Page 168 of Damaged Mogul

“I’m not sure that’s her scene.” I shift in my seat. “It might be a little over the top for her.”

“How many times have I heard that before?” Larkin says. “Sometimes the shyest ones come alive once they step inside my club.”

“The sisterhood will be there. They’ll hold her hand,” Rhys says. “Not to mention, you’ll be there.”

“If the raunchiness that takes place in the main party room is too much to handle, I’ll give you my private room. All the rooms, lounge rooms, and mini lounge rooms are booked. I was planning on having a little fun tonight, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice for you. What are friends for?”

I consider Larkin.

I’ve been avoiding Lily since Sunday morning after leaving her hotel room. Asking her to be my date at an exclusive adult club where high rollers meet for an illicit night and all sorts of kinky stuff should make for a great conversation starter.

“Ask her,” Rhys says.

“Had you not claimed her, I would’ve.”

My eyes snap in Larkin’s direction before narrowing, jealousy beating at my chest.

“Down, boy,” he says. “You wouldn’t be able to land a punch.” He crooks a thumb over his shoulders to where his bodyguards are standing. “They’re former Irish Army Ranger Wing.”

I frown.

“Elite soldiers of the special operations force of the Irish Defence Forces,” Larkin says. “You don’t want to mess with that level of military training.”

My nostrils flare.

“I wanted to rattle your cage, Mr. Hollingsworth. Mission accomplished.”

I roll my eyes. “If you’re trying to be funny, that was an epic fail.”

“You saw her first,” Larkin says. “A real man doesn’t mess around with another man’s girl.”

My lips stretch into a thin line. “In that case, why poke the bear?”

“Because for the past three years, you’ve made it a point to use women for one specific thing.”

“And you haven’t deviated. Ever.” Rhys piggybacks on Larkin’s campaign. “Lily is the perfect candidate to help you break the curse.”

My hands dive into my hair to tug at the strands.

Larkin and Rhys are aware of the demons I’ve been battling for the past three years. Fuck them for using that knowledge to manipulate me.

“Mr. Hartford is right. A beauty with raven hair, passing through the City of Angels, enticed you to break your self-imposed rule.”

My eyes bounce to Larkin. “So, now you two are shrinks?”

Larkin shakes his head. “A blind man could see what was unfolding.”

“My bad. You’re a poet. Rhys is the shrink.”

Larkin levels me with a threatening gaze.

I don’t avert my eyes.

“It’s your prerogative to keep your head stuck in the sand, Mr. Hollingsworth.”

A long beat passes.

Me, stewing.