Working Stiff:Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1)(49)

He watched them and noted each of them, especially the six men who had  surrounded Maxence as they had entered the terminal. Maxence's security  men focused on the man and tightened into a defensive position.                       
       
           



       

The man in the black suit approached them, his back ramrod straight as  if he were ex-military. "Gentlemen, I am Jeffrey Jackson. I was sent to  escort you this evening."

One of Maxence's men moved forward. He was the smallest of the six of  them and more wiry than stacked. "Hugo Faure. We spoke on the phone."  His accent sounded like a Frenchy kind of Italian.

"Ah," Mr. Jackson said, shaking Faure's hand and looking straight at him. "Very pleased to meet you, sir."

Hugo Faure nodded. "And you as well, sir."

It was kind of weird that they were sir-sirring each other, and Rox got  the impression that something military was passing between them.

Cash stepped forward with his hand out. "I'm Casimir van Amsberg. This  is Rox, Arthur, and Maxence." He nodded to each as he introduced them.

Mr. Jackson shook Cash's hand and nodded at each. "This way."

Jackson led them to three SUVs that were idling in the parking lot.  Maxence waved as his black-suited men cut him out of the herd and  bustled him to one of the waiting cars.

The drive through the city was quick, and Cash rested his arm on the  back of the seat behind her the whole way. She leaned into him, still  wondering what she had gotten herself into.

They arrived at a big, white building that looked like a Southern plantation mansion straight out of Gone with the Wind.

Rox whispered to Cash, "I thought this was a-"

He squeezed her hand, and Rox shut up, even though she was pretty sure that Mr. Jackson knew what the place was, too.

The SUVs let them off at the front door, where upward-facing floodlights lit the columns, windows, and ornate trim.

Mr. Jackson emerged from the driver's seat and tossed the keys to  another black-suited man as he walked around the front of the vehicle,  who then drove off in the SUV and left them at the door.

Rox rubbed her arms in the chilly night air and turned back to the front door.

Another man was standing in the open doorway, lit from the interior  lights behind him and the floodlights outside. He was very tall,  probably six-four again, just like Cash and his school buddies. The new  guy wore a dark blue suit, just like they all had a penchant for dark  suits, but he was pale blond. His hair looked pale gold in the sharp  downward-shining lights, and when he looked up at her, his eyes were  startling, so dark blue that their blueness verged on violet when he  glanced away from her to look at Arthur on the other side of Cash.

There was no kindness in the blond man's eyes when he had looked at her,  just calculation. Rox edged closer to Cash, half-hiding behind him.

Cash walked more quickly down the white hallway, his footsteps muffled  by the thick blue carpet under Rox's feet, and he held out his hand as  he approached. "Hello!"

No name, Rox noted. Usually, Cash led with people's names because he remembered them all.

The blond man took a few steps toward them, hand extended. Even his  smile was so cold that Rox's skin prickled in goosebumps. Not a whit of  warmth reached his eyes.

"Casimir," he said and shook Cash's hand. He touched his own cheek, the  mirror of the side of his face where Cash still had a white bandage  taped over his cheek. "Everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah," Cash said. "No problem."

He nodded and turned to the other two guys. "Arthur, Maxence. Pleasure to see you after so long."

"Yes, it's been far too long," Arthur said, a grin widening his mouth. "Weeks, at least."

"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.

Rox was impressed. This Dom guy would have been a good litigator.

"Indeed," The Dom said, "you've already booked her for this time slot.  It would be impolite to cancel. I suggest you have a drink with her and  ask what she thinks."

"She'll say whatever she thinks I want to hear," Maxence grumbled.

The Dom's blond eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. "I doubt that." A knock rattled the door. "Ah, here she is."