Vicious Seduction

2

vThe man named Oran stood and turned to greet us, and I nearly gasped at the sight of him. His profile was impressive, but full-on, he was exquisite masculine perfection. And tall. I’d grown used to standing eye to eye with men. In conservative heels, I was an inch taller than Lawrence. But the gray-eyed Adonis before me had to be at least six-four and every inch brimming with swagger. Gorgeous and loaded? He’d probably never been told no in his entire life. I was repulsed. “I’m familiar with the Byrne family. You are a Byrne, aren’t you?” Lawrence managed to look down his nose at the man who stood several inches taller than him. It was almost impressive. “I am.” The man’s steel gaze cut to me, an invisible lasso wrenching tight around my middle and squeezing the air from my lungs. “Oran Byrne.” He held his hand out for mine. I obliged, not wanting to be rude, hating the flush that crossed my cheeks when his lips grazed my knuckles. “At your service,” he murmured, eyes never leaving mine while his hand lingered longer than appropriate. Lawrence’s hand was still on my back. Couldn’t he see that? Who the hell did he think he was, making such an overtly seductive move right in front of my date? “Lina Schultze,” I offered in return with a tight smile. Wellington pulled me closer against his side as though reasserting his claim. “You aren’t honestly telling me they’re considering you for membership here.” “Not considering. It’s done. Tonight is my first official night as a member here at Olympus.” “Surely, there are more … appropriate social organizations for someone with your interests.” His interests? What was Lawrence getting at? Who was this Oran Byrne? Oran’s answering grin was so devastatingly attractive I could hear the subtle whoosh of panties dropping to the floor all around me. “Let’s not be too hasty, Lawrence. We’re not so far apart, you and I.” My date scoffed. Oran raised a hand. “How about this, then? We’ll let the cards decide. If you win, I’ll withdraw my membership, and you’ll never see me here again.” Lawrence’s hand fell away from me, his chin lifting. “And if you win?” The way Oran’s stare burrowed into mine, I half expected him to ask for me. It was an absurd thought. I wasn’t even sure where it had come from, nor the tinge of disappointment when he didn’t. “If I win, you allow me to discuss a business proposition with you.” Oran finally cast his stare back at Lawrence. I did, too. Even the bearded stranger who’d grown silent during the exchange seemed fascinated with hearing Lawrence’s reply. Smugness tugged at a smirk on his lips. “Sounds like I have nothing to lose.” Lawrence pulled out a chair and seated himself at the table. I reached for the chair beside him, my hand colliding with Oran’s. His strong fingers circled mine before I could pull away. “Please, allow me.” He was being overly polite, adding yet another layer of tension to the already suffocating pressure in the room. He released my hand to pull out my chair, but only after his thumb stroked a sensual caress up, then down the center of my palm. The tiny movement was invisible to everyone else, but I felt like he’d stripped me naked, splayed me wide open on the table, and swept his tongue the length of my center. I had no idea the palm could be so erotic. Oran knew exactly what he’d done, according to the hint of a smirk teasing at his lips. My legs suddenly as unsteady as a newborn fawn, I sank to my seat before anyone could detect my distress. These men weren’t the only ones schooled to maintain an impeccable facade. I gave a slight dismissive nod to Oran and turned to my date—the one and only man in this room who deserved my complete attention. Someone needed to relay that message to my heart. It had resumed its frantic sprint, convinced I needed to run for my life. Maybe I did. Judging by the tension around me, I was in the middle of a serious pissing contest. Lawrence sat to my right, and Oran sat a little too close to my left. I was the delectable piece of meat between them. “Gentlemen, place your antes.” The dealer began to shuffle. Oran pushed a stack of three pink chips to the center of the table. Each represented ten thousand dollars. Lawrence motioned to the gaming supervisor for a stack of chips that would be debited from his club account. He tossed his ante haphazardly onto the table as if it didn’t represent the price of a midsize sedan. The air filled with testosterone so thick that it clotted in my lungs. This wasn’t how I’d seen my night playing out, but there was no stopping it now. Oran’s appearance at the club had interrupted my plans and left me with no option but to take a slow, deep breath and watch the show unfold.

CHAPTER 2 ORAN Lina’s composure was impressive. Though, I should have expected as much. No one but an ice queen could possibly be frigid enough to date a man like Wellington. Lina was flawlessly impassive. A living, breathing Barbie doll with no greater purpose than to be played with and admired. It was a shame, in a way. Like opening a meticulously wrapped Christmas present to find nothing inside, and her packaging was nothing short of perfection. She reminded me of a 1950s pinup model—Marilyn Monroe with the most vibrant blue eyes I’d ever seen. And that voice. Jesus Christ, that voice. The natural huskiness made every word sound like something whispered naked in the dark. All together, it was enough to make a man forget his own name. I knew from experience, however, how deceiving appearances could be. The woman I’d married had seemed like quite a prize—not as innately alluring as Lina, but enticing enough to lull me into a false sense of security. My soon-to-be ex-wife taught me a valuable lesson on how easy it was to be deceived by a pretty package. Caitlin had looked and acted like the perfect wife for a whole goddamn year before I learned she was a f*****g lunatic and a traitor. Our marriage had been arranged, so it wasn’t like we’d started with a strong foundation of loyalty, but I’d still been blindsided. My family unearthed her secrets, and now she was behind bars for murder. It was a f****d-up series of events, but it reminded me how important it was to always keep my guard up. A healthy dose of skepticism kept a man breathing. It was a lesson I wouldn’t soon forget.