Page 33 of Exposing Adonis

“Like you have a heart to break,” Geordie sneered, and her eyes snapped to him. “You sound like your father.”

The beautiful ice queen looked at him, hurt and resentment flashing in her eyes.

Then she smiled, whatever was in her eyes melted away with a slight lift of her bare shoulder. “Maybe she had a point.”

Geordie leaned back in his seat, one fist on the table, his index finger tapping angrily at the wooden surface. He hummed with restrained energy, like the slightest provocation would have him on his feet, ready to commit violence. I knew it, because I had been him a hundred times before.

I took my cue from Hugo, and planted a fork in my salad. This conversation was between them, Pippa and Geordie. I was just an excuse to have it.

“You know as well as I do that I’m speaking the truth,” she said, her voice deflated. “It’s just how things are done. I’m not saying it’s fair …”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Geordie interrupted her. Then, with a mocking, fake, whine he said, “From your place in your high tower, is the princess feeling a little oppressed?”

Hugo let out a snort. Alastair pursed his lips, and turned his face away, as if trying to give the two some privacy.

Alex delicately put his fork back down onto his napkin, ensuring that everything was set parallel to one another. Then he placed his hands on his lap and stared at us all, one by one. Assessing us. I held my breath, waiting for his verdict like he was a judge.

“The measure of a man,” Alex said, his voice taking on that ethereal, low note that made you sit up and listen. It was the sound of an orator, capturing the attention of an entire room. “Is not in their wealth, but in what they do with it.”

His voice warmed me like a lullaby. Like all was right in the world. His words had a scent. It was like cut grass on a hot day, running through lawn sprinklers.

I unconsciously leaned over the table toward him, my mouth hanging open as I listened to his soothing voice. Then he smiled, and gave a small, slow, all-knowing shrug that spoke volumes.

“I, for one, welcome you to my table,” Alex said, smiling at me. I sat up straighter, heat climbing up my cheeks as though a teacher had just acknowledged my work in front of the whole class.

“Thank you.” I looked at him, and at our surroundings. “Your place is lovely. You’re so high up, I can’t believe this is all one property.”

“I took inspiration from the old castles of Europe.” He leaned his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers under his chin. “They always had the high ground. It not only signified power, and control over the territory around them, but it strokes the ego. You feel a little more bold, and little more in control when you can glance at the world from a high perch. Sometimes I need that.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s why the penthouse suites are always on the top floor, never the bottom. It’s meaningless in the end, but it speaks to some kind of evolutionary thing.”

“You like to be in control?” I wanted to keep this man speaking. There was just something about his voice, the accent, his slow and easy way of speaking that drew me into his chocolate gaze. It was like the soothing sound of a crystal singing bowl, and the way it could reverberate through your body to bring you peace.

“I think it may be one of my greatest assets.” He tilted his head sheepishly in my direction. “And one of my biggest flaws.”

“I’m sure it’s why a man like you got to where he is.” Sure, I was leaning into being afluffy bunny, but this man had done so much good for the world, so I was genuinely giving him a compliment. “It’s hardly a flaw.”

Servers brought out the main meal on a silver rolling cart. It looked like type fancy hotels used to bring up room service. They took the appetizer plates and placed the next dish in front of us. Joe took his place standing beside me, and he winked down at me with a sly smile. On some silent signal, they unveiled each dish at once.

It smelled … interesting.

“The right contacts and education help, too.” Pippa played with the blue Rolex on her wrist. “Where did you go to school?”

“Cal State Northridge,” I said with a shrug. “Go Matadors!”

This elicited a smile from Alastair, and Hugo.

Joe leaned over my shoulder, and he pointed at Pippa with a purse of his lips and whispered, “Metapobre.”

I hid a giggle. It was a Tagalog word for snob, but had an extra edge. Just the special kind of bite that our Filipino insults could have, without the use of profanity.

Pippa gave us a dirty look, her blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair seeming to flare out in her irritation. Joe stood up and stepped back, but I could still feel that he was smiling.

“What is this?” Hugo said with a wrinkle of his nose, staring at his plate.

“It’s a toad in a hole,” Pippa said, clapping her hands. “It’s British comfort food. I thought everyone would enjoy something like this, considering the circumstances.”

Hugo cringed, picking up his knife and fork with some hesitance. It was amazing how he was so large, but such a picky eater. How was he not shoveling food down his throat?

Hugo looked around the table, looking for a sympathetic face. He found it in mine, and I shrugged, hesitantly digging into the sausage stuck in some kind of omelet-looking thing.

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