Page 50 of Veil

“We can still play,” he offers with a wicked grin. “There are plenty of other rooms to explore at Veil if you’d like.”

“Will you still send me flowers on Mondays with those dirty little notes?”

His brows dip slightly.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head and smiles. “Nothing. I was just thinking about something. What were you saying about the flowers?”

“The blue roses. I’ll admit the first one made me feel a little unnerved, but then I saw the one in our room at Veil and I realized they were from you. It was sweet. I was a little thrown off when you left the one on my car the other day.” I grin as another thought occurs to me. “Were you the one who paid for the tab that night Heather and I met for drinks?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “But I did pay for the hotel.”

My eyes bulge. “I thought that was Victor.” I blow out a breath in relief. “Thank you for doing that. I’ll pay you back.”

He leans over, planting his hands on either side of my hips and brushing his lips over mine. “You can pay me back with a kiss.”

I part my lips and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. His kiss is soft and gentle, and only lasts a few minutes before we break apart.

“So what happens now?” I ask.

“The fantasy is over, Makayla.” He rests his forehead against mine. “No Veil. No blindfold. No whispers. Just you and me. Yeah?”

My head nods against his. “Yeah.”

“Good girl.”

The blindfold may have heightened my senses, allowing me to feel pleasures I never knew existed, but all of that pales in comparison to the pleasure of staring into Cannon’s warm, affectionate eyes as he makes love to me under the soft glow of my bedside lamp.

And suddenly, I'm back in the deep end, but this time I’m not sinking.

I’m floating.

TWENTY-SIX

CANNON

Ican’t shake this unsettled feeling in my gut. When Makayla told me about the flowers—blue roses—that she’d been getting every Monday, a heavy sense of dread coiled in the pit of my stomach. I know Desiree loves them because of what they represent: unattainable and mysterious. Hell, she even has a private florist on our payroll who comes out once a week to refresh the arrangements around the mansion.

Makayla mentioned seeing one in our room, but I never noticed because my focus has always been on her. She was so relieved when she thought they were from me, I didn’t have the heart to tell her they weren’t. The rose deliveries are a message and I know they’re not from Desiree.

My guess is they’re from Victor.

But what is he trying to say?

I roll my head to the side to look at my beautiful girl sleeping soundly beside me. The room is still bathed in soft light from the bedside lamp on her nightstand, allowing me to see her up close. Her hands are tucked under her cheek, and little puffs of air pass through her slightly parted lips with every exhale. There’s a small cluster of freckles on her nose and her long lashes fan out over the tops of her cheeks. She really does look like an angel.

Sliding from the bed, being careful not to wake her, I move around to her side of the bed and turn off the lamp. When I go to the window to shut the blinds, I spot a lone figure ducking into the dark shadows just beyond the streetlight. It was fast, but I saw him.

I’m going to put an end to this shit once and for all.

I tiptoe back over to the other side of the room where my jeans are lying on the floor and dig my phone from the pocket. The moment I’m in the living room, I pull up my contacts and tap on Enzo’s number.

He answers on the first ring. “What is it?”

“I’ve got a problem and I need your help.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

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