Page 26 of Iris' Lying Eyes

She tsks, and I bristle, as she says, “Come along then. I only have so much time.”

“For what?”

Her chin lifts and she eyes me down her long nose before saying, “Your wardrobe, Miss. Mr. Bruno has provided strict instructions.”

“Wardrobe, hm?” Color me intrigued, but this is a waste of my time. Fuck.

“Yes, let’s start with measurements.”

I consider refusing, but if I do, it’s likely Bastion will make an appearance, and I need him to stay far away.

So I stand for an hour while the dragon pokes and prods me before waiting by the window while she makes copious notes.

Finally, she looks up. “That’s taken care of. I have a few pieces that I’ll leave now.”

Again, her eyes trace my figure, and I curl my lip. “Great. Thanks.”

Meeting my stare with narrowed eyes, she frowns and I clench my hand to resist squirming under her shrewd gaze. Why do I get the sense there’s more to her than just clothes?

Dropping her notepad and pen back into her leather bag, she says, “Did you know your father, Miss O’Malley?”

“Why?” I ask. Who is this chick? What the fuck does she care?

Ignoring my hostile tone, she says, “You look just like him.”

“Really? You knew Levi O’Malley?” I ask, studying her closely.

“Hm,” she says, which doesn’t answer the fucking question. Shady bitch.

“If you ever want to know more about him . . .”

She holds out a card, and I grab it from her hand before escaping the room.

What does she know?

Shaking off the tingle of awareness, I head for the front door, only to be waylaid by the same damn maid who steps into the hall.

“Um—”

“What now?” I snarl.

“Iris!” Bastion growls, and I spin to find him approaching from another hall.

He is, of course, scowling but fuck if my insides don’t go haywire anyway. Which is why I fold my arms and say, “What?”

“Don’t be a bitch. She’s just doing her job.”

A glance at her reveals flushed cheeks and the beginnings of a shy smile, and my heart jumps into my throat.

“Whatever,” I bark. “When you’re done making cow eyes at him, maybe you can bring me a drink?”

She squeaks, glances at Bastion, and flees down the hall. Mentally rolling my eyes, I turn to Bastion, whose jaw is clenched so tight, I’m surprised he can speak through it.

“Your attitude is fucking disgusting.”

Scoffing, I raise a brow. “Oh, sorry, was I too harsh? Or maybe you’re thinking with your little head down there?”

His eyes flash and he steps into me, his sizable dick rubbing against my belly. My skin flames, and I fight back a shiver as he says, “There’s nothing little about me.”

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