Page 35 of A Royally Fake French Menage
He wouldn’t thank me for that trauma.
Leaning down, I brushed my lips across the top of her head.She’s so fucking fragile.
“Shall we discover the service entrance? I’ve found I’m rather good at locating those.” I threw on an English accent that might have been a fraction better than my American one.
Genie winced. “You’re an amazing lover and possibly a better bodyguard. But don’t quit your day job to become a spy, Jacques.”
I chose not to take offense at that remark. “As that lady says. Shall we?”
I held out a hand and directed her down a smallish alley way where I'd spotted black and white uniformed personnelcarrying food trays and laundry bags earlier. One was smoking, which left me believing we’d find an extra entrance along this route. Cigarette breaks were hastily stolen and highly coveted, especially in high end hospitality.
Genie let me lead her along the narrow alley without complaint. I smiled at that. Many girls of her status would be sure to raise hell just for being taken out of the limelight. But just like Barclay who needed a few hours to himself, I understood her need to both be here, make an appearance and leave as quickly as possible.
And Barclay was paying Bennett handsomely, I was certain, for the privilege of not detaining Genie any longer this afternoon, or being accosted by her absentee mother.
“Here we are.” I sped through a swarm of gape mouthed staff to find a door hidden behind a cloud of smoke.
Genie ducked beneath my arm, mumbled her thanks to the gawking group, and disappeared into the darkened hallway beyond. I took two steps and found myself face to face with Beau Bennett. He pressed my back against the bricked wall at the side of the hotel that hosted the event.
A thickly muscled chest pressed to mine, arched lips brushing my cheek as he spoke. The other man, around Barclay’s age, I assumed, stood as tall as me. Hands gripped my arms hard in warning not to move or make a sound.
I didn’t want to fight him, only to not alert the crowd around us until I needed them to know I required their flight or alarm.
Those sensual lips brushed my skin once more. “Tell your girl that her mother isn’t worth the effort. She tried to con me twice and steal from me at least once in the space of ten minutes. I’m still counting my pocket change,” he murmured ruefully.
“Is that so?” I wasn't surprised as I levered a fraction of a breath’s space between us. “Is that all you've discovered?” I kept my voice low and hard.No freebies from me, college boy.Neither his wealth, position nor his apparent strength meant anything to me.
The only interesting thing about him was the fact that his body pressed to mine, my cock apparently seized to respond. An action I hated as I kept myself celibate for my lord, and now, Genie. But not only did my body react to his; beau’s cock pressed to my hip, hard and thick.
“Aren’t you taken?” I said out of turn, surprise lacing my voice.
“Very much so," he whispered back, his voice low and guttural. “Not in my control, I'm afraid."
Suddenly I understood Barclay’s fear of the man. Not only did he have power in wealth and status to rival my lord’s own, but in a sexual, dominant sense.
“What can you tell me about Grace?” I elected to ignore the man’s sexual proclivities in favor of gaining more information on the name I’d heard Genie address her mother with earlier in the night.
“That she is broke. Flat out with not a dime to her name. Count it out in popcorn kernels, pennies or pence. She’s skint. And she’s pulling in favors from everywhere but she’s been doing it for a while so there's not much left. Tonight’s con is to get people to give to the charity she runs. A charity which will help people who are in need, financially. Or in this case, just one. She’ll take the money and line her own coffers with them. Short of calling the police, there is little we can do. Unless you want to spend the night with your new girlfriend explaining to the London Bobbies why her mother is intent on defrauding the Brit’s best and wealthiest this evening."
With that little pre rehearsed speech completed, Beau Bennett let me go and backed down a step.
I watched him, leaning back against the wall and made no indication I was ready to move. “I can see why she wants you.”
Beau’s eyes darkened. “Genie?” His breath hitched and his hands slid into his pockets too fast.
I let the faintest smile tilt the corners of my lips. “Your little Toy.”
Beau Bennet wasn’t the only one with a cache of information sources to pull from. Best? I hadn’t had to ask either Genie or Barclay. From the pretty share of puce that suffused his cheeks, he damn well knew it.
Genie popped her head out of the staff entrance to the hotel. “Are you coming? Hi, Beau.” She gave him a little wave, but her stunning eyes were for me. “I found a fountain. Swim?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
The sort I found too addictive to ignore.
I reached for her hand, pulling her out of the shadows and straight into my chest. “You play, I’ll film. It doesn't seem right to leave Barclay at home and not be included now, does it?” I laced my voice with innuendo.
I meant every single word, but I also intended for our conversation to be overheard.
Her infectious giggles left me rock hard. Fuck, I couldn’t control myself around her. Was this how Barclay felt all the fucking time?” I didn’t look back as I let Genie tow me into the bowels of the hotel. The door shut behind me with only the slightest hesitation, as though someone caught it and stepped in behind us.
