Page 7 of Filthy Rich Fae

“Are you lost, Cate Holloway?” His teeth clicked on my name, and I found myself biting my lower lip. Was it just second nature for him to ooze danger and sensuality, or was he trying to lower my defenses?

Lifting my chin, I looked directly into his sparkling eyes. “I’m looking for Lachlan Gage.”

“Really?” He blinked, and that grin flattened into a line. “About what?”

I swallowed. “A personal matter.”

“Personal?” His eyes lit with interest.

“Yes. As in, it’s none of your business.”

“In that case”—he took another suggestive bite of apple—“no.”

Irritation blazed through me, temporarily liberating me from my uneasiness. “I’m not leaving until I see Lachlan.”

He shrugged. “Then tell me why you wish to speak to him.”

It wasn’t like I could force my way around him, even if he wasn’t armed to his perfect white teeth. I took a deep breath. “My brother,” I said. “I need to talk to him about my brother.”

“Tonight?” He waved a hand around, giving me a view of another tattoo, this one covering his forearm to his knuckles. I’d never seen anything like it. Symbols and words in a language foreign to me. “It’s hardly business hours. Make an appointment.”

I doubted Lachlan Gage offered those.

I crossed my arms, trying to look impatient. “This can’t wait.”

“Can’t wait?” he repeated in a bemused voice.

My brother was lying in a hospital bed while this asshole acted like tonight was completely normal. Had he been here during the shooting? Did he even care that people had been hurt? He had to know. Fury blazed in my chest. “That’s why I’m here. It’s a matter of life and death that we come to an understanding.”

“I see.” He thought for a moment as he stretched his neck. Then he moved closer, and my breath hitched. Would he grab me? Throw me back into the street? Or maybe drag me inside?

He smirked as if he’d heard my thoughts, then tossed the apple in a nearby waste bin.

This man was thoroughly aware that he was messing with me.

He turned toward the door. “Follow me and don’t wander off.”

I scrambled after him before he changed his mind—or I lost my nerve. This might be my only shot to save my brother. He paused as the door started to spin, waiting for me. My heart stuttered, but my brain knew better than to trust that gentlemanly gesture. He worked for Gage. He was no gentleman.

I didn’t dare to look at him as he pressed into the compartment behind me, but in the tight space I was acutely aware of him, of the guns under his muscled arms, of the cedar-and-spice scent that surrounded him. I stumbled out, and he strode behind, unrolling his sleeves one at a time and refastening his cufflinks. Men like this didn’t exist. The kind of men that walked through the world like they owned it. I kept sneaking glimpses of him like he might actually be a figment of my imagination.

He paused to slip on his jacket. “After you.”

I mumbled a quick “thank you,” stepped into the foyer, and stopped.

Seeing the hotel from the outside hadn’t prepared me for how big it was inside. White marble floors so glossy that I could see my reflection stretched before us. Columns held up a ceiling that had to be at least thirty feet tall, and at the center of the cavernous foyer, a staircase curved to an upper level. Guests milled about, crossing to a bank of brass elevators or disappearing down corridors. Diamonds and pearls glittered everywhere I looked. Past the wealthy guests, beautiful paintings hung in gilded frames. Everything was elegant and timeless, far from the sleazy front for illegal activities I’d imagined.

“It’s like a palace,” I whispered.

He snorted, obviously amused at my assessment, but didn’t say anything.

A server in a white jacket drifted toward us, extending a silver platter with a gloved hand. “Canapé?”

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I’d been too busy to eat a damn thing all night, but I didn’t trust anything here—not even the food. Before I could shake my head, my companion shooed the server away. He paused to face me. Looking deeply into my eyes, he warned me, “Don’t eat or drink anything here.”

I almost laughed before I realized he wasn’t joking.

“Why?” I planted a hand on my hip and tipped my chin. “Because I don’t belong at your fancy party?”

Source: www.kdbookonline.com