Page 83 of Merciless Heir
“Why did you go to see Athena?”
His eyes widen slightly. “I’m betting she didn’t tell you.”
“Not in so many words.”
Kingston shrugs and holds onto the ends of the towel that’s lying around his neck. “Why do you think, Sadie?”
“Because you’re an asshole.”
He laughs and leans against the stone island. “Trust is delicate.” He picks up his glass and takes a swallow.
“Or in your case, non-existent.”
Kingston sighs. “You’re not explaining why you think I’m going.”
“Because it’s invitation only.”
“And since when has that stopped you?”
I consider him, then nod. “This is easier. And, it’s your family.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you want to go to a fundraiser run by my brother? It’s a small thing, big money. Not exactly a let’s find the tiara event, is it?”
I could lie outright, tell him I suspect someone there might have a connection, but that’s a dangerous game with him. Danger doesn’t bother me when it’s for a reason. Or when the person I’m playing with isn’t a threat. This man is. To me. In dark, intimate ways.
He sees more than most.
There’s tinder between us that’s been doused in a combustible that’s waiting for a match. It’s been lit before, and it wants that again. I want it, even as much as I don’t.
So I choose a half-truth. “Your mother will be there.”
“You want her to see us together?”
“I want to see her in action.”
Kingston smiles slowly. “You know that’s flimsy.”
He’s right, it is, and I deliberately breathe evenly. “Let’s just say I’m curious.”
“Okay,” he says after a small pause, “give me fifteen.”
The party is in full swing when we get to the impressive loft in TriBeCa. His brother, Ryder, opens the door and old school jazz wraps about us.
The man is most definitely Kingston’s brother, and he’s probably the most stunning man I’ve met. He’s hands-down, unobjectively beautiful.
But I prefer Kingston’s beauty and its hard edge.
“Normally this is Mag’s thing, but sometimes you gotta do your duty. And I thought you weren’t coming, King,” he says by way of greeting. Then his gaze lights on me and he grins. “Your taste has improved.”
“If you’re going to be doorman…” Kingston takes off his coat and hands it to his brother, who dumps it.
“Ryder.” A tall redhead who reminds me of a film star from yesteryear approaches and collects the coat, hanging it up on a stand. There are staff, I can see them and no doubt there’s a set up for coat check, but this is family and the party isn’t huge. It’s big enough and yet, not at all the kind of thing I’m expecting, though, taking in the man with the coal-black curls in his dark purple suit, it all fits.
These two are as different as I could have imagined, but it’s clear they’re brothers and not just from looks. There’s steel beneath that layer of natural flirt and charm of Ryder, and his gaze smokes for the redhead. No jewels on her except a ring on her left hand.
Ryder slides a hand about her waist. “What? I’m allowed. He’s my asshole brother.”
“I’m not the only one who sees it,” I say to Kingston.