Page 25

When the train pulled in to Rundin Street Station ten minutes later, I pushed my way impatiently through the crowd so I’d be nice and early getting to the Darkfern building. As I emerged onto the street, busy with smartly dressed humans and demiurgus on their lunch breaks, I took a deep breath of fresh air to try and relax.

I’d taken an early lunch and done a spin class before meeting var Rorik to try and burn off some of the tension that had plagued me all weekend. I wasn’t sure why I’d been so edgy. Maybe it had been running into him unexpectedly at the gym—that had thrown me. Seeing him in sweats and a T-shirt that had clung to his chest and arms like a second skin had definitely thrown me.

But I’d left the gym basking in the knowledge that I’d won our unspoken little competition. And in the fact that he’d clearly made up his weekend plans to not seem like such a sore loser.

Except… what if he hadn’t been? I doubted he spent many weekends alone, without someone else in his bed, or the bed of whatever five-star Paris hotel he’d whisked them off to for a “little getaway”.

For all I knew, he had a partner—one he referred to as his “lady friend” like a complete tool. Maybe he was in a long-term, committed relationship. I didn’t know anything about the guy. And I didn’t care.

I didn’t.

So what if I’d gone back to the gym on Sunday morning and kept an eye out for his tall, imposing frame? I’d just wanted to see if he’d been lying about his plans. I wasn’t sure if he’d be so determined to save face that he’d skip it, or if nothing could stop him from missing the gym and he would’ve been willing to admit to the lie just to get a workout in.

I hadn’t seen him. Granted, Sunday was the day I allowed myself to sleep in and I’d been there a little later than the day before, so maybe I’d just missed him. I’d almost skipped my pilates class this morning just to see if he was on the main gym floor, but forced myself not to. I wasn’t going to change my routine just to catch a glimpse of him. That was weird. And I wasn’t interested in seeing him anyway.

I wasn’t.

He was an arrogant ass with a wildly overinflated ego.

And a ridiculously sculpted body.

And perfect hair. And an infuriatingly handsome face. And a deep, smooth voice. And he always smelled annoyingly good, even when he was dripping with sweat on the treadmill beside me.

If I’d met him somewhere like a bar, and we’d partaken in very minimal small talk, I could’ve possibly, maybe seen myself taking him home for the night. Just to scratch an itch. To indulge myself. To find out what he was like in bed.

But he was a client, and Corva had very strict rules about fraternising with clients. Plus, I’d spoken to him enough to know he would drive me crazy. He was so far up his own ass that I was surprised he hadn’t just winked out of existence. He was ridiculously competitive—it hadn’t escaped me that every time I increased the speed on my treadmill on Saturday, he’d bumped his own up just slightly higher. I’d barely stopped myself from doing the same thing, but I knew my limits, and I’d wanted to win.

Okay, so maybe I was slightly competitive too. In some circumstances, that might actually be… fun. Like seeing who could hold off from coming the longest while having sex.

No, Anita! I scolded myself as the Darkfern building came into view up ahead. Stop it. Stop! Stop thinking about his stupidly round butt and thick thighs and muscled arms. The rest of var Rorik comes with those things—the inflated ego, the pretentious wardrobe, the arrogant attitude. If you’re horny, just find some other jacked gym bro to scratch the itch.

I reminded myself yet again that even if I could look past those things, it still didn’t matter. He was a client.

A really hot, irritating client.

End of story.

I checked my watch as I reached the Darkfern, smiling in satisfaction to see that I was fifteen minutes early. Now I’d get to rub it in his face again.

But when I stepped through the glass doors, my nostrils flared in outrage as I saw Nuni var Rorik casually leaning an elbow on the front desk and chuckling with the receptionist.

He looked over at the sound of the door closing behind me, and a smirk tilted his wide mouth with those pale blue smile lines reaching all the way to his ears. Hand clenching around the strap of my backpack, I forced myself to keep walking forward.

“Anita,” he drawled loudly as I got closer, straightening up from the desk. “Glad you could make it.”

What? I’d arranged it! Of course I was going to fucking make it. It was my job.

I couldn’t bring myself to apologise for keeping him waiting—I could just imagine the smug look on his face if I did. And besides, I wasn’t late. I was still early.

“The subway was delayed,” I said instead, smiling politely through clenched teeth.

“No worries.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve been here ten minutes already, but as you know, I like to be accommodating.”

Keeping the tight smile on my face, I turned to the receptionist. “Anita Chaudhary, here to view—”

“The Midnight Suite, yes. Mr var Rorik already told me.” She smiled sweetly up at var Rorik, who was still looking infuriatingly smug as he picked invisible lint off his suit sleeve. “Our events manager, Dere, is already waiting for you.”

“Great. Wonderful. Thank you.” I took a step away, then stopped. “Oh, we need our passes.”