My Dangerous Pleasure (34 page)
“Yes, sir, I did.”
While she watched in amazement, Xia went down on both knees and then bowed his head, the fingers of one hand pressed to his forehead. That got them some attention. The noise level in the room went down several more notches. Xia looked up and said, “For food like that, I’d swear fealty to you if I weren’t already sworn.”
“Good grief, get up.” She shot a glance at Iskander, but he was no help. He was grinning like he’d made the brownies himself. “They’re only brownies.”
He stood, smiling like a kid. “What else did you bring?”
A petite woman with glossy black hair and a hooked nose that made her more beautiful rather than less, sidled in between Iskander and Xia to reach for a brownie. She wasn’t the least bit afraid of Xia, and for a moment she wondered if this was Alexandrine. The woman slid a shoulder across Iskander’s chest as she got between the table and Xia. She was magekind. “Hello, Iskander.”
“Hey, Maddy.” Iskander didn’t do anything to avoid or end the contact. Plainly they were good friends. Then again, Iskander was friends with everyone. And a flirt.
“Cookies,” Paisley said in answer to Xia’s earlier question. She tried to ignore Iskander and Maddy and couldn’t. “There’s cake, too.” She handed Xia one of the chocolate chocolate-chip cookies. “I brought strawberry custard tarts, too.”
He looked at her from over the top of the cookie. “You made these, too?”
“Yes, sir.”
He bit into the cookie. By now, there were several people crowding around the table.
Maddy fixed her attention on Paisley. She had a tart in one hand and the other on Iskander’s chest. Her dark eyes went wide when she took a bite. “These are heavenly.”
“Thank you very much.” Paisley turned around and unboxed the cake, sliding the disassembled cardboard container from underneath. She had an awkward moment while she looked for a place to put the cardboard. She slipped it under the table. She was jealous of Maddy, which was stupid.
Oh, Jesus. She wanted to be the one who touched him like that. In front of everyone. She bowed her head. Somewhere along the way, her feelings for Iskander had gotten complicated. Or maybe it wasn’t complicated at all. She pressed her hands to the table to stop them from trembling. Her first time meeting Iskander’s friends and she was turning into a jealous bitch.
Meanwhile, Xia stepped up to examine the cake she’d made. White chocolate buttercream with white chocolate dots and sugared violets. Inside was chocolate and vanilla checkerboard, though the others didn’t know that yet. Xia looked at her and back at the cake. “I fucking worship you.”
“Paisley,” someone said.
She looked and saw Harsh coming toward them. He wore a suit tonight, and for once she could believe he was a physician just from looking at him. “Dr. Marit.”
Maddy gave her a strange look. She still had her hand on Iskander’s chest.
“Don’t you clean up nice?” Paisley reached up and touched Harsh’s tie. He preened for her until she had to laugh. If Iskander could flirt with Maddy, then she could flirt with Harsh. Right?
“Thank you.” He surveyed the cake. “That is too pretty to eat.”
“No, it’s not,” Iskander said. He pushed his way closer, away from Maddy, who, Paisley was aware, was now regarding her with a curious expression. “Totally not. That’s killer frosting right there—she made it specially for me—and I’m not passing it up because you’re a pussy.” He threw out a hand and grabbed a fistful of Xia’s shirt. “Give me your knife.”
“Fuck off. You’re not cutting cake with my knife.”
Iskander glared at him. Maddy had yet to stop staring at her, and that meant Paisley had to concentrate on not staring back just as rudely. A shiver took her, raising goose bumps up and down her arms. Something in Paisley’s chest flexed, and Maddy’s eyes widened. The woman mouthed the word
ouch
.
“That shit’s not going to work with her,” Iskander said with a glance at Maddy. “She’s a resistant.”
“So I’ve learned.”
“You want cake, Xia?” Iskander asked. “Or are you a pussy, too, and just want to look at it?”
Paisley didn’t care for Maddy. At all. She was still standing too close to Iskander, for one thing. Xia unsnapped the weapon from the scabbard at his hip and handed Iskander a knife that didn’t look like any knife Paisley had ever seen.
“Put that thing away,” Harsh said. He made a brusque motion with one hand. “It’s not safe in here and you know it.” It wasn’t clear to Paisley what Harsh meant by that besides what was obvious about a knife that wasn’t made for cutting cake. Harsh said, “I’ll get a knife from the kitchen.” He glared at Iskander and Xia. “No one do anything stupid.”
“Don’t look at me,” Iskander said.
“Maddy,” Harsh said. “Don’t let them do anything stupid.”
“I make no promises,” she said.
While Harsh went off, Maddy walked to Paisley and stuck out her hand. “I’m Maddy Winters. Nikodemus speaks very highly of you.”
Paisley didn’t want to shake hands but she did. “Paisley Nichols. Nice to meet you, too.”
“How did you and Iskander meet?” She was being pleasant, but Paisley couldn’t help thinking there was a note of something else in her words and in the way Maddy looked her up and down. Obviously, she thought Paisley was yet another in Iskander’s parade of women.
She pasted on a big smile. “He’s my landlord.”
Iskander draped an arm around Maddy’s shoulder, and the witch’s arm slipped lower until only her thumb in his belt loop kept her hand from ending up on his ass. “I thought you knew. Rasmus scourged her apartment. She lives with me now.”
Maddy twisted to look at Iskander. “She lives with you?”
“Yeah,” Iskander said. Maddy disengaged from their embrace, and Iskander didn’t seem to notice the look she gave him. Or the long and thoughtful look she gave Paisley.
“What have you two done?” Maddy said softly.
Iskander was oblivious. “We need to talk about our boy Rasmus Kessler tonight.”
Harsh returned with the knife and a stack of plates, so Paisley didn’t hear the rest of Iskander’s conversation with Maddy. Harsh, she found, knew enough about the serious business of cake cutting to have brought a bowl of hot water and a towel.
“Bless you, Harsh.”
“My pleasure.”
She busied herself cutting square slices of cake. Harsh stayed next to her, moving plates of cake out of her way while she dipped the knife in the warm water and dried it off before she cut the next series of slices. The whole time, she was aware of Iskander and Maddy standing together. Close together.
Everything clicked into place. Of course. Iskander had been to bed with Maddy. She knew it. Absolutely knew it.
“They seem very friendly,” she said to Harsh.
“Maddy and Iskander?”
“Yes.” The knife hit the bottom of the cake plate with a
thunk
.
“He does some work for her from time to time.”
Ka-chink
. “Work.”
Ka-thunk
. “How long did they date?” she asked as calmly as she could.
“I don’t think they did.” Harsh laughed. “But then Iskander doesn’t date so much as commit serial sex. Maddy’s too good for him.”
She stopped cutting cake. “With all due respect,” she said in a low voice, “that is bullshit.” She lifted the knife between them, pointing it at Harsh. “Iskander is my friend. He is kind and caring and generous, so don’t you dare go around saying he’s not good enough for someone.”
Harsh lifted his hands. “My apologies.”
“Apology accepted.” She kept cutting slices until Harsh wrapped his fingers around her elbow.
“Put away the knife, Paisley, and let me introduce you around before the meeting gets going.”
She shot a glance in Iskander’s direction. He was still talking to Maddy. The beautiful, very sexy, very-interested-in-him Maddy Winters.
Harsh said, “It’s her business to know what’s going on with the magekind in this territory. She’s going to be interested in you, too.”
“Isn’t that just lovely?”
He walked her away from the table and started introducing her around. At least meeting the others was a distraction. She was shaking hands with yet another demon when a chill went through the room. It hit her, too. Just about everyone turned toward the main door.
A tall—most of these guys were tall—man with brown hair and light brown eyes came in with his arm draped around a woman so beautiful Paisley was in love with her herself. The two made a stunning couple. He was as gorgeous as the woman with him. “Wow,” she whispered.
A strange thing happened, which she noticed because of where she was standing. First, the guy with brown hair, who was almost too adorably cute and had obviously dressed down for the party, paid no attention whatsoever to the fifteen or so men who faced him and touched their fingers to their foreheads as he passed.
He zeroed in on Maddy like he had some kind of radar. His hand, which was on the beautiful woman’s shoulder, slid down to her waist, bringing her in tight. Maddy, who up to now had been keeping a more polite distance from Iskander—not that Paisley was keeping track—took one look at the guy and plastered herself against Iskander. Iskander looked like he’d been bitten by a rattlesnake.
The couple headed straight for Harsh. The man kept his arm around his companion’s waist. When they stopped, she shook her long black hair over her shoulder and smiled. “Harsh, nice to see you. As ever.”
Harsh pressed his fingers to his bowed forehead as the others had done. “Kynan,” he said. “And, Emily. A pleasure to see you, too.”
Kynan nodded like it was nothing to be greeted so formally. Then he looked straight at Paisley and said, “You’re the new girl Nikodemus is so worked up about.”
“Kynan,” Harsh said, “this is Paisley Nichols.” He drew in a breath and put a hand on her elbow again, as if he thought she needed to be steadied. From the corner of her eye, she saw Iskander striding toward them. “Paisley,” Harsh went on in a smooth voice, “this is Kynan Aijan and Emily dit Menart.”
Paisley stuck out her hand. “Paisley.” She forced a grin. “The new girl. Nice to meet you, sir.”
The man’s eyes pierced her. He looked young, early twenties at best, but his eyes were a million years old. He stared at her, and she gazed back, taking in the ripped jeans and faded T-shirt and the eyes that belonged to a much older man, and her stomach curled up. Not in a good way. He swiped his thumb across her forehead like he was removing a smudge. While he did that, his eyes connected with hers, and for a minute she lost all sense of where she was in space. If Harsh hadn’t been holding on to her, she would have fallen over.
She blinked a few times before things came back into focus, and even then not all at once. First, she became aware of the warmth of someone’s fingers on the back of her arm, then the music playing and the sound of muted conversation. Kynan’s eyes continued to bore into her. They were more gold than bronze, she thought.
“My friend, leave her alone.”
“Iskander,” Kynan said in a voice that sent shivers of cold up and down her spine, “what the hell were you thinking?”
“None of your goddamned business.”
That was Iskander speaking. His arm steadying her. He didn’t sound like his usual cheerful self. She looked up and saw that wasn’t his usual cheerful expression, either. Maddy was beside him, though not touching him any longer. If looks could kill, Kynan would be a puddle on the floor. “And you will not interfere.”
Another chill went through the room as Nikodemus strolled in. Carson went to his side. The room fell silent. Everyone bowed, even Kynan, fingers pressed to their foreheads. “Oh, good,” he said. “You’re all here.” He looked around and waited a beat. “There’s a mage coming in the next five minutes. A representative of the Russian Federation. Paisley, if he’s a screamer, and I think he will be, you do your thing. I have a fucking point to make with the Russians.”
The Palace Hotel, San Francisco
H
is thoughts came into focus with a snap. There was no time for the breathless disorder that came with finding himself alone in his mind. He could not recall his name or where, precisely, he might be, but he was bone certain that if he had five minutes alone, he’d be lucky. Luck had not been with him lately. She would come. Fen. And he would lose even this moment of control.