“Indeed. I haven’t seen you for years, Maxence. Not anywhere.”
That seemed loaded.
Rox looked up from her short-girl stature, watching the men who towered over her. They must feed them growth hormones at that school they all went to. From the heady amount of testosterone swirling among them that Rox swore she could smell, it was probably Brahma bull growth hormone.
Cash turned to her and bent, his hand extended toward the blond man. “Rox, this is The Dom of The Devilhouse. You can call him Sir or Dom.”
Was Cash serious? She had heard about books that dealt with stuff like that but hadn’t read them.
Okay, she hadn’t read very many of them.
Cash stood and spoke to The Dom. “This is Roxanne Neil. She’s with me.”
That last part sounded a little sharp, kind of like the time that Cash had told opposing counsel that he and Rox would not be attending the stripper party.
The Dom bent slightly to shake her hand. For the minute that he looked into her eyes, his dark blue eyes seemed to take in all of her.
She croaked, “Pleased to meet you.”
“And a pleasure to meet you,” The Dom said, still looking straight into her eyes. When she looked into his dark blue eyes, the color brightened to a cobalt shade of blue, almost glowing.
Rox withdrew her hand from his and stepped closer to Cash again, even though she couldn’t seem to look away from The Dom’s stare.
The Dom straightened and turned back to Arthur, breaking their eye contact. “Come with me, gentlemen,” he shot a small, cold smile at her, “and lady. I thought a drink in my office first?”
“Yes, Sir,” Arthur said.
Rox swore that she could hear the capital letter.
She followed the guys through the white-painted hallways and steeled herself for whatever kind of kinky and weird accoutrement that a sex club owner would fill his office with. She sucked in a fortifying breath as she walked through the door, but his office had a conversation grouping of blue couches around a coffee table at the back and a glass-topped desk at the other end. A long, wide window looked out into the night at, Rox assumed, the park area that the driveway had meandered through before cars had dropped them off at the front doors.
Anti-climactic.
She followed Cash to one of the couches and sat beside him, his unbandaged cheek toward her.
He tucked her against his side, curling his strong arm around her.
Any other time, she might have bristled at the possessive move, but The Dom turned back to them and pinned her to the couch with one stare.
She huddled closer to Cash, nearly winding herself around his leg and trim waist.
The Dom sat on the couch opposite them. “Drinks will be here shortly. Casimir, I assume that you’ll want a private room.”
Cash nodded and tightened his arm around Rox.
The Dom continued, “Arthur and Maxence, you have a few minutes before your appointments.”
Arthur grinned.
Maxence twitched in his chair. “I don’t need an appointment tonight.”
The Dom raised one blond eyebrow at him. “She’ll be disappointed that you cancelled.”
Arthur laughed out loud and leaned back in his chair.
The office door opened, and a short woman came in. Her natural hair fuzzed around her head, and she wore the tightest, shortest business skirt suit that Rox had ever seen on a human rather than a fashion doll. She carried a wide tray crowded with glasses and decanters filled with amber or clear liquid.
The Dom glanced up at her. “Thank you, Glenda.”
When she smiled, her dark plum lips opened to reveal white teeth. She set the tray on the coffee table and adjusted her skirt before she turned to leave.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Maxence said, “I can’t.”
“That’s understandable,” The Dom said. His deep voice was as light as Rox had heard it so far, a non-judgmental tone. He leaned forward and poured different liquors into each of the tumblers and one glass of white wine.
Cash took a tumbler for himself and handed her the wine glass. Rox sipped, tasting the sweet note and then caramel finish of a very good wine. Delicious. She gulped half the glass.
“I shouldn’t,” Maxence said to The Dom again.
“That’s up to you,” The Dom said.
“It’s using a person as a plaything, a pawn. I can’t.”
“I don’t think of Mairearad as a pawn or a plaything, and I assure you, you shouldn’t call her that.”
Maxence was sitting on the edge of his chair, holding both his hands open. “But it is. This is all superficial. It’s manipulative. It’s evil.”
“Why don’t you ask Mairearad about what she thinks? I wouldn’t want to speak for her.”
Maxence flinched backward.