Page 13 of Claimed By the Bikers
Thirty minutes of push-ups and sit-ups in my cramped motel room helps, but it doesn’t completely erase the memory of his hands on my body or the way he looked at me like he wanted to eat me and leave no crumbs.
Wolf’s Den is busier tonight, the dinner crowd mixed with early evening drinkers. I check in with Lizzy, who seems relieved to see me.
“Thank God you’re here. We’re slammed, and Garrett’s been asking about you.”
“Asking what?”
“Just when you were coming in. He’s been watching the door for the last hour.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I’m sure he’s just concerned about staffing.”
“Uh-huh.” Lizzy’s knowing look suggests she’s not buying my casual tone. “He’s at his usual booth if you want to say hi.”
I don’t want to say hi. I want to avoid him entirely and pretend last night never happened. But avoiding him would be suspicious, and I can’t afford suspicious.
“I’ll grab my apron first.”
“Sure you will.”
I make my way through the dining room, noting the familiar faces from last night mixed with new customers. Atlas is at his usual position at the end of the bar, and when our eyes meet, he nods slightly. No indication that he knows what happened between me and Garrett, but something in his expression suggests he’s watching me more carefully tonight.
That’s when I see him.
The man in the corner booth is nothing like the photographs in my briefing materials. Those pictures showed someone ordinary, forgettable. The reality is devastating. He’s the last brother of the trio, forty-five years old, with dark hair that looks soft to the touch and a jawline that could cut glass. Sharp green eyes that seem to see everything.
Women cluster around his booth like moths to a flame. A blonde in a tight dress, a brunette with impressive cleavage, and a redhead who keeps touching his arm. He’s charming them all, speaking in what sounds like a French accent that makes my stomach flutter.
Silas Delacroix.
The Bishop brother who was supposed to be out of town for another week. He must have returned early.
His eyes find mine across the crowded room.
Everything else disappears. The noise, the other customers, the weight of my cover story. There’s only him, looking at me with the kind of intensity that makes my heart race for completely unprofessional reasons.
He smirks, slow and devastating, and I realize I’m in serious trouble.
Because if Garrett’s kiss made me question my judgment, Silas’s smile just shattered my control entirely.
5
SILAS
It’slike the world stopped when this beautiful woman entered the room. She moves with a confidence that makes my pulse quicken, completely unaware that she’s captured the attention of every man in the place, including mine.
Mon dieu, she’s stunning.
I watch her check in with Lizzy, the way she smiles at our hostess with genuine warmth.
I try to follow the redhead’s story about her first time in Marseille, but I can’t.
When I look in her direction again, our eyes meet across the crowded space, and I feel that familiar spark of attraction that hasn’t hit me this hard in years. She holds my gaze for exactly three seconds before looking away.
Interesting.
I wait until she’s busy with a table of truckers before slipping away from the ladies at my table and heading toward Atlas’soffice. My brother is hunched over paperwork, a tumbler of whiskey at his elbow despite the early hour.
“Who’s the hottie?” I ask without preamble, settling into the chair across from his desk.
