Page 161 of Beautifully Ruined

My lace and silk negligee, which isn’t really the right thing to wear but it’s in baby doll-pink, and my gold-heeled slides give me a bedroom look that I have a feeling Thomas is going to like.

It was all I could come up with from the purchases I made with Lia that day, that was both sexy, young, and romantic in a way. I’d bought it to wear with Cade.

But for the club, it’s something a little different, it hints more than exposes, titillates with the youthful femininity.

It’s something I realized I wanted to torment Cade in, tease him by pretending to be just eighteen, virginal, a small fantasy of mine I didn’t even know I had until I’d looked at my outfits tonight.

And that only hit me because I thought it’d make me stand out.

Appeal to men like Thomas, who I suspect likes them young.

His eyes the night we came here were on me, yes, but they were on all the women who looked my age or a little younger.

I swallow down the lump of guilt as I show the hostess my bracelet. She just raises a brow, and I put my name down, and then I go in.

After handing in my coat to the coat check, I look around.

There aren’t many people here yet. At least on this floor, and I go up to the bar.

“Try our newest plum cocktail. It’s divine.” The blond bartender in leather pants winks. “No one’s really here yet. Not the watchers, anyway. Or are you here to play.”

His gaze drops to the bracelet.

“A drink?” I was going to say no, but I change my mind. “I’d like that, thanks.”

“Sure thing, pretty thing.”

And as he pours one, heavy on the Calvados, I ask, “Do you know if Mr. Allistair is around?”

He smirks now, and holds up a finger, making a call on a black phone behind the bar.

Two minutes later, Thomas comes out from where his office is, dressed in a suit, and his eyes lock on me. He takes me in slowly, lasciviously, and then he makes a grand gesture of looking around for Cade.

My blush is real. But it’s not one of flattery. Inside, a queasiness rocks me, and I have to tell myself this is the only option I have.

I offer him a small smile. “He’s not here.”

His eyes light up with a greed I’ve never seen before. It’s gluttony and avarice but on me, and for the flesh. Like it’s commodity. And something he wants to own. Not any flesh… Mine.

Somehow, I hide the hot revulsion that rises in me like bile.

“Well now, you’re the last person I expected to show here. Alone.” His tone drips with innuendo. “Craig said you were looking for me? I’m hoping that’s a good thing…”

“Yes,” I say, leaving it ambiguous in its meaning. “I was hoping you could find time in your busy evening for me.”

“Really?”

“I…I’d like to speak to you.”

Thomas steps closer, crowding me, and I’m enveloped in a cloud of oud and spice that cloys. “Fuck, you’re pretty. And sweet. You look soft, untouched. I know you’re not, but even looking untouched does things to a man. Did you know that?”

“You flatter me.”

“Do I? Good. But it’s the truth.” He moves even closer. “Talk? It’s too noisy here, don’t you think? My private rooms might be more comfortable.” His hand comes down to my waist, but I shake my head.

“That sounds…” I stop. “Actually, Mr. Allistair, I wanted to speak to you about a job.”

“Really?” Now he frowns. But the avarice changes to one I’m more familiar with. Money, power, the game of gain for him. “I see. Come and sit.”