Page 76 of Hell to Pay

49

LILAH

I’d never beento Paris, and I’d definitely never stayed in a hotel as nice as the Mandarin Oriental. By the time we got there I already felt like Alice, fallen down the rabbit hole, not into a magical wonderland but into an alternate universe where I wasn’t broke all the time but instead traveled to Paris via private jet.

The private jet was thanks to the friends — actually Rafe had insisted they werenotfriends, just acquaintances — the Bastards called the Kings, who had lent them the jet to keep us on the DL on the way to Paris.

We still had to go through immigration — even rich people had to do that — but it was harder to track charters than commercial jets, especially when the charters were registered to shell companies.

The Mandarin was gorgeous, a sleek modern complex built almost entirely of glass with landscaped courtyards and sleek furniture that somehow looked both modern and classic.

I waited with Nolan and Jude while Rafe checked us in and we used a special keycard to access a private elevator that only led to the floors with suites. I felt out of place, shabby in my jeans and T-shirt, my hoodie thrown over my arm, but if my reason for coming to Paris had to involve human trafficking, I was at least going to enjoy the hotel.

We stepped off the elevator into an expansive living area, the doors open to a terrace glowing in the afternoon sun. There was a monster TV and a curved sofa that looked like it could easily seat ten people, plus a thick modern carpet on gleaming hardwood floors. Beyond the terrace I could see the city, the tops of buildings old and new somehow looking elegant and perfect side by side.

“Wow,” I said, “this is incredible. Do you always stay in such nice places?”

Jude barked out a laugh. “No.”

“Why this time?” I asked, wandering to the terrace doors and poking my head outside.

“We need anonymity,” Rafe said at the same time Nolan said, “Rafe wanted it to be nice for you.”

I turned around, pressing my lips together to try and keep the smile from my face.

They hung out in the living room waiting for the bellman to bring the bags while I explored the suite, claiming one of the four bedrooms, all with attached en suite bathrooms with miles of beautiful veined marble, walk-in showers, and deep soaking tubs.

My room had doors that opened onto the terrace. I opened them to let in the fresh air and the sound of the city and fell back onto the bed with a sigh. The flight had been super comfortable thanks to the jet’s deep leather seats, but I was still tired, ready for a bath and a nap.

I heard movement by the door and looked up to see Jude watching me from the doorway.

“Is it okay if I take this room?” I asked.

“You want it, it’s yours.”

I smiled. “Thanks for making sure I could have my own room.”

I liked — loved — being with the Bastards. I hadn’t had a chance to sleep with them together yet, but I’d been fantasizing about it ever since Rafe had fucked me in the gym the week before. Fucking Rafe had been like flying through a hurricane.

But the three of them together? That would be one epic storm.

I waited, half expecting the echo of the Sinner’s Prayer, but my mind was silent.

As much as I loved being with the Bastards, I liked having my own space, and I loved that the Bastards never made me feel crowded, even while I knew they were always there if I needed — or wanted — them.

“That was all Rafe,” Jude said. “He booked it.”

I wasn’t as surprised as I should have been. I’d been pissed with Rafe when he’d been trying to buy me off with his gifts — the laptop, the dresses in Greece, the knife — but that had been because it was a cop-out. The gifts themselves had been thoughtful, proof he wasn’t some kind of tin man without a heart.

So yeah, it didn’t surprise me that Rafe somehow knew I’d want a room of my own.

“It’s nice,” I said.

Jude cocked an eyebrow and I suddenly had the urge to pull him into the room, shut the door, tug him down on top of me on the super luxe mattress.

“You saying you’re sick of us, boss?” he asked.

“Never.” It scared the shit out of me that I meant it. “Do I have time for a bath?”

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