Spanked by an Angel [Notorious Nephilim 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (9 page)

Abigail picked up a menu so she wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“He can be a bear when his feathers get ruffled.”

She glanced over the top of the menu. “Bears don’t have feathers.”

“Ha ha.”

“He told me I had nothing to apologize for and then mentioned the party tomorrow night.”

Emmett looked surprised. “He’s going?”

“He seemed to indicate he was.”

“I’ll eat that menu if he actually makes an appearance.”

She put down the menu as a waiter walked over. After they’d given their orders, she leaned forward, inhaling his scent. “Is Zach not the party type?”

“Not even close.”

“He said Tiffany would be able to help me with a costume.”

“She’s off duty, but I can have someone call her. She’s really into the eighties, so I’m sure she’d be glad to help you.”

“Where does all the staff live? It’s pretty secluded up here.”

“They live here, in a separate wing.”

“Is that where you and the other owners live as well?”

When Emmett grinned, her panties became moist. Good Lord. She needed one night of rest, at the very least.

“Why? Would you like to see my room?”

She lowered her voice. “Not tonight. I’m tired and sore.”

He pouted, but his eyes still danced with light. “I’m crushed, Abigail.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Doubtful.”

“What will he survive?”

Abigail spun around as Zach’s smooth voice floated toward them. How had he heard them from several feet away?

“Me getting some rest tonight.”

Zach took a seat next to her, his gaze intense. Memories of last night came flooding back, along with more wetness between her legs. She’d never reacted this way to any man, let alone two.

“Neither one of us will survive that, Abigail. How can you be so cruel?”

She looked from one to the other. Both wore identical grins, and their eyes shone. She wondered if she’d still be walking by the end of her two weeks here. “I could point out at least a dozen women in this room who are watching the two of you right now, hoping to catch your attention. If you need willing female company, there’s plenty of it.”

Zach took her hand and caressed her palm, sending shock waves straight to her clit. “But there’s only one Abigail Emily Cosslin.”

She bit back a moan as she recalled the way Emmett had called her by her full name several times this morning in the meditation room.

“I need a drink,” said Emmett, signaling for their waiter. “Zach, your usual?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight.” He addressed the waiter. “Black coffee. Abigail? Hot chocolate with Baileys tonight or something different? Have you ever had hot milk and rum? We mix nutmeg in with it. I think you’d like it. Much more of a kick than the hot chocolate.”

She smiled. “That sounds delicious. I’ll try it.”

“Bring a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon,” said Emmett. “Cooper’s Hawk.”

“A whole bottle?” asked Zach, his voice teasing.

“You’re right. I should have asked for a shovel and my hip boots instead.”

A look passed between the two that Abigail couldn’t interpret, and suddenly didn’t want to. If tonight’s dinner ended up the same as the previous evening, she was definitely out of here, amazing sex or no amazing sex.

“Tell me how this resort got started.” She had to find some common ground to defuse whatever was going on.

Emmett tilted his chair, balancing it on the back legs. “How familiar are you with Prohibition?”

Abigail hadn’t expected a question like that. “Well, let’s see. I think it refers mainly to the twenties, and it was a colossal failure because people either made their own bathtub gin or illegally imported rum.”

Emmett nodded, a gleam in his eye. “Very good. The Prohibition era in the USA ran from 1920 to 1933. During that time, Chicago became notorious for organized crime distributing bootlegged alcohol. The Eighteenth Amendment and the Volstead Act mandated the ban, but the ratified Twenty-First Amendment repealed this ban on December fifth, 1933.”

Abigail laughed. “You sound like an encyclopedia.”

“More like Google,” said Zach, his voice filled with sarcasm.

“Why did you ask me about Prohibition, Emmett?”

“This resort started during that era.”

She rested her hands under her chin. “You’re kidding. Did you have illegal booze here? Did gangsters visit?”

This time it was Zach who laughed, handing Abigail her drink as their waiter arrived. “You make it all sound much more glamorous than it was.”

Emmett shot him a sharp look, but it was gone so quickly she thought she must have imagined it. She took a sip of the frothy liquid, humming softly as it filled her stomach with warmth and spices.

“This is wonderful. Thanks for the suggestion, Zach. But now I want to know more about this place. Who exactly was Lilith, and why is the resort named after her?”

Zach cleared his throat. “What if we told you she was the girlfriend of one of those gangsters you asked about, and this place once boasted the largest speakeasy north of Chicago?”

Abigail’s eyes widened. “Really?”

He nodded, flicking a quick glance toward Emmett before continuing. “Al Capone was a guest here.”

Abigail took several more sips, eyeing both men. “I think you two are teasing me.”

Zach put up his hands. “All true. I swear it. Ask Emmett.”

Emmett set his chair back down on all four legs. “We were rebels before our time, Abigail.”

“How are the two of you related?”

“Cousins,” said both, at the same time.

She drained her glass, laughing again. Either the rum was going to her head too quickly or she was imagining the way everything in the room seemed to have faded into the background. Emmett’s eyes, ice blue and luminous, gazed at her from across the table. She was acutely aware of Zach’s scent, homey and comforting.

“Everyone is a cousin?”

“If you go back far enough, we’re all related,” said Emmett.

“One more?” Zach pointed to her empty glass.

“If I say no, you’ll just convince me to have one anyway.”

Zach chuckled. “You know me so well.”

When their food arrived, Abigail ate slowly this time, savoring the butter and garlic in her pasta. “Your chef is a genius.”

“We think so, too,” said Zach.

“I’ve never tasted food this good.”

“One of our many secrets,” said Emmett, winking.

The two talked Abigail into splitting dessert with them. As she sunk her spoon into the mounds of vanilla bean ice cream and caramel, a sudden wish that she didn’t have to return to Duluth stole over her. Its intensity almost frightened her, because it wasn’t the first time in her life she wished she could escape her life. One of the reasons she’d attended college over two hundred miles away was to do just that, but in reality, two thousand miles wouldn’t have been far enough.

The power these two men held over her, with their stories of illegal booze and gangsters, was like something out of a movie. No wonder Sharon had raved about this place for months. But how did they do it? The nagging thought that something wasn’t quite right here wouldn’t leave her, and the more she tried to push it away, the stronger it became.

On the heels of that thought followed the next logical question. What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she simply relax and enjoy herself? She had to analyze everything to death, and she was suspicious of everyone. Even telling herself she ought to be after what Malcolm had put her through didn’t justify it. She’d been that way before Malcolm had pursued her.

“Abigail, you’re far away again.” Emmett’s voice snapped her back to the present.

“Probably a sugar crash,” said Zach, pushing away the remains of their dessert. “This thing should come with a warning label.”

Abigail stood. “I think I need to get some air.”

“We’ll walk with you,” said Zach, rising.

She shook her head. “Not tonight. I have some things to think about.” The twin looks of concern and hurt on their faces nearly made her laugh. “Guys, relax. I’m not upset or anything. I just need to be alone with my thoughts for a while. Okay?”

A look passed between them she couldn’t interpret.

“There’s a lighted walking trail right outside the east entrance,” said Zach, “but you’ll want to go back to your room first and retrieve your coat.”

“I’ll make sure to do that.”

“If you change your mind or you need anything from either of us, ask Luis,” said Emmett. “He’s at the front desk tonight, and he’ll know how to find us.”

After assuring them she would, she left the dining room. Before she could change her mind and invite both of them to her room, she headed for the nearest elevator.

The torches lining the walking trail reminded Abigail of her sleigh ride with Zach. She spotted Gregory with two different women than he’d been with in the hot tub. He winked at her as he passed, one arm around the shoulder of each woman. She’d hoped to have the outdoors to herself on such a cold night, but it seemed no one minded the freezing temperatures.

She counted no less than twenty people within five minutes, so finally gave up and went back inside. While passing the front desk, she briefly considered asking Luis to call Tiffany, but decided that wasn’t fair. The girl deserved her time off. She could put together a costume in the morning.

Wandering down a corridor she hadn’t yet explored, she came across several locked doors. A housekeeping cart was parked outside the door at the end, which was ajar. Abigail peeked inside, but the room was empty. When she entered it, she inhaled the scent of old books and leather.

Flipping on the nearest light switch, she was delighted to find she’d stumbled into a library. Dark wooden bookshelves lined the walls, without an empty space on any of them. The room boasted several leather chairs and a matching sofa, a table next to each chair, and lamps that reminded her of the ones in the conference rooms at the firm. There was another door on the opposite side of the room.

Intrigued, she wandered over to the nearest bookshelf. She ran a finger along the spines at random, then opened one, shocked to discover a copyright date of 1748. She closed the book and looked at the cover. Could this really be a copy of
Fanny Hill
?

She scanned the titles more carefully and found
Bijoux Indiscrets
from 1747, as well as
The Lifted Curtain or Laura’s Education
and
Les Liaisons Dangereuses.

“Impossible,” she whispered, walking along the shelves and reading the titles. There was erotic literature from every era, up to the present day. “They’re obsessed with smut.”

Sharon’s words came back to her. She’d been telling the truth, and she had probably only scratched the surface. But where had they found books over two hundred years old? And why did they keep them in a library anyone could wander into? Weren’t they afraid of them being stolen? Some of these probably belonged in a museum. Most of the books in this room were surely out of print.

She crossed the room to another bookshelf and glanced at the large bound books. These weren’t novels. They appeared to be scrapbooks. She picked one at random, half expecting it to contain naked pictures of Emmett or Zach.

Taking a seat in the nearest chair, she opened the book and read the place card glued to the inside:
New Year’s Eve Ball 1946
. Abigail turned the pages, glancing at the black-and-white photographs. Most were grainy but still clear enough to make out details.

Several people were dressed as animals. She spotted a couple of leopards and several cats, complete with whiskered masks. Most of the women were dressed in corsets and shorts, their legs covered in tights or stockings, and their feet in pumps or short boots. Whoever had taken the photos caught a number of candid shots, including a man dressed as a leopard with his paws covering the breasts of a masked woman.

The last few pages featured photos separated by another place card that read
Unmasked!
Faces smiled into the camera, but a few pictures were of couples locked in a hot kiss. As Abigail flipped to the last page, one photograph in particular caught her eye. It showed twelve unmasked men, six standing and the other six kneeling in front, all dressed as animals. Flanking the back row were two men who looked to be a bit older than the others, who looked to be roughly the same age as Emmett and Zach.

Someone had written names in a neat script under the photo. As Abigail read them, her heart raced and a rushing wind sound took up residence in her head.

Back row: Leonard, Sterling, Blade, Cristian, Hugh, Andras.

Front row: Gregory, Demetrius, Reeve, Nikolas, Emmett, Zachary.

Abigail nearly dropped the book. “What the fuck?” she whispered, reading the script again.

Gregory, Reeve, Nikolas.
The same Gregory she’d met in the hot tub the day before? The Reeve and Niko Emmet had mentioned?

Emmett, Zachary.
The same Emmett and Zach she’d made love to?

“Not possible.”

Snatches of conversation with Emmett in the meditation room came back to her.

“Another owner?”

“Yes. There are six of us.”

“Are you all related?”

“In one way or another.”

“Oh my God…”

She forced herself to scan the smiling faces of the men, but she needed a magnifying glass to really see their features. After she placed the book on the table next to her, she started opening drawers in the table and searching among the bookshelves.

Voices floated down the hall. Abigail stood still and listened as a man with a Hispanic accent admonished someone for leaving the cart in the hallway, and asked if the person had locked all the doors before leaving the area unattended.

“Shit,” hissed Abigail. She looked around for a place to hide. Nothing. She sprinted across the room and tried the other door, then breathed a sigh of relief when it opened. As she closed it behind her, she remembered she’d left the overhead lights on and the scrapbook on a table, but it was too late. Voices on the other side of the door told her two people had entered the library.