Page 62 of His Prince

I pull out a bottle of cognac and pour them both a glass before doing the same for me. I think I need it.

This entire day has just thrown me off completely.

“You always were a great host, Angelo. Seems you’ve really settled in here,” Andrew says, taking his drink from me.

I peer over at Bane, who is pressing up against the walls, his hands dragging across them, his ear against the drywall.

“He’s not settling in, don’t you see?” Bane says and then knocks on a panel before moving on.

Andrew looks at me and then back at Bane.

“You’re not? But you look so happy.”

“I am,” I reply, even though I’m lying. “I’ve made a lot of friends here.” My husband not being one of them, but I digress. “And Iamsettling in.”

Bane snorts but continues to wander around the room, his ear pressed against the walls, knocking here and there until the front door opens and George appears.

He comes to a stop in the kitchen, brushing his hands down his suit jacket, and Bane’s eyes slam into him.

“Who is this?” George asks, his eyes moving from Bane to Andrew.

Bane doesn’t wait for an introduction, just pushes away from the wall, moving up to George quickly and waggling his fingers at him.

“Hello, handsome man. I love your eyes. I’m a friend of Angel’s. Bane, at your service.”

He holds out his hand and George looks at it before taking a step to the side and avoiding him altogether.

“I don’t shake hands.”

Bane eyes him, his mouth parted slightly and then he sighs forlornly.

“But you have great veins.”

He wets his lips, and George’s eyes narrow.

“I am much stronger than you. I would think carefully about what you’ll do next.”

Bane bats his eyelashes, completely undeterred when he suddenly turns his head like he hears something.

“Oh, I knew it,” and then he scurries back over to the wall, making his way around the room, his fingers scouring the drywall as he searches for god knows what. And the entire time, he’s watching George as he does it.

It’s subtle, but I know him as well as anyone can know this guy.

He’s intrigued by George and his veins.

Mikhail appears a moment later as I’m pouring more glasses of cognac and pulling meat and cheese from the charcuterie board. He comes to a stop in the doorway leading to the kitchen and adjusts the cuffs on his new dark gray shirt before striding toward me.

“Is that my imported cognac?”

I grin at him and pour myself more.

“It sure is, husband.”

Bane giggles from across the room, and Andrew cocks his head as he watches me, a sparkle in his eye.

Mikhail must see it because he turns toward Andrew and states, “I won’t be discussing my finances with anyone I don’t know.”

Andrew stops chewing and eyes me with a raised eyebrow.