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I went to the vanity and picked up a lipstick. He leaned against the bedpost, the wine bottle in his hand, watching with hooded eyes as I repaired my makeup.
“At least give me this much,” he said. “Keep your mind open. Nose around a little. You know damn well that if Victorine could take me and my brothers out without it pointing back to her, she’d do it in a heartbeat. Zaq”—his voice cracked—“he may not have much longer.”
I briefly closed my eyes. I had to admit that photo had left me shaken. If it wasn’t photoshopped, something was seriously wrong. And I couldn’t help picturing Rafe chained in that cell instead of Zaquiel.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
Rafe’s eyes blazed. “Thank you.” He rattled off a phone number. “You can contact me through that number—anytime. Got it?”
I repeated the number back to him. “I’ll do what I can, okay? But don’t count on me finding anything, because I don’t think there’s anything to find.”
“All I want is the truth. Anything you find, please pass it along—even something small. I’ll stay in Canada a couple more days in case you need me. For anything,” he added.
I set down the lipstick. “I won’t need you.”
“No.” His mouth curled in another of those mocking smiles I was coming to hate. “I don’t suppose you will.” He took another long drink. “You’ll be sorry if you mate with that prick. You know that, don’t you?”
I settled my mask over my eyes without replying.
“Tell me something. Are you mating with him to escape from Victorine? Because if so, you have your head up your ass. Mate with Étan, and you’ll have two watchdogs, not just one. He’s your mother’s man.”
I shook my head and turned toward the door.
“Thanks for the wine—and the kiss.” He lifted the wine bottle to me in a mocking salute. “You can pretend all you want, Princess. But you want me as much as I want you. You’re going to spend the rest of your life wondering what it would’ve been like.”
I swung to face him. “My loyalty is to the Tremblay Syndicate. Yours is to your father’s. Which of us would have to give?”
His jaw set. “We could figure it out. If you wanted it enough.”
“Goodbye, Rafe.”
I felt his gaze on me the whole way across the living room. I stopped, and without turning, said, “Drink another blood-wine if you want. I have the security feed set to look like no one is in here. But don’t be here when I come back.”
His only response was a grunt.
I let myself out the suite door. Security might wonder why the cams hadn’t picked me up walking from the bathroom to the door, but a small glitch like that wouldn’t be enough for them to send someone to investigate, especially when they could see me on the cams now.
It wasn’t until I’d hit the pad to engage the lock that I realized Jean-Michel was coming up the winding stairs.
Damn, damn, damn.
I stared at him as he ascended the last few steps, his thin, handsome face impassive.
Had he heard me and Rafe? We’d kept our voices low, but he seemed to have a sixth sense about these things.
I squared my shoulders and waited for him to ask who was in my suite.
He tipped his head at the stairs. “Victorine will be wondering where you are.”
“Yes.”
He knew. He knew there was a man in my suite.
Something in his very stillness gave him away, but for his own reasons, he’d decided to pretend he didn’t.
I drew a calming breath and, hoping this wouldn’t come back to bite me, started down the spiral staircase. But when I reached the second floor, my feet turned toward the conservatory.
“Zoe?” Jean-Michel asked.
