Page 71 of Rogue's Path
Rhys should have shot him when she had the chance. “Leech with her now?”
“Yeah. All the doctors who are on property are in that room trying to help her. For once, I’m not complaining that we let plastic surgeons in. Bishop was just as leery as you are. He bugged Reaper’s room.”
We can always count on Bishop. Let’s just hope we can stop whatever it is that Reaper’s got planned.
Escort
Dylan
Would I have expected anything less than a formal tea party fit for a queen from Cordelia? I’m not a cozy mystery writer, but even I recognize bone china that’s probably worth more than my car. The only thing out of place in this fancy setup is the hot chocolate instead of tea. But she hid it in these stunning teapots covered with little cozies to keep them hot.
“Do you want to stay for tea?” Cordelia sets a multitiered platter down with several types of mini cakes on it.
Would I love to sit and eat all this beauty? Absolutely. But I don’t want to interfere with Cordelia’s life. “Thank you. But I really need to get some work done or I’ll fall behind.” Which is sorta true. Being way ahead of my release schedule makes my life so much more relaxed.
“You going to work in your room to hide that whisker burn you’ve got going?” Her finger circles around her mouth.
I was hoping it wasn’t as noticeable as I thought.
“Did any actual talking happen?”
“Sort of.” What can I say? We did a lot of kissing.
She laughs.
“Somehow, he apologized and told me we’re talking, then going on a date.”
“Told you? You let a man tell you what you’re doing?”
It wasn’t my fault. His kisses and scalp massages are more than a woman can handle. “Kinda.” I grin.
“Oh. So it’s like that, is it?”
Not totally, but mostly.
“You better start shopping for leather.”
Yuk. I’m going to look like one of Cordelia’s overstuffed piping bags. The only people who look good in leather are a size two, and my hips have never fit in anything close to that size. “Not going to happen.”
“Keep telling yourself that. We lost Greer to the exact same thing.”
Greer? She wasn’t at the party. Did she stop being their friend because she got married? That happens sometimes. You just don’t have time anymore.
The doorbell rings.
Winnie steps in with another woman. Both women have on designer outfits and bags that I’d be afraid to carry around. Winnie’s outfit is part of who she is, a powerful businesswoman. The other’s outfit is sleek, not quite with the classical elegance of old money, but also not gaudy new money either. The diamond on her finger screams ‘look at me’. It’s so large.
“Who happened to you?” Winnie doesn’t have a filter, it seems.
“Winnie!” the other woman chastises.
“It’s not like she’s even trying to hide it, Greer. Dylan made out with someone, and we need the details.”
So that’s Greer. What do they mean by lost when she’s right here meeting up with them?
Interesting. I try to pretend Winnie didn’t ask.
The doorbell chimes again, and Greer opens it since she’s standing right next to it.
