“You can leave your bag in the car.” He hopped out, then came around to my side. As he opened my door, he said, “Can I give you a word ofadvice?”
Scooting out, I noddedtentatively.
“Don’t get attached. Leeches don’t encounter a pleasant fate inLa Cour desDémons.”
Shock sank into my veins. “Are you calling me aleech?”
“Are women anything else? You suck our money, our energy, and, if we’re lucky, our cocks.” He slammed the door shut, and the sound made mejump.
Seventy-eight. . . His number, which had probably increased since Layla’s, swam across his tanned face and glacial blue eyes. Suddenly, I could picture him injuring one of mypeers.
“You had a bad example, I get that. But it doesn’t give you the right to badmouth me or mygender.”
“I’m just telling it like it is,Feather.”
“Stop calling methat!”
“Doesn’t bother you when Jarod saysit.”
“You’re not Jarod.”You’re the watch thief who got off scot-free and just called me aleech.
He cranked up his chin. “I think I misjudgedyou.”
My heart thumped. Was he going to apologize? Not that his apology would erase his insult. I waited, but all he did was flash me another grin before gesturing toward a set of porte-cochère decorated with metalgrommets.
I trailed him inside a courtyard that smelled of burning oil and orange blossom, toward outsized white lattice doors. Sitar music echoed off the sapphire tiles that lined every wall in the spa’sentryway.
A woman dressed in a midriff-baring gauzy outfit greeted Tristan with a kiss on both cheeks. “You’re a littlelate. . .”
Did he have an appointmenttoo?
The woman’s gaze slid over to me. Was she going to ask me if I wanted a massage? Even though I’d had some in the past, having accompanied my spa-addicted ex-best friend repeatedly back in New York, I was in absolutely no mood to relax at that moment. At least, not until I spoke withJarod.
Bodies moved in the shadows. I knew Jarod had bodyguards, but I couldn’t get used to their constant presence. Without meaning to, I backed into Tristan, who snuck out his arm and laced it around mywaist.
“Don’t worry about them,” hesaid.
He was right. The person I needed to worry about washim.
As I extricated myself from his grip, I wondered if Jarod was aware of his friend’s shady depths. Probably not if he kept himaround. . .
I understood then, that to truly save Jarod’s soul, he would need to disentangle himself from Tristan and the toxic adoration his second vowed him. Unless I could help Tristan become a betterman.
The glow of colored glass lanterns tinted his silvering hair pink and green and cast squares of light into the eyes he’d trained on me. Not enough, though, to read hismind.
Chapter 43
The dim hallwaywas lined with thick candles dripping wax over the sapphire tiles and casting dancing shadows across thewalls.
When we arrived in front of a door crafted from pure bronze, I finally spoke up. “You should give women another chance, Tristan. They’re not allnefarious.”
Hegrunted.
“If you open yourheart—”
“Then I give someone the power to destroy it. I’m touched by your concern, but not the least bit interested.” I was about to protest when he added, “Jarod and I, we like our lives just the way they are.” He raised his fist and rasped on the metal, and the clangor reverberated inside my chest. “I hope you understand what I’msaying.”
We were greeted by a man with the smoothest head and the densestbeard.
