Page 17 of Gilded Caresses

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Cute ass, huh? Okay, I’ll take that.” She taps my phone. “I can give them your number if you like. Walk over, drop it on their table.” Her smile is devilish while my expression is closer to a sheet of paper—completely blank.

“Belle, please don’t get me killed. Your brother is sweet and all but I don’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I know how miserable you are about thinking you owe Harlon. I just wanted to help. Tell me I didn’tsee what I obviously saw between you and those men just a minute ago and I’ll drop it.”

“It was nothing.”

“Did I mention it’s a paying job?”

Lord save me.“Paid to get knocked up?”

“Yep.”

I gulp my margarita, tossing the whole thing back letting my cheeks bulge with the liquid.

I know the second she sees the bruises. The quick, sharp intake of her breath is deafening.

Well, that’s one way to get off the topic of babies and breeding.

There’s not a good enough concealer in the world to hide the black and blue marks marring my skin, but I tried.

“Oh my God, Sapphire! What the holy hell happened?” Her voice climbs and her eyes dart all over. My throat, my bare shoulder. My fingers. “Were you in an accident?”

Worry pours from her.

“Here I was flooding your phone all day with silly selfies and talking babies when you were in trouble and obviously traumatized.”

She weaves the fingers of one hand through mine over the table’s polished top. “Tell me. What the hell happened?”

Using the other she turns my chin left and right no doubt noticing the thumbprint on one side and the four fingers on the other.

“Damn, Sapph, is that a cut? Who did this to you?”

It’s a long shot she’ll drop the subject but I try anyway. “It’s nothing. A misunderstanding at work. It’s all sorted out. Honestly. How about another margarita?”

“Here, take my drink. I’ll get us more. Lots more. Should I cancel my show? Oh, crap.” She glances at her watch. “It’s almost time.”

Her chilled margarita is shoved into my hands.Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

I start with a small sip which is heaven, the second and third shoot straight to my brain. The rest works to loosen the kinks in my body.

One more of these and I should be good to go.

Belle stops a passing waiter dressed in The Society’s attire. Black dress slacks and crisp white shirt. No name tag.

“Hey, sweetie, will you bring a pitcher and an ice pack please?” Belle moves into momma hen mode. There will be no stopping her now. She was that way growing up and hasn’t changed. It’s just who she is.

“Now tell me everything.” Big brown eyes don’t leave my face as I spill my guts for the next half hour. Snake Eyes, the knife, Riot…everything. It’s what’s great about our relationship. Besides being cousins, we are each other’s confidants.

“I hope Harlon cuts his nuts off and feeds it to him in front of those two assholes who were supposed to help you.” Raking her gaze over my neck again she looks close to picking up the phone and making a few calls. Something her brother, Harlon, does. She may want to think she’s not part of the family business, but it’s in her genes as much as it is mine.

Except, Belle is determined to make her own life and not be shoved into a straight jacket of rules. Only after a few shows, New Orleans has reached out for her to visit and perform. With her men of course. Maybe she’ll be lucky and land one of the first shows in the New York branch if that comes to be.

We clink glasses. Around a mouthful of tequila and salty margarita mix I concur. “I don’t doubt Snaky is wishing for a career change right about now.”

“Speaking of careers, how long before you tell my brother to stick it and you run away with me to New Orleans?”

“As soon as you tell him you’re screwing three guys in the middle of a sex club.”

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