Page 29 of High Sea Seduction

I also happen to know firsthand what those hands can do to my body. Which is another huge tick in his favor.

But then there are the danger signs. The ones that scream at me to keep my distance. The ones that warn me not to scratch the surface because I’ll be annihilated by what I find beneath.

Danger signs I can’t seem to stop myself from sliding toward…

The bartender slides the shot across. I down it in one go, and he raises the bottle and says something in French I don’t understand. I nod anyway and indicate the glass. He refills and I drink, letting the sharp taste and burn slide down my throat.

When he raises the bottle again, I shake my head. I plan on getting drunk tonight but not until I’ve done a little recon for my project and taken a few necessary notes.

I start to turn just as someone nudges me.

I glance over my shoulder and see Henri, his charming grin trying a little too hard. “Mademoiselle Benson, I am glad you made it. I have been watching out for you.” He uses hand signals as he speaks, as if I don’t understand the accented English spilling from his mouth. “You look amazing!” His gaze conducts an appreciative head-to-toe assessment before he looks back up with eager puppy dog eyes.

I summon a smile I’m far from feeling. “Thank you, and call me Keely.”

He leans forward, and I’m engulfed in Hugo Boss aftershave as he says into my ear, “Can I buy you a drink?”

I shake my head. One of my many rules is to never let a guy I don’t know buy me drinks. “I’m good for now, thanks.” I mentally roll my eyes when he doesn’t move back. “I was about to go check out the VIP cubes upstairs.”

He nods eagerly. “I will come with you.”

I shrug. “Sure, why not?” Bringing him with me will keep other guys from hitting on me. Plus, he’s still as easy on the eyes as he’d been earlier this afternoon, despite the too-busy leather jacket he’s wearing. He’s also a perfect candidate for taking my mind off my problems should I decide to go ahead with using him.

He takes my hand and guides me through the throng of people. We ascend black fiberglass stairs to a set of double doors roped off with red hooks and manned by two burly bouncers. They’re built like professional wrestlers, one fair-haired, the other ebony dark.

Henri rattles off a torrent of French, but the black bouncer stares at him with bored, dead eyes. Henri glances at me, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his collar. He rattles off an ever-faster torrent. The bouncer looks at me, then back at him and utters a single word. “Non.”

I take pity on Henri and fish the VIP card from my clutch. I wave it in front of the fair-haired one and his demeanor alters. “Welcome, Miss Benson, we’ve been expecting you.”

They part the doors and I start walking, only to stop when I hear a scuffle behind me.

The fair-haired bouncer is restraining Henri. Sighing, I retrace my steps. “It’s okay, he’s with me.”

“Sorry, Miss Benson. The man said you were to come in alone.”

My nape tingles as I ask, “What man?”

“He’s in Room 10. He said I was to bring you to him when you came up. And that you were not to be accompanied by anyone else.”

“Did he?” I murmur. “We’ll see about that.” I tell myself it’s annoyance fizzing through me, but my escalating excitement makes a mockery of my feelings. To Henri, I say, “Sorry about this. Maybe I’ll find you when I come back down?” I won’t, but I don’t see a need to be a bitch about it.

He looks crestfallen but nods eagerly as I turn away. The second bouncer points down a left corridor and accompanies me as I start walking.

“I can find it on my own.”

He gives me an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, ma’am, I have my orders.”

I bristle as I march past black mirrored doors, counting off the gold numbering until I reach number 10. I’m seething. And Mason Sinclair is about to be the recipient of my temper.

10

KEELY

I slap my hand against the swing door and, as expected, it gives way to reveal Mason Sinclair. His thickly muscled arms are flung wide on the seat, his gaze on the dance floor below. Since his back is to the door, I can only see the back of his head and shoulders, but immediately my nipples tighten and my pussy clenches with a hunger so fierce, I deeply resent him for the effortless power he seems to have over me.

He doesn’t turn around as I approach, although despite the music thumping from below, the room is quiet enough that he should’ve heard me enter.

“Next time you feel the need to summon me, take a beat and remember serfs and overlords are a thing of the past.” I infuse my voice with bite, even though I’m far too enthralled with the black shirt draping his torso and the lights glinting through his vibrant black hair.

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