Page 92 of Fall of a Kingdom
“Why?”
“Nostalgia.” His gaze raked over me, hungry. “What are you doing here, hen? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I didn’t expect you.”
“Which is why I came.” I leaned over and gently skimmed my lips over his. “I thought we both could use a night away from the bairns. They’re safe at home with the nannies. And now you and I can focus on each other.”
His hand slid across my thigh, grazing the nylons covering my skin.
I kept my eyes on his, my breath hitching, when his fingers inched upward to slide across the seam of my body.
He stroked me once, twice, and then pressed the bundle of nerves between my thighs.
“Mr. Campbell,” a voice came from next to the table.
I jumped, feeling my cheeks flush at nearly being caught in the act.
“Mr. Amano,” Flynn greeted, his hand clenching my thigh to keep me where I was. “Are you enjoying the show?”
The Japanese businessman straightened his black silk tie as he nodded. “Very much, but we are ready to enjoy the other pleasantries your hotel has to offer.”
Flynn inclined his head. He gently urged me to stand. Mr. Amano backed up to give me space and I went to the bar to allow Flynn to handle his business accordingly. I wasn’t supposed to be here, so I played my role as arm candy for the night. And that meant that for the evening, I wasn’t going to behave like Flynn’s wife to his clients, even though security and the hotel staff all knew who I was. It was my job to smile, be beautiful and let the men do the talking.
It was thrilling to pretend to be something I wasn’t.
Timid.
Controllable.
It kept our relationship fresh and interesting.
I discreetly watched Flynn pull out an ornate gold key and press it into the palm of the businessman. Mr. Amano reached his other hand out to Flynn and gave it a hearty shake and then he called to his companions who were throwing back the rest of their drinks.
The group of businessmen left the burlesque club quickly, no doubt eager to continue their night of debauchery. Not that I blamed them; I had plans of my own.
Waitresses skittered about the room, gathering empty cocktail glasses and setting them on trays. They brought them to the bar and handed them off to the bartenders, who immediately began to wash them.
The lights turned on, effectively ending the dreamy, nostalgic feel of the club. I was back in the real world. Back in reality.
Flynn strode toward me.
“Guess the magic is over, huh?” I said.
“I’m Flynn Campbell. I create magic out of thin air,” he said, and then grinned wolfishly.
I smirked back, enjoying his arrogance.
“It looks like I’m free for the rest of the night,” he commented.
“Looks like you are.”
“We should go up to the penthouse suite immediately.”
I leaned close to him and whispered in his ear. “Fuck me in an elevator first.”
“You always have the best ideas.”
He clasped my hand and dragged me out of the club. The young man in uniform who’d been guarding the burlesque club door raised his brows when I sent him a little wave.
“Another admirer?” Flynn asked in amusement.
