AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Maybe she wants to rub what I said in my face, but instead, her cheeks turn red. She lowers her phone, facing me. “Really? You think so? This isn’t too much?”
“You look incredible.” I walk toward her, heart racing. God damn, what am I doing right now? But I don’t stop. I keep going, closer and closer. She backs up against the windows, breathing fast, staring into my eyes. “Absolutely perfect. I mean it, Fiona.”
“You don’t think I’m showing off?” A quirk of her lips.
“You areabsolutelyshowing off, and I can’t get enough.” My eyes rake down her body again. “I’m going to have the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm tonight.”
She chews her lip and puts a hand on my chest. “I’m still pissed at you. I didn’t like that comment you made at the climbing gym.”
“I know you didn’t. I wasn’t trying to be a dick.”
“You don’t get to control what I wear. You don’t get to judge it, either.”
“Fiona, you can wear a loincloth and still look fucking amazing. There’s no judgment. Only appreciation.”
She smiles. Just a little bit. “God, you’re an asshole. You’d love it if I wore just a loincloth, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Come on. We should go before you do something stupid.”
“Like what?”
“Try to break the no-sex clause.” She slips past me, heading to the door.
I stare at her ass. “I’m tempted.”
“Go ahead and try. You definitely could use a little check onyourego.”
I laugh, unable to help myself. The girl is a terror. A monster.
And I love it.
Chapter17
Gareth
The Oak Club is the most exclusive invitation-only club on the planet. More exclusive than Bohemian Grove. More exclusive than the nuclear bunkers under the White House. It sits at the end of a long, private driveway, hidden behind high concrete walls lined with crushed glass and dotted by security cameras. Men in dark suits wander the scrubby grounds between the public world and the private oasis beyond. The scrubland gives way to a gorgeous ocean of green grass, shrubs, flowers, and trees, with the club itself in the center of all that gorgeously manicured plant life.
The building is a massive marble beauty, like a temple to an ancient god. Huge ornate doors sit at the front surrounded by columns at least a story tall. Luxury vehicles are parked in a small lot off to the side, and a valet meets us as soon as I pull around front.
“I haven’t been here in a while,” I murmur to Fiona as she takes my arm. We head up the steps and in through the main front door. Security knows me already, and I’m allowed a guest each time I visit. We pass the armed guards and step into an enormous entry hall, and Fiona sucks in a sharp, surprised breath.
Marble floors. Marble statues. Chairs, couches, fireplaces crackling with flames, a small jazz trio playing soft standards. A front desk where absurdly professional staff helps guests.
And dominating the space is the tree.
“How?” she asks, shaking her head like she’s coming up from a dream.
The oak grows in the center of the building. The roots cut down, deep into the earth. The top brushes against the roof, seeking freedom. It shouldn’t exist in here—it can’t actually get any sunlight—but somehow, it grows, and thrives, and even drops its leaves in the winter.
“Magic,” I say, putting my hand on the small of her back. She shivers, head turning to look at me, lips parting.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.
“This place is as exclusive as it gets,” I say, steering her toward the dining hall where we’re having dinner. “I’m a junior member still, but if I can land the Crowley deal—” My fingers curl, digging into her skin.
“There’s more?” she asks, bewildered.
