Page 12 of First Snow

Followed by a couple of security guards, Annikki Hurme appears next to them.

“You heard Mr. Faeling. The party’s over,” Hurme says, grinning.

By their dumbfounded looks, Arttu assumes Lord Briar and his posh friends aren’t used to being treated like actual people who have to take responsibility for their actions. Hurme seems to be having fun kicking them out.

“My father will hear of this,” Briar says, and Arttu can’t help but snicker. How is he supposed to keep a straight face when the guy acts like a walking cliché?

Faeling ever so lightly touches Arttu’s hip as if he fears he might attack Briar again and wants to hold him back.

“Greetings to your father,” Faeling says coldly. “If he approves of your behavior, I don’t want to see him here again, either.”

Briar gapes.

“We’re still waiting for an apology,” Emily chimes in and tries to squeeze herself between Hurme and Faeling. Arttu notes with relief that she isn’t hurt.

Briar glares at Faeling, but whatever he finds in his gaze makes him deflate again.

“Apologies,” Briar grits out.

“I’m sure you can do better–” Emily starts, but Arttu slips out of Faeling’s grip to step in front of her, effectively cutting her tirade short. Arttu has no idea if Briar is actually a lord and how much wealth and power his title carries, but he doesn’t want a man who can afford to take revenge to hold a grudge against Emily.

“That’s enough for tonight, Mistress,” Arttu says. He means it for Emily’s ears only, but he’s sure at least Faeling is picking up on his words. “I’ll call you a cab.”

“That’s already taken care of,” Faeling says. “Yvette, Lester.” He gestures to two of his security guards. “See these gentlemen out. Annikki, would you accompany Mistress Emily to her cab?”

Arttu notes with relief that Faeling makes sure that Briar and his entourage are escorted in a different direction from Emily. As soon as they’re out of sight, Arttu turns to follow the women.

“Not so fast,” Faeling stops him by putting a hand on his elbow again. A new wave of adrenaline kicks in and has Arttu’s heart beating like crazy. What does Faeling want now?

“What?” Arttu manages. He’s too tired for civil conversation.

Faeling turns him around by his shoulders. It’s the first time they’re facing each other, and Faeling is standing awfully close. It makes their height difference more obvious, and Arttu feels unease settling in his gut.

Instead of answering, Faeling grabs Arttu’s chin and tilts his head this way and that with surprising gentleness.

“I want to have a look at your injuries first.”

“I’m not injured,” Arttu protests.

“He’s a doctor! Let him have a look!” Emily shouts. She hurries back to them to kiss Arttu on the cheek. “Thanks,” she whispers, then she yawns. “We’ll be in touch, yes?”

“Okay.”

With a not-so-subtle wink, she leaves Arttu to his fate, the little traitor.

“Your Domme is a handful,” Faeling chuckles as he guides Arttu to the private part of the club with a gentle hand on the small of his back. Only as the crowd parts for them does Arttu realize just how many people have been watching them.

“We don’t play. Emily’s a friend.”

“I’m not judging.”

“Why would you?” Arttu snarls. He should keep his mouth shut, but something about Faeling’s aloof attitude rubs him the wrong way.

“Fair enough,” Faeling doesn’t seem impressed. He leads him down a corridor and opens the door to a large room—half office, and half living room. Faeling gestures to a chaise lounge in front of a fireplace. “Sit.”

“I can deal with this myself, you know.”

Arttu wants to facepalm as soon as the words leave his mouth. He should seize this opportunity, but he’s starting to feel the fatigue, booze, and pain. He just can’t play an elaborate role feeling like shit. On any other undercover gig, he would use his own personality to make playing the role easier and his fake persona more organic. But it’s been some time since he’s been undercover and he didn’t expect to be so rusty. What he also hadn’t expected is how affected he is by Faeling. He’s used to dealing with murderers—suspected and convicted alike—but Faeling’s whole demeanor has Arttu taken aback and intrigued at the same time. He doesn’t want Faeling to see too much of his real self, but at the same time he’s unable to just play his role.