Page 6 of Queen of Madness

Catching her soft hand in mine, a spark lights up my fingertips, but when I open my mouth to tell her just how luxurious she feels, a new visitor entering the bar in the door directly behind her steals my attention. At the same moment, Shi chuckles from across the table. “Duty calls.”

I drop the girl’s hand, an apologetic smile tilting my mouth. “The bill please, Harlow.”

Her shoulders drop slightly, but she does well to keep her face customer friendly. “Of course, be right back.”

“Leave your number on the tip receipt.” Shi smirks.

Though partially reluctant, I nod before focusing on what distracted me in the first place. He’s well over six feet, suntanned skin, a strip of black ink creeping onto his neck from under a tight ass long-sleeve shirt, and muscles I could hang from. He’s not too big, though. He could definitely still scratch his back without the bulk stopping him, but he’s stacked with just enough mass, my mouth waters. His jaw is sharp lines and perfectly structured, leaving me to wonder how the fuck I’ve never seen him before.

No way we’d get this lucky with a tourist wandering inside this bar.

He takes a heavy step toward the bar, his dark brown boots slamming into the wood floor beneath him. I note how his dark-green eyes flicker around, almost as if he’s searching for someone. That makes more sense.

Shi purrs beside me. “He’s perfect.”

I nod again, running my tongue along my top lip. He is, quite literally, everything that embodies what Onyx prefers in her guards. Well, not the regular kind, but her personal ones, the ones that she calls in the middle of the night. “If he’s meeting someone here, we should get to him first.”

“Agreed,” Shi murmurs, before her lazy gaze slides to me.

“How do I look?” I purse my lips, fluffing up my wild curls. My torn AC/DC shirt slouching off my shoulders hides my breasts, but I have a strange inkling tickling my ear that I won’t need to seduce him. No…

There’s something different about this one. He’s got a darkness slithering around him, waiting for the opportunity to claim him, and I can tell he’s becoming tired of keeping it at bay.

Curious.

“Go on. Before you lose him.”

“When have I ever—you know what? Don’t answer that.” I hop up and elaborately sashay toward the bar, flopping down next to him. I somehow manage to bump into the person on the other side of me who silently curses at his now spilled drink. Silly me.

Somehow, over the scent of liquor and stale peanuts, I catch a whiff of his cedar scent. It’s as if he’s bottled up a piece of the woods with a slice of the sun and put it in his aftershave.

I perch one elbow on the bar top, wincing when it makes contact with the sticky surface. He doesn’t turn his head, but his eyes flash in my direction and I see the flecks of gold hidden inside his dark-jade eyes. It’s as if spotting treasure in the depths of Lago di Carezza.

Oh, she’s going to like this one. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

The corners of his lips twitch, but he doesn’t commit to the grin playing there and instead keeps his gaze trained at the bartender. Still, he entertains me. “Why?”

His voice is rugged, almost as if he has a frog in his throat, but when he thanks the bartender for his drink, I realize it’s natural. I wonder vaguely if he’s a growler.

“You wouldn’t happen to be waiting on someone, would you?”

He sighs heavily through his nose, his shoulders dropping an inch before he takes a quick sip of his drink. “I was supposed to. Ran a little late, and I guess she didn’t want to wait.”

She.Hmm.

I push the stray hair from my shoulder, twirling to put my back at the bar. “Well, it’s rude to keep a woman waiting, don’t you know?”

From my periphery, I see him down the rest of his drink. “Don’t I. But I had an interview. It took a little longer than I thought.”

“An interview for what? Construction?” I twirl around, giving his outfit a once-over as if it’s the first time I’ve noticed it.

Up close, it’s easy to see the black ink peeking from the top of his Henley. It’s something of the leaf variety, perhaps a part of a tree. The muscles I saw from my end of the bar are much more defined than I initially thought, and his jaw is much sharper. The darkness is easier to see too. It creeps around the edges of his eyes, taking whatever softness was once there and turning them hard, impenetrable even.

He runs a hand through his thick dark hair. “Nah. Just some bouncer gig.”

How perfect. “Ah. Well, did you at least get the job?”

The stranger grins, lifting his empty glass toward the bartender. “They said the girls working inside might become too distracted.”

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