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Penellaphe shook her head. “Do we even know if he truly is a Descenter?”

The question intrigued me. “Does it matter?”

Her head cut away. “Likely not.”

“He recited the words the Descenters often use,” I said. “I imagine that is what he is.”

She nodded, and I watched her as silence fell between us. I always watched her, but it felt different at the moment. Like I was searching for something. What, I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t even figure it out after I bid her goodnight and returned to the hall before Vikter arrived for his shift. But I had the distinct feeling—one that was so strong, even though I had no idea what it was I looked for—that it would be better if I didn’t find whatever it was.

PLANS HAVE NOT CHANGED

I moved through the hall of one of the upstairs floors of the Red Pearl, a bottle of whiskey I’d helped myself to in one hand and a canvas sack in the other. The floor wasn’t quiet. Moans and grunts came from each side of the hall, so many of them it was hard to tell exactly which chambers were in use and which weren’t.

Taking a swig of the whiskey as I reached the room designated for meetings, I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed open the door.

The smell of sex was the first thing to reach me.

Then the soft, breathy gasp of pleasure turning to surprise.

Lowering the bottle as I kicked the door closed behind me, my gaze swung to the bed—the very same bed I’d laid Penellaphe on.

It was definitely not her on that bed.

The woman on her knees was all lush curves, but her hair was a color somewhere between black and brown. Her eyes, a deep shade of brown, were wide and fixed on me as the hands on her hips tightened, pressing into the flesh. I squinted, thinking I recognized the woman.

“I would ask if you’d considered knocking,” Kieran remarked, the muscles in his hips and ass flexing as he slowed behind the woman. “But obviously that didn’t cross your mind.”

I raised a brow as he lifted the woman’s ample ass that shook with his thrust. “I didn’t realize you’d have company.”

“I assume not.” His skin glistened with a faint sheen of sweat. “You’re earlier than I expected.”

“Clearly,” I drawled.

“Well, since you’re here…” Kieran drew one hand from the woman’s hip, dragging it up the soft skin of her belly and then between her swaying breasts. “Care to join in?”

The woman moaned, rocking forward on the length of his glistening cock.

Kieran chuckled as his fingers curled around the base of her neck and he pulled her back, bringing her flush with his chest. “I don’t think Circe would mind.”

“Not at all,” Circe panted, extending a hand. “Join us.”

It struck me then, as Kieran’s other hand left her hip and delved between her thighs. I knew why I thought she looked familiar. She was a Descenter.

One I was pretty sure I’d fucked.

Kieran’s grin kicked up a notch as he locked eyes with me. Dipping his head, he nipped at her throat, wringing a startled cry of pleasure from her. My gaze went back to his large hand between her thighs, both promising a welcome and pleasant diversion. And considering my cock had just been about as hard as Kieran’s while in Penellaphe’s chambers, I should dive headfirst into what they offered.

But like the morning with Britta, the desire wasn’t there.

“Thanks,” I said. “But I’m good.

“You sure?” Kieran gave her clit a playful smack.

“Positive.” I turned, making my way to the settee. There was something fucking wrong with me. I sat, whiskey bottle in hand as I placed the canvas sack on the floor. “But please, pretend I’m not even here,” I said, knowing damn well neither of them would do that, but both would thoroughly do what I said next. “And enjoy yourselves.”

Kieran made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a groan. I smirked. Taking another drink of whiskey, I propped my feet on the low table.

Circe must’ve whispered something that earned a warning from Kieran to leave me be. My smirk grew, and I could practically feel his heated glare.

I’d be lying if I said the sounds of their bodies coming together or how Kieran fucked, the tight control of his thrusts, and how he ground on her ass had no effect, but as my gaze flickered over the jut of Circe’s rose-tipped breasts, it wasn’t her body I saw in my mind.

It was hers.

Penellaphe’s.

My fantasies decided to put her on that bed between Kieran and me, and man, just imagining that packed a sensual punch.

Gods, I shouldn’t be thinking of her like that for a multitude of reasons, the least of which was that while Penellaphe was curious about sensuality, this would likely scandalize her into an early death.