Page 74 of Lovely Venom

“Oh, Cristian.” Jolie beams at me. “This is wonderful.”

Angelo skewers me with a look that indicates he wants me to play along—and also that he finds this really fucking funny.

“Enjoy yourselves.” He smirks. “I have something else planned for Bastien.”

“Oh?” Bastien eyes him curiously.

Angelo steers him toward another lounge on the opposite side of the roof. “How do you feel about vintage cognac?”

As they drift out of sight, I silently curse my brother and pull out a chair for Jolie.

She eyes the lounge seating instead and takes it upon herself to sit there.

“Come join me.” She pats the space beside her. “There’s no need to be so formal.”

I sit down, maintaining more distance than she’d probably like. A moment later, a server appears to pour us a glass of wine and serve Jolie dessert.

“It’s such a lovely night.” Jolie sighs. “You truly have a little piece of heaven up here. I can see why the club is named after Eden.”

I nod, though my only thought is, right now, it feels like hell.

It isn’t logical. There’s nothing wrong with Jolie. She would make any man in my position a good wife. But the appeal of choosing just anyone to fill that role has lost its shine. I think Jolie recognizes that, but she isn’t giving up without a fight.

As the night wears on, she makes her intentions clear. Her words take on a provocative lilt and a fire sparks in her gaze as she emboldens herself by closing the distance between us.

I think her father has underestimated her, but so have I.

This isn’t a passive decision for her. She’s cunning, perceptive, and she knows what she wants.

After a bottle of wine, she puts all her cards on the table.

Turning to face me, she tucks her legs beneath her and reaches out to touch my arm.

“I can see you still have some reservations about this arrangement,” she says softly. “And I’d like to put your mind at ease.”

When I don’t respond, she goes on to explain herself.

“A man like you needs a woman who brings you peace after a long day. Someone who understands how many demands you have already, without making herself another one.”

She skims her fingers over my tie, and I suppress my irritation when she traces a slow path down the length of my chest.

As she continues to talk, I weigh how quickly negotiations will end when I reject her.

“A true queen knows when to smile, when to speak, and when to act.” She peers up at me from beneath her lashes. “And most importantly, she knows how to treat her king when he comes home to his castle.”

She circles the button of my trousers, and there’s no question what she’s offering. But when she tries to slide her hand lower, I catch her by the wrist.

“You should be with someone who can give you what you want,” I clip out. “That isn’t me.”

Her smile falters, but she recovers quickly. “I think in time you’ll see you can give me exactly what I want, and I can wait. I’m a patient woman.”

I release her, and her gaze drifts to a familiar figure across the terrace.

“When you’ve tired of your other distractions, you know where to find me.”

16

CHANTEL