swore never to babysit his ass again years ago.”
Seb smirked. “I’ll go. I might even get a good story out of it.” He mimed ticker tape running along a screen. “Senator calls local cop a hairy bastard after losing his yacht in a game of Texas Hold ‘Em.”
“Nice.” Bryce winked at Seb. “That’s the Midas spirit. Go find some stories.”
“But be discreet, kid, or he’ll kick your ass,” Hunter called after Seb’s retreating back, making heads turn.
Bryce chuckled, pulling me closer under all that scrutiny. “This is going to be an interesting night.” He offered up his arm. “Ready to enter the lion’s den?”
“As long as I’m with one of you.” I threaded my arm through his.
The soothing lather of viola, cello and harp bubbled melodies throughout as we took the broad staircase—lined in red carpet, of course—that swept its way down to the bustling open-plan function areas beneath.
The hotel’s enormous ground floor had been roughly divided into four sections. There was the banquet and bar area, where you could choose at leisure from the buffet or be served at one of the countless dozens of elegantly decorated dining tables. Then you had the dance floor, which looked like it had room for at least three hundred all at once; the twenty casino tables where dice, cards, and wheels were already reeling in heaps of cash for charity; as well as a generous corner beside the dance floor, dedicated to the musicians’ stage. I sipped more fizz—the bubbles popping pleasantly on my tongue—and relished the elbow room Bryce’s platoon of eight tuxedo-clad, grizzly bodyguards provided. Bryce had told me he’d chosen only grizzlies for two reasons. Their sheer bulk, for blocking would-be evildoers or drunken well-wishers. And their nostril power. To sniff out any invisible gatecrashers. Dagger had torn andkept a page from Conrad’s disgusting journal and made sure they all had the scent, regardless of what they could see.
I hoped bear noses knew best. The thought of Conrad’s monstrous face being just inches from mine while I stood there totally unaware, made me shudder and hover a palm over the scar on my neck, worrying that several layers of super expensive make up weren’t enough concealment.
Seb interjected into my thoughts from across the room, where he was handing Dagger a drink at a craps table.
Don’t worry. You always look beautiful. Try and enjoy the night and push that monster from your mind. None of us are going to let anyone hurt you ever again, and this place is swarming with law enforcement. You’re safe. Remember your promise to yourself and live a little.
I found his eyes through the throng. You’re so sweet. I know. I’ll relax soon enough, I’m sure.
Good. So… which one of us looks best in a tux then?
Hmm. Good question. I tell you what, I’ll give you a clue.
Shoot.
He’s… not human.
I stuck a quick tongue out at him as I stepped off the final stair, using Hunter and Bryce’s arms for support in my high heels, not wanting to make a grand entrance by tripping onto my face.
When we reached the ground floor, Bryce directed us and the security team to Dagger and Seb. “We’ll just check on them quickly first,” Bryce said, leaning in so I could hear him over the cheers from winners at the gambling tables.
Dagger acknowledged us with a tip of his chin in my direction. “Thanks for bringing my good luck charm. Now we can play.” He rattled a pair of dice in a fist. “I’ve got two hundred bucks burning a hole in my pocket.”
Bryce signaled to a slim man in a crimson tux who was hovering beyond our bodyguard circle, greeting the posher guestsapproaching the tables with impressive stacks of chips. Upon seeing Bryce, he snapped to attention.
