“Little bird,” he murmurs, and even though he’s a foot away, I can feel his heat as if he’s pressed against me. “I wasn’t seducing them.”
I snort. “Right. It’s a good thing this place is so big. You can host the whole cast for a sleepover.”
He looks amused. He’s enjoying this. “You don’t have to believe me. You can ask them. It was all business. Besides, the runner-up has a thing for Miss Olympus, and both of them have a thing for St. James. If his spies are any good, I’ll bet he sends a helicopter for them within the hour so he can entertain them at Empire for the rest of the night.” He advances on me, and I realize my strategic mistake. With my back to the desk, it’s too easy for him to come close and cut off my escape.
My pulse is wild in my throat.
“As to a sleepover, I’m sure Hamish has offered accommodations to everyone. But the best thing about owning a mansion is keeping your guests well out of your way, in their own separate wing.” He reaches out to toy with a tendril of my hair. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” I lean to the side, dodging him, and he blocks me, trapping me against his desk.
“Tell the truth.” His dark eyes pin me, so I turn my head.
“I’d just hate for you to miss your party,” I lie to the floor.
“Oh, Inara,” He rasps into my ear. “I’m right where I want to be. Fighting with you is better than sex with anyone else.”
Tingles rush over me.
I risk touching him and plant my hands on his chest. He lets me push him back, smirking like he knows I need space to get my thoughts in order.
“Why are you here, little bird?”
Right. I’m here to stop him by sacrificing myself fully. But as much as I want to, I can’t give in too easily. I reach for my anger, the sense of injustice. “I’m here because I saw the news and read the paper. By the time I got to work, three entire murder investigations were shut down.”
His expression shutters. He’s not my mystery dom. He’s Rex Roy, billionaire above the law. “And?”
I knew this wouldn’t be easy. I square off with him to show him I’m here to fight. “You’ve crossed a line.”
* * *
Rex
“You did it.”She bares her teeth at me, her eyes sparking. “You interfered with an investigation.”
Does she know how glorious she looks, challenging me? I want to wrap her hair around my fist, drag her to my dungeon, and punish her for mouthing off to me. I want to gag her, flog her until her back is painted red. Put her on her knees, chain her to the floor, and fuck her mouth whenever the fancy takes me.
Instead, I half turn away to freshen my drink. “Allegedly.”
“What?” She glares at me, chest heaving, fists clenched at her sides.
“You can’t prove anything.” I leave my drink on the bar and return to tug her leather jacket down her arms.
She tries to jerk out of my hold. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to pat you down. I need to see if you’re wearing a wire.”
Color flares in her cheeks, but she nods. I have the pleasure of removing her jacket and molding my hands to her back and front, touching her in all the ways I wanted to this morning. She’s not wearing a bra or panties, and I can smell her sex, pungent as the perfume of a freshly opened flower. I let my hand shackle her ankle for a long moment.
She’s not unaffected. The moment I release her, she stumbles back.
“There,” I say, all innocence. “Now we can speak freely.”
“Oh, can we? Are there no cameras in here?” She makes a show of looking around. “Nothing to record your dark deeds? And here I thought you kept watch of everything.”
“As much as I love watching you on camera, some things are better left to memory.”
“And there he is.” She looks at me coldly, like a cop viewing a suspect. “Rex Roy, heir to a fortune. Playboy. Philanthropist. All those people out there, dancing and partying, they have no idea what you really are.”
