Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
I didn’t find that as reassuring as he thought I would, considering that was not fair at all.
But I didn’t have a chance to enter into a discussion with him.
My door was swinging open, and a valet was helping me out.
Sirk met me on the carpet, put a hand to my back and guided me in. He got his share of flashes, definitely. But nothing like the blitz Aleksei received.
We were barely two steps in before Gayliliel was on us.
She grabbed my arms, kissed both my cheeks, leaned back and gave me a top to toe, announcing, “Oh my gods, you look fucking phenomenal.”
“So do you,” I replied, thinking her bronze, one-shoulder gown was perfect.
She glanced over and up, blinked and whispered in Sirk’s direction, “Oh my gods, you’re just plain phenomenal.”
“I already know I like your friends a whole fuckin’ lot,” Sirk declared.
I laughed and introduced, “Gayle, Sirk Parrin. Sirk, Gayle Vinestrong.”
He swept up her hand and held it to his chest. “It is my utmost pleasure.”
She just blinked at him, mouth open, and I mentally inventoried my evening bag in an effort to remember if I had a handkerchief should she drool.
I had one, of course.
I didn’t need it, because Cat descended, I got cheek brushes, and then she pointed in Gayle’s face.
“Don’t even think about it. I saw him first. I have dibs,” she warned.
“He just got here, so I saw him first,” Gayle returned. “And you’re on a date.”
“I saw him on vid on Laura’s Palm,” Cat informed her. “And I’m on a working date, where I’m working and I have a date. But I always keep my options open.”
I glanced around to make sure Bash wasn’t close and didn’t hear that.
He wasn’t, so at least that was all good.
It was also indicative of why Cat hadn’t made a true connection. I didn’t know if she was always on the lookout for something better, or she was scared who she found might disappoint her father, or if she was terrified of giving her heart to someone like Dagon.
But whoever she was with, it was Cat who held herself distant.
“Palm vids don’t count,” Gayle shot back.
“They so do,” Cat retorted, and turned to Sirk and me. “Get champagne.” She gave Sirk a narrow look and suggested, “Avoid the hors d’oeuvres. My caterers are excellent, but I’ve been to Stained Glass, and they’re about fifty pegs down from what you’re used to. Now I need to sell paintings, sculptures and what Terrinton calls ‘experiences.’ Must dash. Amusez-vous bien!”
And she was off.
Gayle got close, huddling with Sirk and me.
“Okay, this place is a mad crush, but we need to pretend to care about what this obviously somewhat unhinged, no offense to the somewhat unhinged, artist calls art so we can”—she paused to give me two exaggerated winks—“run into a certain someone.”
“You’d suck at subterfuge,” I said out of the side of my mouth. “And I know this because you’re using subterfuge, and you suck at it.”
Sirk snickered as he pulled Gayle to his left side, curling her fingers around his arm, his opposite hand returned to my back, and with the three off us attached, he led us into the crush.
“Then it’s good I’m a marketing director and not a spy,” she rejoined while we moved.
We navigated the space, during which Sirk expertly nabbed three glasses of champagne off a tray, handing two to Gayle and me.
As we walked, I saw all around me what I expected to see, since I was a fan (if you will) of Terrinton’s.
He didn’t create beauty.
He created chaos.
But there was something beautiful about it.
At least I thought so.
Though, nothing was more beautiful than the tall, black-haired man in his royal-blue suit, who was in a back corner talking to the artist himself, his attention on me, but his chin jutted toward Sirk.
Sirk guided us directly there.
He gave a casual bow, and Gayle and I dropped into curtsies (mine was much more fluid, since Madam Garwah started every class with ten minutes of thigh-burning curtsy practice, which I doubted I needed, she just got a kick out of me collapsing into my desk chair after it was over).
Aleksei and Sirk then did the whole alpha male handshake that started with hands, then moved to grip forearms, before Sirk turned to Gayle and me.
“Your highness…”
Dang, he even made that sound friendly and not fussed.
“…may I present Laura Makepeace and Gayle Vinestrong.”
“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Laura,” Aleksei replied, his deep voice sharing volumes by dipping straight to velvet as he took my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles. He let me go to take Gayle’s. “And I’m honored.”
“Me too, totally,” she whispered, her eyes—oh boy—were bright with unshed tears and a wonky, happy, tremulous smile was on her face.
I bumped her with my hip to tell her to get it together.