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Her brows pinch slightly. “Does it matter to you that I am?”
My eyes trail her lovely features, then our gazes meet and lock. The gray of her irises darkens, smoky and seductive. Sultry.
Suddenly, I forget how to breathe. I swallow down hard as I reach to touch the collar around her throat. But before my fingertips can make contact with her skin, we’re interrupted.
“Miss Cameron,” Jessica, our hostess, greets. She shifts her attention to me. “Mr. Maxton.”
“Michael Williams will be joining us tonight,” I tell her. “Please let me know when he arrives.”
Jessica glances at the tablet she’s holding. “Ah, yes, he actually got here ten minutes ago and has already been escorted to your table.”
“Thank you.” With a palm flat against Skye’s back, I guide her toward my private booth at the far end of the hall.
“Who is Michael Williams?” she asks.
“He’s a client of mine. But don’t worry, he’s pretty antisocial and probably won’t talk much. Might even choose to move once the auction starts.”
Several of the staff greet us as we make our way through the tables already filling up with patrons. Dinner is served first, along with the complimentary wine to loosen those wrists for the bids.
Loud laughter roars over the chatter, calling my attention to a large table near the front. I grind my teeth as I spot Landon and his buddies hollering to each other, several empty tumblers in front of them. Fucking frat boys.
Landon notices us and lifts a glass our way, an annoying grin on his face.
“Do you think they’ll make a scene?” Skye asks, grimacing as she stares at them.
“Yes,” I say. “But I’ll deal with it later.”
Up ahead, I see the back of Michael’s head as he sits at the table that’s always reserved for me. A waitress is with him, showing him the list of wines he can select from.
Even from several feet away, I can’t help but detect the giddiness with which she smiles as she takes the menu from him. He turns to her so that his profile comes slightly into view.
My step falters. There’s something about him that suddenly strikes me as odd.
Picking up on it, Skye asks, “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not sure.” I approach cautiously now, my gaze narrowed on the man’s dark head.
When we’re about a foot away, he fully turns to me and I realize what it is that disturbed me. This isn’t Michael Williams.
“Hello, Arran.” He grins, a friendly smile that’s completely at odds with the aura of danger that surrounds him.
As if she senses my tension, Skye stiffens. She looks between him and me.
“Who the fuck areyou?” I angle my body so that more of me is between him and Skye.
“Have a seat and I’ll tell you,” he says, his mouth tugged up on one side.
“Better yet, I’ll have you escorted out of my damned club and you can tell my guards who you are.”
The man narrows his steel-blue eyes. “Aren’t you curious as to how I made it through your secure doors and all the way to your table in the first place?” He tuts. “Your guards don’t pose a threat to me. So unless you want a massacre, I suggest you sit your ass in that chair so that we can have a discussion like civilized men.”
I scan the club. Not a single one on my security detail seems aware that there is an intruder. A dangerous one from what I can tell.
“You’re Gideon Black,” I state. There’s no doubt in my mind it’s him. He’s the only one powerful enough to infiltrate this fortress.
He nods and extends his hand to me. For a moment, I consider leaving him hanging, but this isn’t the time or the place. So I take his hand and shake it with a hard enough squeeze that were he a weak man, he’d yelp.
But Gideon Black is not a weak man. He’s as powerful as I am, and he shows it by gripping me just as tightly, all the while doing it with a grin. “Nice to finally meet you, Arran.”
