Snorting, I grinned. “Nope.”
The tow truck took its sweet time, and rather than fuck around with the winch and shit, the big guy, and the other men who were waiting in the car he’d arrived in, helped me lift the Street Glide onto the flatbed of the tow truck. The tow driver didn’t talk to me as he secured the bike, almost like he was afraid to do it. Apparently directions had already been given because I watched him drive away with my baby, not very pleased with the situation.
“Nothing will happen to it, Mr. Br—Mr. Tanner.”
I glanced at the big guy, probably a guard like they sometimes had on the doors at the Courtesan. “You sure?”
He didn’t answer, and instead gestured toward his car. I ended up riding squeezed in the middle of the back seat between two broad-shouldered dudes who couldn’t help but jostle me, no matter how much I curled in on myself, and by the time we came to a stop, I was ready to leap out. I hated being boxed in. The driver parked the car directly in front of a brownstone building that was okay, but didn’t give off the feeling of glamor that the Courtesan did. If this was the Exotic Virtue that Forrest always talked about, they must be trying to blend in, and it was working.
I climbed out onto the sidewalk, and Rourke was there glancing at his watch.
“I’m really sorry.”
He glared at me in a way that had me taking a step away from him, but I bounced off the guard at my back.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t—didn’t….” My fists clenched. Obviously I didn’t fucking mean to break down.The bike.The bike didn’t mean to break down.
“Perhaps next time—no, there won’t be a next time. Do not take off with Forrest on a motorcycle ever again, especially not before it’s properly inspected.”
For a few seconds I saw red, but I figured it would be a real bad look to belt my brother’s boyfriend on his perfect fucking jaw. “I did check her over. Shit happens.”
He glared some more, his eyebrows jumping and then settling back in place. Rourke nodded to a man who walked past us, and I caught him out of the corner of my eye. He was good-looking with short, tastefully messy curly brown hair and big brown eyes.Really nice lips, too.They curled into a smile and he slyly winked at me, almost as if he wasn’t supposed to do that, but did anyway. My stomach jumped with a warm spark, but he was already inside and gone before I got myself together again. About that time, I realized Rourke was staring at me.
“What Forrest mentioned earlier.” He stepped closer and leaned in, bringing the smell of a crisp cologne with him. “You with one of the whores. Was that your idea?” His tone was clipped, and I could read nothing in it. I didn’t know if he was mad or not. I stared at him and decided to go with the truth. I shook my head.
Rourke actually laughed. “I’ll talk to him about it.”
“No,” I said quickly, almost surprising myself. He’d been in the process of turning toward the front door, and stopped and looked at me expectantly. My stomach tumbled and my hands were sweating. I unclenched them. “I mean… I might as well. Forrest thinks it’s a good idea.” My stomach dropped all the way to the center of the earth and took a long time bouncing back as Rourke stared at me.
“Fair enough.” He gave me a real smile and gestured toward the front door. “Come along, then.” He turned and walked inside, and I had to admire his wide shoulders and the way his strong back narrowed at his waist.
When we were through the front doors, and I’d awkwardly nodded at a well-dressed guy manning the desk to our right—who waved and seemed to think he knew me—I gulped because I definitely didn’t feel like I belonged here in the Virtue. The Courtesan was fancy, and this was nice, too, but there was a different vibe here. The vast open space of the entrance area I stood in took me by surprise. Stone pillars soared to the ceiling in an unexpected way, given the outside of the building. The bar across from the doors seemed busy with people who were in a hurry, unlike the low-key vibe I’d expected. Weren’t people here to fuck and have a good time? Everyone in New York City seemed like they were in a strange hurry, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
Rourke must have seen someone he wanted to talk to because he headed toward the bar, and I trailed after him. Rourke’s phone rang and he sighed as he pulled it out. “Stay here for a moment, please.” He left me at the bar and went and cornered a redhead who was on a stool at the other end. I shook my head no at the bartender before he got anywhere near me and ended up standing awkwardly, staring at my hand on the glossy dark wood where I’d rested it. I rubbed my thumb across the smooth, cool surface.
“This is a new look for ya. Still good,” someone said from behind me in a melodic Irish accent that sent a shiver down my spine. I turned and brushed my hair off my forehead, stilling when I realized it was the man who’d stared at me outside. My face heated. His lips were dusky pink and seemed like they would be so soft, just looking at them made me want to touch him.
“I—”
“Good to see you,” Rourke broke in as he headed back. He held out his hand for the man and they stepped a few feet away to lean their heads together and talk about something. That was familiar from the clubhouse, too. King was often having little meetings with people right in the middle of the chaos going on around him. Shaking my head slightly to attempt to get King out of it, I tried not to stare at Rourke and the man I assumed he knew well, but that guy with him was hard to look away from. Rourke smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Yes, that’s a nice room. Close to the pool. Okay, I’m glad you’re taken care of, but I have to go.” He gestured at me, and the other man’s eyes sparkled with good humor.
“I’d be in a hurry too.” He smirked and stared directly at me.
My entire body flushed warm from my stomach up to my chest, and I glanced away from him as Rourke rested a hand on my shoulder and used it to guide me out of the bar area. We went up a grand staircase along the wall to the left of the entrance and took it all the way to the third floor. We passed a man in the hallway with a perfectly symmetrical, pointed face and curved lips. I’d never seen someone so oddly flawless. His wet short dark hair was combed straight back and made his soft features seem slightly stern as he blew me a kiss. The gesture should have been funny, but it didn’t seem like he was very nice. I frowned at him, and he gave me a weird look before we were by him.
“Friend of Forrest’s?” I asked, and Rourke laughed.
“In a manner of speaking. I think they enjoy despising each other.”
Finally he came to a stop in front of an elegant wooden door and pushed it open. On the other side there was a delighted yelp.
“You’re here! Oh, I wanted to take you through downstairs, but there will be plenty of time for that. We have a pool here, did you know? Of course you don’t know.” Forrest spoke rapidly, full-steam-ahead, and reached out to grab my hand, tugging me inside. Had he been standing near the door waiting for us, or was it a happy accident that he’d been right here?
In the middle of the room, set up away from the massive bed, was a round table with a white cloth on it, and there were plates of food covered with silver toppers, the way I’d only ever seen with room service in movies. The white walls seemed to be closing in on me, and then Forrest tugged me toward the table. On the dresser across the room little glass roses were lined up in a row, almost as if they were prize possessions, even though I was sure they were tourist-trap crap. Were those Forrest’s? Did he like those types of things?
“This is my favorite. I ordered as soon as Rourke went out to wait for you,” he said, pulling out a chair and then urging me none too gently onto the cushioned seat. “I bet it will be yours too.”
Rourke stood to the side of us with his hands stuffed into his suit pants, and I sent him a pleading glance, but he only shook his head at me with a smile. Right, he wouldn’t be saving me from my own brother.
