Page 33 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

If there was ever a male version of a nymph, it would be him. No man has any business being this magnetic.

My brows furrow. “Twice?” This club must be some magical place where the owners know everyone, because apparently I’ve crossed paths with them all but have no memory of it.

Maybe their majestic presence awed me so much it wiped their image from my brain.

But how can a woman forget someone like Remi?

“First time in the airport and the second just now.” The notes turn softer, more sensual, and the energy around us changes, creating a different atmosphere as realization hits me hard.

The stranger from the airport.

The mystery man and Remi are the same person, which means I’ve only reacted to one man in Chicago.

And what’s even more unbelievable is finding myself at his club of all places!

I gasp when he pushes me away and then grips my hand, making me twirl, and presses me hard against him once again. The air hitches in my throat, our mouths inches apart. “It was you.”

A menacing smile appears on his face, and he nods, murmuring into my ear, “It was me.” His hot palm glides up and down my back, leaving an inferno in its wake, blocking the outside world away. His lips graze my neck. “Welcome to my club, darling.” He grabs my thigh, hiking it up on his hip, and our breaths mingle, a sensual haze enveloping me whole. “At last, you’re here.” Anger and possessiveness lace the words that make no sense to me, and yet everything female in me reacts to them. Electricity flashes through me, and I shift even closer to him, despising the clothes that separate us.

Madness, utter unexplainable madness that rules over logic and common sense, demanding the pleasure of the flesh and the desire to feel his naked body against mine.

He raises me up and spins me around, my nails digging into his shoulders while thousands of sensations travel over my system, one more powerful than the other, heady from the need for this man to do something.

He freezes and leans forward, ready to kiss me, when I see Isla on the second floor, trying to say something to Octavius, who grabs her and pins her to the wall before the glass goes dark, hiding them from the view.

Their image serves as ice-cold water over my hazed mind and snaps me out of the stupor this stranger has placed me in, reminding me of why I came here tonight.

Amalia.

And I almost forgot about her because of Remi.

Nothing and no one has the power to make me forget about my twin, and yet this man managed to do so in the first five minutes of our meeting.

My God, is the air different in Chicago, or what? I’m acting like a lunatic who’s seen a handsome man for the first time.

Shaking my head, I push him away, and he frowns, not expecting that. “Isla,” I say and then dart to the stairs, ready to drag the annoying woman out of there and use any means necessary to get me the information.

Then she can fuck Octavius Reed all she wants or whatever weird stuff they’re doing.

“Not so fast.” Remi grabs my elbow, spinning me around to face him once again. Several people pass, bumping into us and then running away scared when Remi looks at them.

His brown eyes become deadly dark while a murderous expression settles on his features, sending chills down my spine. I even shrink inside, never wanting to be on the other end of such a gaze.

The Four Dark Horsemen might be fair and respectful, but they are also rule breakers who love power, never too afraid to cast fear in those who don’t fall in line with them.

Deciding not to anger a man who basically owns this town I plaster on a polite smile and ask tentatively, glaring at the still dark glass, “Please let me go.” I twist my arm, but his hold stays relentless. “Isla has something I need. Then I can leave.” And forget about this all together.

Especially the stranger who probably chose to distract me so I wouldn’t bother his friend and… who the hell knows who Isla is to him.

It’s not the first time a guy used me for his agenda. However, somehow this time around, it sucks, and a shot of pain stabs in my heart, making me feel like an idiot.

Just because you reacted to a man doesn’t mean he is really interested in you; just look at him.

He’s a Greek god in human flesh. They fall for goddesses and not for us mere humans who gape at them in awe.

With my mood and pride in shambles, I rub my arms as coldness sinks into me and pushes me to the abyss of despair. Once again, nothing’s worked out as I thought it would. “Okay,” I tell him while he studies me intently, and I shift uncomfortably. “I need to order a cab.”

I hope Isla’s word actually means something. Otherwise, tomorrow, I will really use all my connections to retrieve Amalia’s file.

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