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Does that mean...
Blaise is working for the other side!
Of course something had to be up with him! But why...why did it have to be this? I run out into the hallway searching for my purse and I pick up my phone, while my emotions remain in a turmoil.
“Ya?” Dimitra answers casually and with the phone fisted in my hand I hiss,
“You won’t believe this. But I just had sex with an Ursula!”
“Aaah,” Dimitra inhales like she’s about to faint and I’m feeling pretty lightheaded myself. “No? Salty Suit is one of them?”
Looking around, I make sure that Blaise isn’t nearby. “You betcha! He owns a freaking oil company...”
“What’s going on?” I hear Roger say in the background and I shift my weight from one hip to the other from impatience.
“Zee fucked an Ursula,” Dimitra says as a matter of fact, but so loud that they probably heard her in Glasgow.
“Nooo,” Roger bellows like it’s a worse disaster than an earthquake and I squirm. “Whaaat?”
I can hear some shuffling in the background and then Roger says, “Zee, you’re a little pervert. Of all the people in the world, you choose to sleep with the enemy.”
“Yeah, shame on you,” Dimitra sniggers and I groan.
“Guys, give me a break. You’ve met him, you know how he makes mouths water.”
Or more like drool.
“Yeah yeah, we know. I hope for your sake that it was good at least,” Dimitra says curiously and I grow flustered.
“Can’t talk right now, I gotta go.”
“That bad, huh?”
“No,” I say blinking, before I add, “I can barely walk.”
“Mmm…,” she and Roger purr in unison and we hang up. I reach for my shoes when I realize I’m not wearing any clothes...
“Leaving so soon?” a dry voice asks and I look up, only to see Blaise leaning against the doorway. “I’m hurt.”
Yeah, I bet he is. His chest and stomach still haven’t fully dried and my tongue darts out automatically, wanting to suck him dry.
Wanting to suck dry other parts of him...
No, I can’t let him distract me with that sinfully sculpted bod that frankly most guys would sacrifice their left arm for.
“I’m cross with you,” I say but he doesn’t look the least bit worried. His aristocratic features as firm as ever. “You’re Ursula!” I add accusatory and his brows knot in confusion.
“Are you having a stroke?” he asks, with lips curved in irony and I put my hands on my hip, because this is serious!
“Don’t joke about this. You’re a villain..., the pipeline D...Draconis thing,” I half stutter, half shriek.
Blaise inhales. “Right,” he says, finally getting my point and he stands straight. “That.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I blurt. “That you own a oil company?”
“I don’t own it,” he says. “My father does, I’m just the boss.”
That barely makes any difference. Only that his villainous nature is apparently inherited. Then again I suppose that if it is inherited then maybe he can’t help it?
