For the second time in less than ten minutes another unwanted emotion sideswiped him. Possessiveness.
Just as he’d trained himself not to trust, he’d trained himself not to become attached. Possessiveness suggested an attachment to something...someone.
Narciso didn’t do attachment. And yet—
‘What happens after your meeting?’
He forced nonchalance into his voice. ‘We return here to indulge in...whatever we please. Tomorrow when the lock down is lifted, we leave.’
CHAPTER SIX
THE REST OF the morning turned out to be a study in how the very rich and influential operated. Having grown up in relative wealth and seen the lengths to which people went to keep what they had, Ruby had imagined she knew how power and influence were wielded.
Watching Narciso Valentino command a room just by walking into it took her education to a whole different level. People’s attitude transformed just by him entering their presence, despite his mask now being back firmly in place.
Although dressed more casually than he’d been last night, he exuded the same authority and attention as he moved from room to room, chatting with other well-heeled guests. The brief time he left her to attend his meeting, Ruby was left with a floundering feeling in her stomach that irritated and shocked her at the same time.
She was finishing her buttered brioche and café Americano when she sensed a gaze on her. Anticipating another of the speculative looks she’d been on the receiving end of since she came downstairs with Narciso, she stemmed her apprehension and raised her head.
The man who’d played against Narciso last night and won thirty million dollars was watching her with stormy grey eyes.
He moved forward and pulled out a chair. ‘May I join you?’ He sat down before she could stop him.
‘Sure. It’s a free country, I think.’
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He steepled his fingers together and stared at her. ‘Where’s my... Where’s your companion?’
‘At a meeting...’ She paused and stared down at his wrist. ‘I thought those smartwatches could tell you where each guest is. Why are you asking me?’
‘Perhaps I just wanted a conversation opener.’
‘Needing an opener would mean you have something specific to discuss with me. I don’t see what that could be.’ Her discomfort grew underneath that unwavering, hostile stare. She started to put her flatware down, thought better of it and hung on to the knife.
His gaze went to it and swung back to hers. ‘You won’t be needing that.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that. Now, can I help you with something?’ As she’d thought last night, there was something vaguely familiar about him. But like every single guest present, his mask was back on and nothing of the rest of his features was enough to pinpoint where she might have seen him before, and she was not going to commit another faux pas by asking him his name.
‘I merely came to offer you a warning. Stay away from The Warlock.’
‘Considering you won over thirty million dollars from him last night, I’d have thought you’d be in a better frame of mind, perhaps even celebrating your huge windfall, not wasting your time casting aspersions on someone you defeated.’