Page 32 of Beautiful Butterfly

She hurried toward the bar then returned a moment later with their wine. When she set the glasses on their table, she approached Wyatt hesitantly, as if she expected him to act the same way.

“How are you this evening?” he asked politely as he smiled at her.

Relief encompassed her entire body, making her smile reach her hazel eyes. “I’m doing great. Thank you for asking. What can I get you to drink?” She handed him a leatherbound menu.

Wyatt took the menu but didn’t look at it. “I’ll have a cognac and some of those delicious-smelling breadsticks.”

“They’re addictive,” she whispered.

Wyatt chuckled. “They smell like they could be.”

Although he was talking to the sweet girl, he could still hear the conversation at the next table.

“I’ll bring them right out to you.” She walked away with her ponytail swinging.

“You still haven’t told me why you called me out of the blue.” Solomon swirled the wine in his glass before taking a sip.

“I was in town and thought maybe we could get together.” One of Ian’s hands was in his lap, the other holding the neck of his glass. It was clear he didn’t want Solomon to touch him again, and Wyatt didn’t blame the guy. His own skin crawled at the thought of having that hand anywhere near him.

Solomon sighed. “As much as I’ve dreamed of having you in my bed, this isn’t a good time.”

“You could make time for me.” Ian’s voice was laced with seduction as he leaned forward, but he still kept his hands out of Solomon’s reach. “I know you have a penthouse nearby. You can’t spare me an hour or two?”

Bile rose up Wyatt’s throat at Ian having to beg the asshole. If Wyatt could get Solomon into the bathroom, he would beat the names of the other guests out of him.

“An unexpected visitor showed up last night,” Solomon said. “His appearance demands my attention.”

Wyatt went rigid. Alister was taken last night. Was Solomon Mr. Mysterious? Did this fucking deviant have Wyatt’s mate locked up in his penthouse? If so, Solomon had had Alister since last night. It had taken a mere hour to fly to Springrest, and it was only early afternoon.

Still, Wyatt didn’t want to think of what Solomon could have done to Alister in the roughly fifteen hours he’d had him.

His cheetah fought to get free and rip the son of a bitch apart. Wyatt rested his arms on the table and curled his hands toward his body to hide the fact that his claws had slid free.

Ian must have sensed how volatile Wyatt was right now because his body stiffened.

“I guess we can get together another time.” Ian looked at his phone, but the screen was off. “I just got a text from my former agent, anyway. He’s trying to convince me to come out of retirement.”

The server returned with Wyatt’s drink and breadsticks. “Have you decided what you want to order?”

He forced a smile. “I’m still deciding. I’ll need a few more minutes.”

“Excuse me,” Ian said to her. “Can I get the check? I’m in a bit of a rush.”

“Right away, sir.” She hurried off as if she couldn’t get Solomon out of her section fast enough.

“I’m really sorry this didn’t work out.” Solomon stood. “Maybe in the future, when my guest is gone, we can make arrangements.”

Wyatt had to get out of there. He could feel the tips of his canines cutting into his bottom lip as Solomon moved around the table and embraced Ian.

“We’ll make things happen,” Solomon said before he released Ian.

As soon as Solomon headed for the door, Wyatt yanked a fifty from his wallet and threw it on the table. “Tell me you know where he lives.”

“No, so let’s hurry to the car.” They took off out the door. Wyatt spotted Solomon getting into the back seat of a sleek, black car. Ian raced to the parking lot and drove the red sedan to the street just as Solomon’s driver pulled away.

Wyatt jumped into the passenger seat, and Ian followed Solomon’s car.

“I don’t think they make water hot enough to scrub his sliminess from my skin.” Ian snarled. “I picked up on what he was saying. I saw from the corner of my eye that you did too. He’s the one who has Alister.”

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