What is he doing down here? In The Ivory’s library with him, alone… in the middle of the night… hiding?
The last thing I hear is The Ivory say the nameHarley. As in, he’s speaking to Harley.
Harley Samuels… That’s Rook.
Rook is down here too??
The Ivory tells Rook to go, and he goes, scurrying off, likely back to our side of the mansion. And I suck in a breath…
Because Manuel Blanco is now walking right towards me.
In all the weeks I’ve been coming here, I haven’t seen him for more than a split second, usually striding to and fro, because he’sso busyandimportant.
Eye-roll.
Of course he hasn’t seen me. I can’t allow that. My disguise is fine, objectively. Sure, the guards I’ve had sex with know I’m not female, but they don’t seem affected by it. I’m still Ari, and that’s all that matters.
But as much asIfeel like a different person—or another version of me, I still can’t quite tell—The Ivory would take one look and know it’s me.
No, the next time I come face to face with Manuel Blanco will be when I’m slitting his throat with my father’s knife. I just have to find it first…
But no matter. I know it’s here.
The Ivory stops in front of Velle. The only thing separating us is about three feet of shelf stacked with books. They’re so close I can smell them both…
Velle has a masculine scent; bold, like amber, fiery bourbon, and rich leather. The Ivory’s scent, on the other hand, reminds me of that night… at The Edge.
Mint, burning sandalwood and sweat on trembling flesh. Hungry lips and teeth and a tongue, disarming me while I quivered and he crooned…
“Mmm, soaking wet, baby… Show me…”
“Take a breath, Jonathan,” The Ivory chuckles, pulling me back to the present.
Face flushed and muscles tight, I remember my displeasure, holding absolutely still, watching them through a minuscule sliver of space between books, just low enough that I can see them without them seeing me.
“Jesus… You’re behaving like a housewife who just narrowly avoided being caught cheating with the gardener.” He continues his scoffing snickers while Velle glares at him.
“Yea well… it feels like that,” he grumbles, raking fingers through his hair.
The Ivory pouts.
God, that look makes me want to bite it off… Angrily, not sexually.
Shut up.
“I don’t want him finding out I was here…” Velle breathes.
“Are you ashamed of me?” The Ivory gives Velle this…look.
And now, I wouldn’t be able to breathe if I tried.
What is going on here…?
Are they… fucking??
Velle stammers, “I’m… I don’t…”
“Alright, calm down,” Ivory huffs, shaking his head. “I’m just messing with you, Jonathan. If you’llrecall, weusedto have fun together…”
