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He huffs a sexy sort of chuckle that makes my insides quiver.
“I’m Belle.” I offer my hand. Calluses glide over smooth skin and for every inch of real estate he claims under his warm touch the hotter my insides turn.
What is this guy? A walking sex factory? He’s got the looks, the voice, and the strong grip made for a woman’s body.
Strong fingers wrap around my hand and he gives a light squeeze. He’s holding back on his grip but the way his eyes devour my mouth and cleavage is a whole other story.
He drops my hand and steps back for me to enter. The room is painted in a black—shocker—with gold accentedeverything.From the high-hanging chandelier to the gold light fixtures on the walls. Even the elegant floral design etched into the walls. If it’s not black, it’s gold. Even the large desk taking up a large portion of the back half of the office matches the decor.
My gaze zeroes in the sexy cowboy and I nearly fall back from the intensity in the dark pools when our eyes connect. I lick my suddenly dry lips. My dress suddenly feels like way too much clothing and I find myself wondering if his lips are as kissable as they look.
Some days I wish I was the good girl. Meek and mousy. But nope. Not me. I’m full steam ahead and doubting myself is rarely the norm.
“This way.”
Today is one of those times I wish I could stop myself from being so eager to get into trouble. I guess it doesn’t matter. I don’t have time to stop and ask questions as I follow.
Three
Belle
He holds the door open for me and I follow him into a room filled with other women. Tall, short, young, and some enter cougar territory in comparison to the man who just answered the door.
Well, at least I won’t be dying alone if this cowboy turns out to be some psycho killer. That comforting thought leads to another one and my heart sinks. I knew it was too good to be true. The newspaper article, I mean. But damn. I had my hopes there for a second that whatever role I was coming for would be of the sexy variety type. But seeing all these girls here means I’ll have to share. Double damn.
I hold a hand up and give a small wave of greeting to everyone. We’ll probably be scrubbing toilets together by the end of the day. Or passing out drinks on the main floor. Who knows. “Hi,” I try, getting snarky lip curls from some and eye rolls from others for my efforts.
My brows arch sharply and I take a calming breath.
Okay, then.
Their shitty attitudes aren’t real shockers. I get it’s competitive in the real world, the one my brother is hellbent on keeping me from. The women here are only looking out for their own interests. Until they find out I’m the princess of the Constantine empire. Then attitudes seem to change and fast.
The men of Genesis have bled and killed in order to build a dangerous reputation. One I’ve tried to distance myself from, but really, it’s impossible when you share the same eyes and last name as the most powerful underlord of Chicago.
Underlords, I should say. My brother and his two best friends are responsible for half the reason I’m undercover trying to find a kernel of happiness.
Club Genesis is a place unlike Club Sin. Here you are free to explore and be yourself. Sapphire and Polaris talk about Club Sin with me now and again. The brochures are lovely and all the ads I’ve seen on TV make me want to join. Only problem is, I’ve never done a random hook-up in my life.
I hold the newspaper a bit tighter in my hand for reassurance.
My brother’s club, Club Genesis, is like a country of its own. The deadly go there looking to make deals, seek revenge and take out hits. No joke. It’s why I try to keep my link to the establishment a secret. And also why my brother and his friends are so protective.
Several sets of eyes track my movement as I come to stand among them. I keep my attention on the man and the clipboard he lifts from the desk.
If I were to flash my black credit card and last name I’d get something far different than these cold bitches’ sneers. Sad really. Everything always has to be about money and power.
Harlon always thinks I’m too damn nice and one day it will cost me. Maybe. But being human isn’t something I can simply switch off. At least I’m not here to make friends.
“Name,” the guy with striking eyes and muscles comes to stand in front of me, bringing the scent of his cologne with him. I take a hit and hold it in.
Yep. Still intoxicating.
Ten sets of eyes narrow my way, but I don’t give them any more of my energy. “Short memory huh? It’s Belle.”
His spellbinding eyes lock on mine. “You have a last name, Belle?”
“Oh, yes, um, Sinclair.” His eyes are glued to a piece of paper he has clipped to the board. He scribbles down my name next to a number I can’t distinguish.
