Page 24 of Exposing Adonis

I was no better than them, staring up at her with my mouth open. Would Callum have had the same gaping admiration as his friends?

“Well, hello.” Lady Pippa Fox stretched out an elegant hand to Geordie, who looked at it like it was a coiled snake. “Geordie, good to see you again.”

He shook it with hesitance, trying to touch as little of her as possible. If she noticed, she didn’t react to it. When she moved on, Geordie’s eyes trailed her. His bottom lip rose in a sneer of bitterness, even as his eyes roamed down her elegant body before he shook his head and turned away, his fists clenched at his side.

She went up to Alastair and kissed him on each cheek. I could smell her perfume wafting around us. It smelled expensive, like exclusive stores that required appointments to get in. Some flowery, custom designer, brand name. It had to be. Which one? My layman tastes couldn’t tell.

“Alastair, my friend, how are you?” Her voice dripped of elegance and education. Alastair shrugged, nonchalantly. Then she greeted Hugo the same way, but in perfect French, “Mon bel ami, ça va?”

Her voice wasn’t high or youthful. It was smooth like that thick whiskey that Callum liked. I felt that very insecure need to find a flaw in her. But there was none to find.

Even the lumbering mountain man, Jason Rhodes, softened at her appearance. She gave him a smile, her bare shoulder rising up in a small greeting when he caught her eye. I swear, the security man blushed at her attention. When she placed an elegant hand on his lapel, and whispered a low “Hello,” I think he could have died a happy man.

She turned to me, and looked confused. A small line creased between her perfect eyebrows as her long fingers touched her chin in a thinking gesture.

“Shouldn’t you be getting the bags?” She said, tilting her sunglasses down to regard me. She seemed annoyed that I was there. And, like Callum, made it clear that I looked poor.

“This is Lea Bonifacio.” Geordie’s thick Scottish accent cut into our conversation as he smirked. “Callum’sparticular friend.But youkenthat, very well. Don’t you,hen?”

I had no idea what that label meant, but Geordie said it with such significance that something was getting lost in translation. I was separated from these Brits by a common language.

Pippa gasped, her elegant fingers coming to her open mouth. Then she glowered at me. Her wavy locks should have turned into hissing snakes. I should have turned to stone! Then her lips got tiny as they pursed. She rounded on Geordie with an angry glare.

“What do you mean?” she spat, as if my significance to Callum were Geordie’s fault.

The Scot raised his brow, put his hands in his pocket and unapologetically shrugged. In American, his look could be defined as‘What are you gonna do about it?’

Alex’s eyebrows rose, looking distressed for a moment as he glanced at Pippa, then back at me. His twitchy fingers came to his buttons, turning them until each one was facing identical positions, the threads holding them on perfectly parallel to the ground.

He probably couldn’t believe that Callum would go from this Aphrodite to someone like me. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t believe it either.

“I thought … ” Alex stuttered as his eyes narrowed, looking between me and the goddess ready to smite me.

“I’m sure that’ll all be cleared up when Cal arrives.” Her perfectly glossed, red lips spread into a self-assured smile. “When does he get here?”

“You’re on the wrong side of this, Pip.” Geordie mumbled.

She continued to glare at him, and I don’t think it was all because of my relationship status. If she didn’t watch it, another breeze and her face would get stuck that way.

“We’ll see about that.” Her nose went up in the air in a haughty, very aristocratic way.

She raised her hand to her cheek, as if feeling her skin for a fever. A glint on her hand drew my eyes. An enormous diamond on her left ring finger.

That dirty, son of a bitch.

Chapter 11

Callum

Kemet

Leowasonhisown, low crawling on his belly toward the outer ring of the tent city. I had eyes on him from my perch on the cliff.

I watched through my scope as he snuck behind one of the guards. The sun was low, and bright behind him. The guard squinted at the rising sun and didn’t see the man slowly moving on the ground.

With the swiftness of the serpent, Leo struck. He covered the man’s mouth with a gloved hand, before dragging a dagger across his throat. The guard collapsed to his knees. Leo efficiently dragged him by the shoulders and stuffed him under a nearby vehicle.

It was all done in almost total silence, and over in a matter of minutes. I was impressed. Lea was right. I should have taken her at her word, when she said he could do this.

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