“Twenty-five?”
“Yes. Twenty-five. I was hired the day he was born.” She stepped toward a basket sitting on a shelf. “People don’t seek him out for hiskindness.”
Yet, that’s what I’d comefor.
Muriel fished out a black filigree mask, which she tied around my head before ushering me out of the weird closet. “Why don’t you go make up your own mind abouthim?”
When I burst through the curtains, Tristan interrupted whatever discussion he was having with the surly guard. “Perhaps, bringing you inside isn’t such a greatidea.”
“Whynot?”
He slid a mask from the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled it on with the deftness of someone used to wearing them. “Because I’d much rather keep you tomyself.”
“Oh.” I touched the base of my flushing neck, suddenly grateful for the mask ensconcing part of myface.
The brawny guard grunted as he walked to an ornate wooden door so thick that when he opened it the slow, sultry melody inside the room soared out. Tristan offered me his arm, which I was hesitant to take but reminded myself that he’d gotten mein.
And it was just anarm.
Latching on, I entered a room so dark it took my eyes a moment to distinguish anything. And when I did, I snapped my lids shut and lowered my head, certain that what I’d just seen would cost mefeathers.
Perhaps, all ofthem.
Chapter 9
At some point,I opened my eyes so I didn’t step into anything oronanyone. Although I kept my gaze cemented to the glossy parquet, I unfortunately couldn’t shield my ears from the symphony of grunts and moans that overlapped the bewitching melody eddying through theroom.
My heart struck my throat in time with the plucked harp strings accompanying the singer’s chanting. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine myself willingly attending a party where guests were in various states of undress and doing things to each other I’d never even read about in my wickedest romancenovels.
It felt like I’d traveled an entire city block before Tristan stopped walking. A pair of shiny black dress shoes bumped into the pointy tips of my stilettos, reflecting my pale, maskedface.
“Who’s this?” The voice was deeply masculine and deeplyblasé.
“Leigh,” I supplied, still unwilling to lookup.
“And you are herewhy?”
“She has a project for you,” Tristansaid.
A finger curled under my chin and tipped my head up. Although he was masked, I recognized his eyes—dark and rimmed with lashes so long they could curl all the way around mypinky.
My pulse hammered my veins as the twin pools of darkness drank me in. Over the mixture of musk and spice swirling through the room, a new aroma reached my nostrils—mineral and green, like fig leaves after a rainstorm. I breathed in deeply, almost choking on Jarod Adler’sscent.
He must’ve seemed certain I wouldn’t look away, because he lowered his finger. “Who recommended myservices?”
Bodies writhed in my peripheral vision. “Is there somewhere more private we could go to discussthis?”
A corner of his lips twitched. “I don’t take payment inkind.”
Revulsion surged through me. “I’m not aprostitute.”
Although the mask hid his expression, it didn’t conceal the curve of his lips which tempered at my fiery retort. “What’s your lastname?”
“It’s not important.” I didn’t have one. “You wouldn’t know my family anyway. They’re all inAmerica.”
“I don’t clean up messes outside my country’sborders.”
“The job isn’toverseas.”
