Page 6 of Devour

“How much is that going to cost? I can’t afford –”

Now she doesn’t even bother hiding how dense she finds me. Her face is practically screaming that she thinks of me as a complete moron. Her tone is borderline patronizing as she says, “There’s no bill.”

Free ride and room. O…kay. Not weird at all. The valet guy only referred to him as my fiancé. And he happened to be the guy to show up at the airport. None of this is alarming or suspicious. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

I’m in so much trouble.

I should call my cousins because this is suspicious activity. Plus, Gram is missing. Maybe not missing but rather misplaced. It could be dangerous – wait – this is. However, I don’t take my phone out and call for help. A part of me wants to find out what awaits me on the top floor. I stand in front of the sleek, black metal elevator. It would be insane to go up. But Gram could be there waiting for me. This could also be my one-way ticket to crazy town. Or the elevator ride I don’t come back down from. Then again, it could be the craziest and best thing I’ve ever done. I won’t know the truth until I go up.

I swipe the card and step inside the sleek elevator. Far too quickly, the doors are sliding open. There he stands waiting for me. His black hair is slicked back and he smirks, revealing his perfectly white teeth with noticeably sharp canines. Piercing blue grey eyes are complemented by long dark lashes. That jaw. Dear Lord, he has a defined jawline with a hint of scruff. His lips are full and pouty. He’s dressed in a very well-fitted gray suit with a red undershirt and black leather dress shoes.

“Hello, Miss Goodman.”

Nope. Nope. Nope. This was a stupid and terrible idea. I immediately regret my decision. I’m going to blame it on the fact I’m running on fumes here, and well past my breaking point. I press the button to close the elevator, but Mr. Deschamps is there in several quick strides, preventing the door from closing with his large frame.

“Is this your lair?” I force out.

He awards me with another charming chuckle. “As a matter of fact, yes. Tonight instead of finding your grandmother in the bed, it’ll be me.”

That doesn’t sound creepy at all. We just met. Who does he think he is? Psychopath. I reach for the red panic button on the elevator, but he covers it with his hand. “A joke. I apologize. I was referring to me being your roommate rather than your grandmother.”

He knew I was rooming with my grandmother. Of course it was on my reservation that I’d be sharing a room and he picked us up together. Or…He must’ve hung around after I fell.

“You…You listened to my conversation? Were you eavesdropping? Spying on me?” How humiliating that he heard all of that and how disturbing that he was listening. “Why?Why?”

“Come sit. I’ll explain everything.” He appears pleasant enough, but there’s a hint of a command there, which makes me laugh.

“No. Do you think I’ll blindly follow you?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “You jumped into a car with me before you knew anything.That’s the definition of going inblind,I’d say.” He has a point.

“Listen pal. I don’t know you. Stranger danger.”

He offers me his hand, but it’s his eyes that have me captured. They’re hypnotizing. I can’t break contact or even think. My lips part as he guides me out of the elevator and I take in the expansive and elegant space. Minimal decorations but that’s probably so as not to distract from the view. Large windows overlook the Vegas strip, the lights glittering through the glass. I turn my head to the right and about fall over. There’s a kitchen. Akitchen.And not like a microwave and refrigerator, but a fully-equipped kitchen that’s nicer than mine at home. Everything, everywhere is so clean…and spotless. He releases my hand and I hate that I miss the warmth from it. I follow him over to an all-white sitting area. The couch is white, the table is white with white granite, and everything is sleek and modern. I want to take everything in but the presence of the man before me is too consuming.

“I’m a stranger, but I don’t have to be. I can be your ally.” He takes a seat on the couch and gestures for me to do the same. “How long are you here for?”

“Til Sunday.” I sit on the far end of the couch, putting plenty of space between us.

“A weekend in Sin City,” he whispers, more to himself than me.

“Have you actually been staying here?” This room looks like a display that nobody has touched.

“Staying? I live here.” His voice oozes with sarcasm as he speaks to me as though I’m an idiot. “Haven’t we already established this is my lair?”

“Wow. You’re a real gentleman.”

He gives me a crooked smile. “Hardly. You’d do well not to forget it.” He licks his lips in a sinful manner. “But you’ll find I can be quite the gentleman, if the situation requires it,” he tells me in a seductive tone. He throws an arm across the back of the couch. “I can be any kind of man I need to be depending on the occasion. Like I mentioned before, I can be your ally. It seems you are in need of a friend. A date for the wedding, perhaps?”

The jerk. Did he set me up? “Did you arrange all this? What are you after?”

Four

Nicholas

“I’d love to take credit because it would be a genius plan. Unfortunately, I can’t. This interesting turn of events is pure fate.”

“Then why are you here?” She pauses in thought and then corrects herself. “Why am I here in your home with you offering to be my date for the wedding?”

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