Page 15 of Vicious Seduction

“We?” A hint of breathlessness feathered the word.

Oran was handsome on a bad day—wearing a mask accentuated his angular jaw and the liquid mercury of his heated stare. He looked utterly mesmerizing.

“My family owns the club.” He motioned to the busy room. “Shall I show you around?”

“Yes, thank you.” They owned the place. That was unexpected, though it shouldn’t have been if they were mafia. I wasn’t sure of the implications, so I stored the information away for future consideration.

His eyes lifted to the bartender behind me. “Mark, you need anything before I go?”

“Nah, boss. We’re covered here.”

Oran nodded and grabbed several napkins, which he then wrapped around the side of my glass to keep my fingers from getting cold. He did it matter-of-factly as if we’d been together for years. As if it was so customary, it didn’t even register that he’d done anything. But I watched every careful movement of his hands as though he’d performed afascinating magic trick. In my experience, men like him didn’t do things like that. I didn’t know what to think or how to react.

Oblivious to my discomposure, he gestured for us to start our tour. Leaning a bit closer, he spoke softly. “Forgive me for not saying so earlier, but you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

“Thank you.” Was that warmth in my cheeks? Dear God, was I blushing?

I couldn’t fathom what had gotten into me.

Needing to ground myself, I redirected our conversation. “How did your meeting with Lawrence go?” This seemed like a perfect opportunity to explore their connection and focus on my goal.

Oran didn’t answer immediately. I snuck a glance at him, surprised to see his jaw tightly clenched and a storm darkening his eyes.

“It went well enough.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed that by looking at you right now. You look ready to strangle someone.”

He peered at me out of the corner of his eye. “Come with me where we can talk more privately.” He didn’t wait for a reply. Taking my hand in his, he led me to a small hallway with two closed doors opposite one another. When he took out a set of keys to unlock one of the rooms, unease sent a spike of adrenaline through my veins.

“No, Oran. I’m not—”

The door pushed open, revealing a private gaming room. The tension in my shoulders eased a fraction.

“We can leave the door open, if you prefer.” He studied me, his perceptiveness unnerving me even further. “I thought you might prefer if we weren’t overheard.”

I nodded, ready to do anything to be free of his scrutiny.True to his word, he left the door open after following me inside.

“I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know when I say that Lawrence Wellington is no good for you.”

I was struck by the hypocrisy. How could Oran think he was any better than Lawrence when both were drunk on their need for power? Fancy clubs. Beautiful women. Enormous mansions and fast cars—anything and everything to be seen and envied. That type of person took what they wanted without a second thought. They didn’t care about anything but themselves.

“And why is that?” I asked, acid dripping from every acrid word. “Because he’s a criminal, the same as you? It seems like someone in organized crime shouldn’t be casting stones at others.”

“Our income sources have nothing to do with it.”

“Then why is he so bad? Because he’s not you?”

Oran took a menacing step closer. “He doesn’t appreciate you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“If you know, then why the fuck are you still seeing him?” He ripped off his mask and tossed it to the floor, unleashing the full brunt of his scathing stare. His anger spurred my own.

“Because life is fucking complicated,” I shot back at him while jabbing my finger into his broad chest. “Because I was born to a woman who would rather sell her goddamn soul than risk beingordinary.”

He snatched my hand and brought it to my back, pulling me close against him in the same motion. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“If you want to know, go ask her yourself. She’s a longtime member of your precious Olympus Club.” My temperflared out of control, and I spewed things I had no business saying. Realizing what I’d done, I clamped my jaw shut. I could feel my nostrils flaring with the need for oxygen, but I refused to open my mouth and risk saying more.

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