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Something inside me simmers at the words. The implication. The unspoken challenge. “Fine.”
Rather than lead me deeper into the club, Riley heads through the entrance and onto the street. The club’s peak hours must be later in the evening, for there’s barely a trickle of traffic leading toward the building. About half a block down is a restaurant tucked into a small corner of the street. It’s an intimate venue that smells as though it serves Italian. Hidden away in a smooth booth is Evelyn and one of the members of the club. He might as well be a part of the background, utterly bland.
But her…
My eyes are drawn to her like a goddamn magnet, and I grind my teeth at every detail I note in her appearance. She’s laughing, for one, her head thrown back, her eyes squinted, her throat on display. I bristle at the sound. It’srealrather than the hollow giggles I’ve known her to issue under the guise of amusement. The moment she sees me, her smile falls flat, however, and the proper posture returns in full force.
“Oh.” Riley glances down at his watch. “I’ve let the time get away from me, I’m afraid. I hope to see you tomorrow at the club, Bellamy. Ms. King.” He nods at the table and exits the restaurant without a backward glance, the git.
“You’ve let the time get away from you too, I’m afraid.” My eyes are on the bastard across from her. Some bloke whose name I don’t bother to remember. He stiffens in his seat and then stands.
“It was nice meeting you,” he says to Evelyn, extending his hand across the table. She takes it and smiles in return.
When he leaves, she folds her hands primly in front of her. “That was rude.”
I take the now-vacated seat across from her and bat the bastard’s glass away. “Was it now?”
She raises an eyebrow, and her expression becomes unreadable. “His name is Michael. He’s from Pennsylvania.” She reaches for a glass of water beside her and takes a sip. “We talked about hockey.”
“Is thatallyou talked about?”
She shrugs, tossing a fringe of blond hair over her shoulder. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Bellamy—”
“Are you done?” I reach into my breast pocket for my wallet and drop a bill onto the table. “Let’s go.”
Surprisingly, she follows me out. I call James and wait for him to meet us while she lingers a few paces away. The distance is purposeful. Her eyes keep darting to my hands, and when I approach her, she deliberately curls her own into fists. I reach out, and she tucks her hands behind her. “I-I don’t think…”
“Retainer, Evelyn.” Her exasperated sigh makes the damn gesture worth it when I pry her hand loose and tuck it within mine. She’s shaking. If I didn’t know her better, I’d say she was emotionally distressed—but I do. Evelyn King only gets this animated when she’s just finished organizing something alphabetically or…
When she’s gloating. The moment the car arrives, she nearly races into the back seat, but I force the contact even once we’re seated. Out of sheer spite, I make her wait until we reach the Royal before I let her go. While she grouses on the curb, I approach James, ensuring she’s out of earshot.
“I want you to watch her,” I say. “If she so much as glances out the window, I want to know about it.”
Or if she plans to meet with Adrian Riley and one of his pawns without my knowing.
“Of course, Sir.”
When I rejoin Evelyn in the lobby, I expect some half-hearted argument before she follows me up to the suite, but she’s silent. Once inside, she prances past her shopping bags—still piled in the center of the foyer—and up the stairs.
I’m cautious as I take my time to mount the staircase after her. The door to the guest room is closed, but when I reach my own bedroom, she’s already there, stripping down…
Aware of me watching, she crawls beneath the sheets, allowing me to glimpse bare, naked flesh before she’s covered. The look she shoots me from over the blankets is the definition of smug. “Good night, Mr. Bellamy,” she croons. “I hope you have a nice, long, hard slumber.”
Bloody hell. Judging from how my cock twitches, I’ll honor her little request.
With painful repercussions.
CHAPTER31
evie
Graeme Bellamy is trying to drive me insane. I wake up—in his bed—with every boundary we set utterly demolished.
He’s lying beneath me, while I straddle him, still half asleep and woefully at the mercy of his voice. It’s so husky when he’s just woken up. His heavy-lidded eyes work their magic twofold, and it’s like the bastard has cast some spell that strips away my common sense.
“You’ve had your fun. No more. I want to know what happened last night,” he murmurs.
Oh, that.After leaving the club last night, I decided it would be best to keep the terms of my wager with Dahlia private. Apparently, Graeme is still dwelling on that little display with Michael. One of his hands snakes up my inner thigh to settle over my waist. My breath catches, and I barely hear him add, “Between you two.”
