Page 4 of Immoral (Park Avenue Kings #3)

BENOIT

“ W E ALL KNOW your body’s a work of fuckin’ art—you don’t have to show up to this shit naked,” Alessio said the second I logged on to the video meeting with all of the other Kings later that evening.

The Kings of Libertine, our ultra-private and exclusive society of powerful, rich men from across the globe, not actual kings of countries.

Yet.

I glanced down at my bare chest, still damp from my shower, and was tempted to lower the camera below my waist just to piss him off.

“I didn’t hear any complaints tonight,” I said. “In fact, they were begging me not to leave.”

“Did the begging also extend to our target?” Shep asked, always the one ready to get to the point. Being the son of a former U.S. president meant years of learning how to sift through the bullshit and use it to his advantage. And now our advantage.

“Of course it did,” I said, balking at any speculation that I couldn’t follow through on the job. “You think I put on a wicked pair of heels and rhinestone G-string with nothing to show for it?”

“I don’t know your sex life,” Lachlan muttered as he sharpened a knife on a rod of steel.

Theo, the only one of us who could actually claim to be royalty, as a prince of Monaco, said, “Doesn’t look like much of a sex life at all, considering you’re alone in that hotel room. Wasn’t the point to end up in someone else’s bed?”

I ran a hand through my wet hair, tousling the strands a bit, and ignored the insinuation. “You underestimate me. That’s adorable.”

Tyrone Kingston, better known as King, the founder and leader of Libertine, sighed. “Can we get back to the brief, please?”

“Oh, I don’t think he’s wearing any of those,” Lucien said, a mischievous twinkle in the sex club owner’s eyes.

I shot him a wink. “You’re right about that. In fact, I’m not wearing anything at a?—”

“Benoit.” King’s voice switched to that deeper, no-nonsense tone he always got when he was ready to lay down the law. “We need to know what you’ve learned about the target.”

I, on the other hand, liked to… How did Dimitri put it? Push the boundaries ?

“Well, for one thing, he’s a lot sexier in person than his photos let on,” I said. “It’s his vibe—it’s super intense and hot, especially when he’s eye-fucking you?—”

“ Benoit, ” King growled, and it seemed that maybe I’d pushed a little too far. “Get to the point.”

“Our intel was right,” I said. “Dimitri is about to leave the country. For a month.”

“You heard him say that?”

“No.” I preened a little, a grin curling my lips. “He invited me to go with him.”

“Holy shit.” Alessio shook his head. “You really did it. You seduced that cold-hearted motherfucker.”

I wasn’t sure cold was how I would personally describe Dimitri, especially after the way he’d looked at me tonight.“Was there ever any doubt?”

“I mean,” Lucien said, chuckling, “it’s been a while since you’ve worn the heels. Turned me and the club down several times.”

“Yes, well, they only come out for special occasions. This was one of them.”

“So you got him to ask you to join him,” Shep—King’s right-hand man—said.

“I did.”

“So when does that happen?”

“Don’t know.” I shrugged. “I told him no.”

“You did what?” Shep’s jaw twitched, and I laughed.

“Relax. It’s all part of my plan. Haven’t you ever heard of playing hard to get?”

Theo snorted. “It’s been so long since he played with anything, he probably doesn’t even remember how to get hard.”

Shep’s eyes narrowed, but before he could reply, King shut it down.

“I didn’t set up this chat to talk about what everyone is or isn’t doing with their dicks. Benoit, report.”

“ My apologies. Tonight at his gala, Dimitri requested my presence in his VIP cabana. There, he invited me to spend the next month with him while he conducted business for a million dollars.”

“Only a million, huh?” Lachlan’s smartass mouth got him a flipped finger, but I kept on going.

“I, of course, played the shocked, but flattered, little dancer and refused. You know, morals and all. Then he offered me two million.”

Alessio whistled. “That’s some serious cash for flashing your ass.”

“What can I say, it’s a spectacular ass.”

“Okay, so he offered you two million? And…”

“I told you. I said no. This isn’t the kind of man who is turned on by someone who easily capitulates, boys. He wants a challenge. So I gave him one.”

King nodded and rubbed at his jaw. “It’s a risky move. What if he decides to invite one of the other dancers in your place?”

I put a hand to my chest. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.

You sent me in here for a reason: to read our mark and get close to him.

You have to trust me. This is what Dimitri wants.

What he needs to tempt and distract him.

From the first time he saw me last week to an hour ago when I left him sitting in his cabana alone, that man hasn’t been able to stop thinking about me.

Trust me, I have him right where I want him. ”

“You better, because this is our only shot at this. We need you in place to see who he’s meeting with. I’m not about to get into bed with drug lords and terrorists.”

“I’ll be able to find that out and more. Really, the lack of belief in my abilities is telling. I don’t question it when Lachlan’s sent out to take care of an enemy. Or when we have to trust that Alessio can break into an offshore account and steal millions?—”

“Steal’s a strong word,” Alessio interjected.

“And I don’t see you complaining when I eliminate any threats,” Lachlan added.

I lifted a shoulder. “Just saying, you do your jobs and let me do mine.”

King’s brows pulled tight as he lowered his chin. “All this aside, you do know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

I heard the warning, but he knew as well as I did that I wouldn’t put myself—or my body—out there if I didn’t want to. I appreciated the gesture, but it was unnecessary. Dimitri was a man I was interested in getting between the sheets, mark or not.

“Trust me, I know,” I said. “This is not going to be a hardship on my part. At all.”

“You have a plan B, though?” Theo asked, and when I shot daggers in his direction, he held his hands up. “Not that I don’t believe you can persuade anyone, but backtracking and taking the two mil after all this would be embarrassing.”

“I—” My words cut off at the knock on the door, and I held up a finger to the guys.

“You’re all about to eat your words,” I said, standing and refastening my towel so I flashed them all.

Their groans were audible as I headed to the door and pulled it open, and the two bellhops on the other side took one look at my half-naked body and quickly looked down at their feet.

The top of the first one’s head flushed a bright shade of red as he held an envelope out for me. “This came for you, sir. We were told to bring it to you straight away.”

“Ah, merci .” I plucked the envelope from his hand, loving that my instincts were right.

“And also this.” The second bellhop stepped forward with a large, intricate box in his arms. The box itself was gorgeous, like an ornate vintage jewelry box, only much too big.

I bit back my smile and slipped them both a few bills from my nightstand before taking the box and heading back to the laptop.

“My oh my, will you look at this,” I said, setting my gift on the bed in full view of the camera and then sitting down behind it, fanning myself with the envelope.

“No fucking way,” Shep said, shaking his head in either disbelief or admiration. Maybe a mix of both.

Lachlan narrowed his eyes. “Okay, but what’s in the fucking box? A bomb?”

I arched a brow. “And the point of that would be?”

“That he knows you’re a spy,” Alessio said. “Don’t open it.”

“You’re ridiculous. I’m not ignoring a gift, especially one this nice.”

“You won’t think it’s so nice when what’s inside blows your face off.”

“Well then, I suppose you’d better get a good look at it now.” I turned my face to each side before sliding my finger under the envelope’s flap and ripping it open.

It wasn’t like I even needed to see what was on the card, but humoring them was too entertaining to resist.

There, in handwritten black ink, was the summons I’d expected:

I don’t take no for an answer. Tuesday. Noon.

~Your Monster

I read the card aloud for them and then flipped the latch on the box. Another note was placed on top of carefully bound hundred-dollar bills that filled the interior to the brim.

Two million now. Another two at the end of the month.

“Shit, you did it. You really fuckin’ did it,” I heard someone mutter, but I was too busy grinning like a Cheshire Cat at my victory to notice who it was.

“What did I tell ye of little faith?” I said, taking one of the bundles of crisp bills and fanning myself with it. “Got him, boys.”