Page 28 of The Devil's Deceit
A gentle breeze lifts the hair at the back of my neck as I step outside. In the distance, headlights shine, a snake of carsmaking their way from the main gatehouse to the hall. My heart thumps against my ribcage, my eyes peeled for signs of my car. The first guests arrive, stepping out of their chauffeur driven cars in their finery. Men in crisp shirts and tuxedos, women in designer gowns and sparkling jewels.
None of them hold a candle to Grace.
I nod and smile at a few regulars, making a joke about ensuring their wallets are open for tonight’s chosen charity. This evening, we’re collecting for a children’s cancer hospital, and we expect to make a solid eight figures. My family’s reputation precedes us, but while some of our choices may be gray in color, events like tonight are important. Especially to my father. He started this tradition along with his brother more than forty years ago, not long after their parents, my paternal grandparents, passed away in a plane crash.
A glower steals across my face as my thoughts turn to Dad’s brother. I refuse to think of him in terms of an uncle. Not now we know the truth of what he did to my mother. George and his wife Alice have disappeared, despite ours and The Consortium’s best efforts to find them. That we haven’t located them by now leads me to believe they’re hiding off grid, in all likelihood using small islands with limited security and non-existent CCTV footage in streets and shops. Probably skipping around a lot, too. Long term, it won’t work. It’s only a matter of time before we catch up to them and wring that raping bastard’s neck.
“You look as though you’re about to murder someone.” Loris Winslow approaches me, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I am,” I reply. “You.”
“Me?” He points at himself, his faux innocence not fooling anyone, least of all me.
“Yes, you.” I lean forward and kiss Destiny on the cheek. “Your husband is a blabbermouth.”
Destiny giggles. “No lies detected, Christian.” She glances at the line of cars waiting to pull up and let the occupants out. “Is Grace coming this evening?”
“Yes,” I say, forcing a confidence I’m not feeling. “She should be here by now. My fingers itch to call Dawson, but if the pickup had gone wrong, my driver would’ve called me. It’s fine. She’ll be here.
“Oh, good. It will be nice to see her again.”
Spotting someone she knows, Destiny pats Loris on the arm and drifts over to speak with them. Without a lady present, I return my glower to its rightful place.
“You do know that Tobias won’t let up now, right? He’ll take the piss out of me for months. Cheers, buddy.”
Loris’s grin grows even wider. “You’re welcome.” Clapping me on the back, he then wanders over to join his wife.
I return to my hobby of scanning the line of vehicles, looking for mine. I spot it five cars back. Striding forward, I tap on the window to alert Dawson to my presence, then open the back door and peer inside. I’m not one for overembellishing anything, but I almost swallow my tongue and pass out from holding my breath. My dick, eager to get in on the act of dumb male, springs into action. Thankfully, my jacket will cover my embarrassment. Greeting my date for the evening sporting a gigantic boner isn’t done at the best of times. When it’s a classy lady like Grace, it’s fucking unacceptable.
Unfortunately for me, my dick isn’t willing to listen to reason.
“Grace.” My voice sounds husky, as though I’ve had aparticularly bad night’s sleep and passed the time smoking cigars. “Allow me.” I reach in for her hand.
As our skin touches, an electric shock travels up my arm. This woman has really got to me, and I don’t know what to do about it. We hardly know each other, yet there’s something about her that draws me in, like we’re two halves of the same whole, separated by circumstance, whose lives have collided. And now they have, I don’t want to let her go.
It’s unsettling to say the least. I’m not a fan.
She glides from the car, and like a complete dick, I just stare and stare. That dress was the perfect pick. I make a mental note to buy Saskia something nice as a thank you. The jewels look perfect on Grace, but truthfully, she sparkles without the diamonds.
“You look?—”
“Like sex on a stick,” her friend offers, smiling broadly as she climbs out the other side of the car.
“Juliet,” Grace scolds, glaring at her friend. “Ignore her.”
I run the back of my hand down Grace’s bare arm. “I mean, she isn’t wrong, but I’d have probably gone with beautiful or stunning. Sex on a stick should be reserved for a third date, and this is only our second.”
She gives me a coy smile. “Thank you for the dress and the jewels. I appreciate the loan. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you on our second date.”
“They’re a gift, not a loan, and before you argue and spoil the beginning of our second date, I’m going to save you the trouble.”
“But, Christian, they must have cost a fortune. It’s far too extravagant, considering we hardly know each other.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I’ve always beenoverly generous with the women I’ve dated—gift giving is my love language—but that would entail talking about other women, and the only woman I’m interested in conversing with, or having a conversation about, is Grace.
“I won’t hear another word about it.”
She purses her lips. “I would feel far more comfortable if they were a loan.”
