Page 59 of Deadly Rival

Quinn rolls her eyes and lowers her voice. “Why this place? We’re the youngest people in here by, like, thirty years. Might as well have gone to bingo with Grandad.”

I wrap my hand around Ophelia’s leash and give it a shake. “I don’t think you’d want me to bring her to bingo like this?”

There’s an unspoken agreement between all of us that we play things as cool as possible around Jacob’s grandad. Quinn opens her mouth, but Eve cuts her off. “Maybe you ought to introduce Ophelia to everyone else?”

Eve. Polite and ladylike even in the craziest of circumstances.

Ophelia, oblivious to what we’re talking about, stares wide-eyed at Candice’s screen. The CI is smiling right back, and Ophelia looks about as comfortable with her as I first was. Well, I am supposed to be blowing her mind today. No time like the present.

“How rude of me.” I gesture around the table. “This is Jacob, Quinn’s Patron. This is Hadrian. And this is Candice.”

They all offer polite greetings, Candice included. Ophelia looks from her screen to me and back again. I would have let theawkwardness drag on forever, but Quinn jumps in. “Candice is a cybernetic intelligence. The first of her kind. She's a good friend. I’ll bring you to the lab and show you the world we’re building!”

The pride in her voice is heartwarming, and I don’t miss Jacob’s small smile. He’d been worried Quinn wouldn’t find a place in the Compound, but things settled as soon as she met Candice.

“That’d be wonderful.” Candice says with her odd accent—US with a distinct Scottish twang. “Where’s somewhere you always wanted to travel but never got the chance?”

“I…” Ophelia glances around the table. She’s probably worried this is some sort of setup to make her look like an idiot.

Quinn grins. “Just talk to her. She’s a real person.”

Debatable, but I certainly wouldn’t say that in front of Quinn. If there is ever a campaign for cybernetic rights, Quinn will be the figurehead. Or she would be, if she wasn’t stuck here.

“I…Well…Egypt, I suppose. I’ve always wanted to see the pyramids.”

“Oooh. Me too.” Eve’s voice has a wistful note, and I have another of those moments where reality hits and everything wobbles. She never will, and it’s as much my fault as anyone’s. All of us Brothers are as guilty as the rest, keeping our dirty little secret.

I shake the mood off as dinner progresses. I pre-ordered a tasting menu for the table, ten courses paired with wine, and Ophelia chats with the girls through the first three. She won’t even look at the guys, and I can hardly blame her. Having dinner with your new friends and the men holding them captive has to be tricky to get your head around.

By the time the fourth course—pâté with wafer-thin toast points—comes out, she’s squirming on her seat.It’s time.

I slide my hand onto her thigh. She squeaks, then covers her mouth and sits with a fixed expression as I draw circles on her skin. It’s so, so tempting to push her knees apart and go straight for her clit, but by this point, she’d probably orgasm from a single touch. Entertaining, but not what I want.

She clutches her knife and fork as though she’s going to stab me with them but doesn’t touch her food. Conversation has shifted away from her, and I need to drag it back. As soon as there’s a lull, I say, “Ophelia used to own a beauty salon. Didn’t you, pet? What was it called?”

All eyes lock on her. I pause my fingers long enough for her to take a shuddering breath, then give her a light pinch just as she speaks. “Kallos!”

It’s a high-pitched shriek, and confused glances pass around the group. I rub the spot I just pinched. “That’s a pretty name. What does it mean?”

She’s clamped her thighs together but can’t stop me from working my finger between them. I tease the spot just above her clit, and she lets out a tiny whimper before she forces out, “It’s Greek for beauty.”

“How did you come up with that name?”

Her face is bright red, and she gives me a single, pleading glance.

“Are you all right, Ophelia?” Eve’s soft voice cuts in.

“She’s fine. I just gave her a good dose of hot salve before we left. She’s finding it a bit distracting.”

The table is slow to react. Hadrian and Candice look confused. Gabriel smirks—he was the one who first told me about the salve. Jacob mutters something about just wanting to have a nice fucking dinner for once, and the girls both shoot me laser death stares I’ll feel for months.

“You bastard!” Quinn shrieks, and some of the old coots send disapproving glances our way. “You take that poor girl home right now.”

Eve shakes her head like she’s not mad, just disappointed, and it bothers me for a second, until Ophelia lets out a strangled whimper. I stop my fingers dead. I almost pushed her over the edge.

“She had her chance for that but didn’t want to take it.” I shrug, as if baffled by her choice. “All she had to do was say one simple phrase. But we’re here now, and I think I’ll give her a choice.”

I move my hand again, and she shudders. She must be right on the edge. Which of my two terrible options will she take? It depends how desperate she is, I suppose. I give Ophelia my full attention and raise my voice to make sure everyone, even the surrounding tables, will hear.

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