Page 6 of Chandelier Sin
“I asked you a question,” I said sternly.
“Eve.”
“Of course it is.”
“How do you mean?”
I lowered my gaze. “You’re sin incarnate.”
“And what does that make you?”
“Beyond redemption.”
“Are you with someone tonight?”
“No, I’m merely exploring the darkest delicacies and offering my opinion on how they measure up.”
“Careful, we don’t want to see you making a wrong turn, Atticus.”
The hair on my nape prickled. “Sounds like a threat.”
Eve turned toward the stairs, taking the first step, pausing as though to offer the last word. Again, she moved with divine elegance, as though every measured step conveyed a mysterious message.
She continued up the stairs to the bar, leaving me with nothing but the lingering scent of her.
Fuck.
Why were the ones I craved unavailable? Complicated women with complicated lives.
I knew the answer.
To them, I was merely a fun fling, a way to get over their ex or to get back at them. And nothing more.
I gave them what they craved and then withdrew. A lonely existence for me but I kind of savored the solitude.
Hanging my head, I questioned whether an apology was called for, or maybe I could just fuck her in lieu of having to say it.
Ascending the stone steps and reentering the bar, I considered how she’d respond to either option.
Her act of kissing me first made me believe her marriage wasunhappy. He’d sent her off naked for a bottle of champagne to ridicule her.
That was my take.
Her pride had remained intact and in fact she’d reveled in my attention and almost succumbed. Her way of getting back at the man who’d punished her.
I pulled my mask down over my face. This devilish persona hinted at what to expect if you spent time in my orbit.
I should go find the others.
Jake and Greyson were supposed to meet me in the great hall, the one with a glass walled key chamber where the entertainment could be observed but not personally experienced. We’d planned to suss out the sinister sessions in there.
The door at the other end of the bar closed, proving Eve had gone that way. Instinctively, I strode toward the door. Once through, I paused to peer down a long hallway, seeing no one.
She was just here.
I continued to explore, opening doors along the hallway, discovering nothing but empty rooms.
I mulled over how stalking her might be construed, but a bottle of Jeroboam of Dom Pérignon promised the best kind of party.
