Page 3 of The Devil's Detail
I smirk. “That would be tame.” My smirk widens out as he shudders. Yeah, no one wants the visual of their relative in that kind of position.
“Well, it seems like we both had an experience.” He loves to redirect, and I give it to him. Take my mind off the details. “If there are people here who like the blindfold, no names, and hard fucking, maybe I’ll join CAshO permanently.”
“Thought that was your everyday,” I goad him.
“Actually, on second thoughts, I won’t have time. I’m off back home tomorrow. Maybe Jameson Bonney will be on my flight to England. Any distinguishing marks I should look out for?” His eyes are full of glee. I don’t think I’m ever going to hear the last of this.
“No fucking clue. I was blindfolded, remember?” It sounds farcical, even to my ears.
“You’ve got hands, haven’t you?” He’s looking at me like I’m crazy. “And a tongue.” He’s nearly pissing himself with laughter.
Yes I do have, and they roamed over the cut torso all night. The eight pack, his scent. Fuck they were delicious. Oud,cardamom, and a spice that was just out of reach, but absolutely blew my mind. I could get high on it. Pick it out in a line up.
“Nothing distinguishing. But his body was glorious, serious work gone into it. I’d know, mine is pretty spectacular.” I preen, but I’m not lying either.
“Shut up, you sound like Kell.”
We both grin. One of my sister’s husbands has a serious gym body, and he knows it. As does the rest of the world. He’s always taking his clothes off on stage—rockstars for you.
I start cooking breakfast for us, and he moves the topics onto more mundane subjects.
“What have you decided to do about Carter Maywood? Are you going to meet him? Risk it?”
He’s grinning at me. He knows Hollywood A-lister Carter Maywood. And he knows the man drools over us both. Carter may be a friend of my sister, Evie, but as a security prospect, he’s high risk. Anything goes wrong and he gets hurt, it’s the security’s capability that gets questioned and thrown in the firing line, not the celebrity’s inciting behavior.
I huff. "I've got to go meet him. Evie is on my case about him. Apparently, Carter’s bestie Kasey Becker is on the phone daily to her. He can’t even leave her alone when she’s due to give birth.” I raise my eyebrows at that one. He’s a true pain in the arse. “Telling her how Carter is upset with his current security arrangements. And will we go see him and take him on as a client.” I’m shaking my head in exasperation. “I could do without it, to be honest. I’ve seen some of the debacles on television. He always looks like he’s being mobbed.”
“I’ll mention it her when I get to Scotland. I’m headed there first. She’ll understand if you decide not to take him on. Personally, I’d avoid him like the plague. I know it’s big bucks, but you know that everything has its price for a reason.”
He’s turned serious again, and I know he’s right. I watched some celebrity segment yesterday where Carter was in London and was surrounded whilst having dinner with friends. Ridiculous to be put in such a predicament. Then, instead of trying to temper the crowd and quell it, he’d ramped it up. And his security had let him. So dangerous.
“Well, I’m meeting up with him next week, so I’ll keep you posted. I'll get the lay of the land and then make a decision.”
We sit in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I’m sure Jonno’s are on his mysterious queen, and mine are certainly on my mystifying prince.
Later, as he’s loading his bags into the car, he pauses and harks back to our conversation. I know him so well, it’s an easy follow.
“So do you think you’ll try and find out who it is?” He’s genuinely curious. I can hear it in his voice. He loves a mystery, especially other people’s.
“No, will you?”
He hesitates. It's so slight, I would’ve missed it if I’d blinked. Well, well, well. Jonno Greystone is intrigued. I’ll be watching this space, for certain.
“No. That’s the game, isn’t it?” He’s shrugging a little too hard. And I’m waving my hands around in indifference. Not sure who either of us are trying to kid. “No inhibitions, no names, no feelings or emotions. No contact.”
I nod, and we both stare off into space. Why does that sound like the worst thing in the world right now?
3
Mr Jameson Bonney
Later that March
I can’t eat, I can’t sleep.My waking hours haveincreasedexponentially over the past few weeks. My assistant is convinced I’ve got a serious illness and just don’t want anyone to know. My weight loss has not gone unnoticed.
Even the media are starting to speculate about it, showing pictures of before and after. My latest TV appearance showcasing my abs and talking about my training regimen couldn’t totally quiet the noise either.
But that isn’t even the noise I want to silence. The images of my abs are not the images I keep seeing.
