Dark Horse: The Kingmaker Saga #5
Page 20
Tonight was about work even as she was in a four-figure dress and similarly priced heels. It might have been the opposite of her usual casual attire when she went into work at the paper, but she still felt like the same girl.
Once she had her door locked, Orion placed a calloused hand on the small of her back. Ever the gentleman as he led her down the flight of stairs to the first floor.
Outside, a Rolls Royce idled at the curb, jet black with black rims and tinted windows. A boy who couldn’t be more than twelve years old stood next to the expensive car with his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression stern as if he dared anyone to approach the car.
Spotting Orion, the look cleared as he straightened and gestured to the car. “Not a scratch on it, just like you said.”
“Thanks for looking out,” Orion replied with a smile before he pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and handed them over. “Spend it wisely.”
The boy looked alarmed and seemed ready to shake his head and refuse the payment, but he never got the chance before Orion practically shoved the money at him and sent him on his way.
As he opened the passenger door—that opened from the opposite side as opposed to a regular car—he met her gaze. “What?”
“That was nice of you.”
He shrugged, as if giving away more than a thousand dollars to a kid he didn’t know was no big deal. “Someone’s gotta look out for them.”
Them.
A street kid, she knew.
Same as Orion had been once upon a time.
She still remembered a story he had told her during one of their early lunches together. About how he had grown up as an orphan in the Bronx, bouncing from foster home to foster home before finally wagering he’d be better able to make it on his own than under the care of people who, “didn’t give a shit whether he made something of himself or not,” as he’d put it.
Two types of criminals littered the world.
Those like Paxton, who used their money and influence to take what they wanted without care of who they harmed in the process.
Then there were those like Orion … doing what was necessary to survive, and while they might have caused some harm, they still tried to make up for it in some way.
Slipping into the passenger seat, she inhaled the scent of leather and cologne as Orion hustled around to the other side and sat behind the wheel.
As she reached for the door handle, Orion stopped her. “I got it.”
Was he going to get back out and—
With one press of a button, the door closed on its own.
“Should I even ask where you got this car from.”
He smirked. “You already know the answer to that.”
Right.
A friend of a friend of an enemy.
Checking his side mirror, he pulled out. Resting his hand idly on the gearshift, he kept his gaze straight ahead.
“I’d say we have solid thirty minutes with this traffic before we get to the venue.”
“Is this the part where you tell me I need to be on my best behavior?” she asked, glancing over at him.
“If you already know, I shouldn’t have to tell you.”
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
He made a low sound in the back of his throat. “Why don’t I believe that?”
Because he knew her far too well.
* * *
The event hall was lavish, the floral fragrance of the flower arrangements in sitting pots lining the marble stairs just as beautiful as the room itself. The grand chandelier that hung over the main room cast arcs of rainbows against the glittering crystals, offset by the white décor and expensive paintings hung along the walls.
Hired staff in waistcoats circled the room, distributing drinks and directing others to their tables. As one passed, Orion grabbed a flute of champagne for them both.
“I’m curious,” Karina said, her gaze dancing over the crowd of people before turning over to Orion. “Is your boss here?”
He might have told her anything she wanted to know, within reason, and had even shared personal bits about his past and the former family he had once belonged to—the only one he made a point to visit whenever he could—but he had never told her a single thing about the man he worked for.
The only thing she could say for certain was that the man was Russian, and the only reason she knew that was because she had briefly overheard a conversation between them and recognized the language Orion spoke in hushed tones.
She wasn’t sure whether it was because he didn’t want her looking into him, or because the man wouldn’t look kindly on his association with someone in her field, but either way, it had left her curious all the same.
Especially since she still wasn’t sure what he did exactly.
“Even if he was,” Orion said with a hint of a smile, “I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re my date, and you don’t mix that shit.”
A light laugh left her. “Did you forget why you brought me here in the first place?”
“Unfortunately not, but he’s not the one I gave an oath to.”
Who had he made an oath to?
Before she could ask him just that, he cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him, but instead of looking at her, he was staring straight ahead at a man coming down the same marble stairs they had ventured from some minutes ago, dressed in all black.
She knew, without Orion having to say a word, who he was.
It shone in the way he carried himself.
No mental image she could have come up with compared to the man in front of her.
It didn’t show the wide breadth of his shoulders or the way he filled out that black-on-black three-piece suit he wore so well. The gleam of his hair and cut of his jaw.
It was as if his very presence had caused the room to become electric. They weren’t the only ones focused on him.
For once in her life, Karina found herself speechless as she regarded the man she had only recently heard so much about.
“That’s him,” Orion said after a moment, his voice low even though the nearest person to them was several feet away.
They, too, were staring at him as cleared the stairs and entered the room fully, a charming half-smile lighting up his features as he shook hands with the man waiting at the base of the stairs for him. But that smile, Karina noted, didn’t reach his eyes.
Not even close.
“Shit.”
Orion’s curse managed to break her concentration, drawing her gaze in his direction. “What?”
“You’ve got that look,” he muttered before draining his own glass, already looking for another.
A smile crept its way onto her face. “What look would that be?”
“The one when you’re about to do some reckless shit.”
That startled a real laugh out of her, and despite his serious expression, his lips quirked at the corners.
“Am I that easy to read?”
He shrugged. “Nah. I just pay attention.”
As quickly as Uilleam had seemed to become the center of her universe—or the way the room had seemed to freeze at his arrival—she looked away from him.
Probably best not to court his attention so soon.
Orion, glad to have her focus back on him, walked around the room with her, making small talk with two senators, a Fortune 500 CEO, and a few other notable figures, yet not one of them turned their noses up at him. Instead, they seemed almost eager to talk.
They only spared her the barest of glances, probably believing she was merely a pretty face on his arm for the night, and she didn’t bother to correct them on the assumption.
Instead, she sipped her champagne and listened, observing everything and cataloging details that might prove worthy later on.
Though she still wasn’t entirely sure how Orion had managed to score tickets to the event, she was grateful all the same.
The ability to be comfortable around anyone, all while charming them to the point that they didn’t know they were being deceived.
Karina wasn’t so gullible.
She stared across the distance at him from the time it took him to circle the table and stand behind his chair to the moment when his gaze lazily drifted over the crowd of people moving to their seats and double-backed to her.
She didn’t even try to fight the satisfaction she felt as she watched rage burn like fire in his eyes. She was the last person he was expecting to see, no doubt, especially not so close with no one seeming the wiser.
But even as satisfaction filled her, her own gaze didn’t linger on him for very long before she was scanning the crowd again, looking … looking …
“Looking for me?”
The low, delightfully accented voice made her freeze where she sat, and out the corner of her eye, it was impossible not to notice the way Orion stiffened too.
The rumors she had heard didn’t at all do the man justice. She had thought him beautiful when he’d stood across the room, oblivious to her perusal of him, but the man in front of her was more than that.
So much more.
This wasn’t the first time she had been around handsome men—Orion could hold his own beside him—yet she couldn’t mistake the sudden awareness that crept through her now that he was so close.
There was just something about him that made her heart stutter.
She considered, for a moment, pretending as if she had no idea what he was talking about—to pretend she had no idea who he was—but she thought better of it before she opened her mouth.
“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name I’ve heard so much about.” At least her voice was steady despite the rest of her. “I thought you would be older.”
Contrary to what she had believed, if she had to guess, he was only a few years older than her.
His cool expression warmed as he regarded her, cracking some of the ice around his eyes, and despite herself, she could feel the flush rising in her cheeks.
How utterly affected she was just around him …
It didn’t make any sense.
“I thought you would be less beautiful,” he returned, his eyes dipping down her front, his gaze lingering in all the places that were far too intimate for a first encounter before he lifted his gaze back up again. “Seems we were both mistaken.”
The compliment was unexpected, and had it come from anyone else, she might have been able to let it drift into one ear and out the other, but his words lingered.
And for a moment, they repeated themselves over and over in her head.
“Are you always so forthcoming with your thoughts?”
“Depends on who’s listening.”
He helped himself to the seat opposite her, blatantly ignoring Orion altogether as he gave her his full, undivided attention.
This close, she could just see the golden flecks in his eyes.
“You obviously know who I am,” she said when she regained the ability to speak, “then you have to know what I do.”
“Which is why I had security retrieve all potential recording devices from everyone before they entered this room.”
“Clever,” she admitted grudgingly. She had wondered why they had asked for them when they had arrived, but had dismissed it thinking the guests in attendance hadn’t wanted their pictures taken for any reason.
He inclined his head. “So I’ve been told.”
“Clever or not,” she said, holding her head up straight, “that’s not going to change what I’m doing here.”
If anything, that managed to make his smile tip up a little further as he extended his hand palm up. “Dance with me and tell me all about it.”
She could only imagine the surprise reflected on her face at his suggestion. At most, she had been expecting a thinly veiled threat or at least a warning that she needed to stay away from Paxton and the death she was looking into.
But perhaps that had been what the lawyers were for. A test, of some sort. Meant to see whether she would back down at the slightest provocation, or if she would continue as if their warning hadn’t been enough.
The fact that she was here at this event was an unspoken acknowledgment that she wasn’t leaving this alone just yet.
“I don’t dance with strange men with unclear motives.”
“I want to see what secrets spill from those lips of yours. There’s nothing unclear about that, Miss Ashworth.”
Karina didn’t realize she was reaching toward him until she felt his fingers close around her hand, his hold gentle but firm. Her legs carried her out onto the dance floor behind him through no thought of her own, but her heart was beating so fast in her chest that she could only focus on the echoing thump and the blood rushing in her ears.
This was the moment she had been waiting for—the moment that would trigger the beginning of the end.
Before she could get lost in her own head, she blinked back to reality when she felt Uilleam’s arm slide around her waist, the palm of his hand pressing against the small of her back.
It was almost too easy to slip her hand into his, pressing just close enough that she could feel the lean muscle through the fine fabric of his suit.
He was beautiful. Without a doubt.
Everything about him felt designed to draw her in.
But as quickly as she had been focused on him, she glanced beyond his shoulder where a couple wearing matching purple whispered to each other as they watched them.
“People are staring.”
Uilleam didn’t turn. If anything, his grip on her grew a little tighter. “Everyone likes to study beautiful things. Of course they’d be looking at you.”
“Is that how you do it?” she asked, trying desperately not to be flattered. “You charm your way into getting what you want?”
“Charm only gets you so far.”
He spun them, moving them deeper into the center of the room, as sure on his feet as he was with his words.
Those mornings spent in the ballroom learning how to dance were worth every second now as she easily kept up with his sure movements.
“The rest is what you know, but I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? You still haven’t told me what it is you think I do.”
He spun her, as smoothly as if he had been dancing all his life … or had taken lessons. She vividly remembered the sheer number of them she had been forced to take from the time she was five until just after her seventeenth birthday.
Had his parents forced the same on him? Or had he learned at a prestigious boarding school where that was a standard?
Uilleam certainly had the demeanor and manners that said he might have attended one. Not to mention, the careful way he enunciated his words, his accent a touch more posh.
Did it really matter considering what she knew about him?
Why was it even a thought?
“Would you tell me?” she asked curiously. “If I were to guess correctly, I mean. Would you tell me if I was right?”
His smile was a touch more rueful. “I’ll certainly tell you where you’re wrong.”
“You broker deals,” she started, thinking back on the board she had created in his honor. Remembering the various bullet points and question marks that had rested beside each written out assumption.
“Not in the way you think, I’d imagine.”
“Are you going to elaborate on that?”
“You’re a journalist,” he said, pulling her in close. “Phrase your wording better.”
“You make desperate people offers they’re too stupid to decline.”
When Uilleam was amused, she was beginning
to see, only one corner of his mouth tilted up in an infuriatingly sexy smirk, but when he was impressed … his smile took over his face, lips splitting to reveal perfectly straight white teeth. It would have been impossible not to get lost in his smile for a little.
No one could possibly ignore it.
She couldn’t be blamed for the way she stared.
“On their own merits, they all believe they’re the smartest men in the world.”
“Is that what you are?” she asked. “You believe you’re the smartest man in the world?”
“Decidedly not. But I know enough about people that it all becomes rather predictable.”
“How do you pick them?” she asked, trying very hard to ignore the way his fingers flexed against the small of her back.
“So certain that people don’t merely request my services and I see it done?”
“They might come to you, but it’s ultimately your choice,” she said. “Otherwise, we’d have had this little meeting sooner.”
Because he would have worked for anyone if the price was right, and the more people he worked for, the likelier it would be that someone like her caught on to what he was doing.
While she didn’t doubt that he had probably worked on a number of other jobs before she caught wind of the first she’d stumbled onto, she doubted there would be more than a dozen more.
Mere minutes in his presence made her think he was more selective, leaning toward cautious. She still vividly remembered the way Orion had reacted to her describing him, and how he had seemed so reluctant to talk about him. Not to mention that when she had casually mentioned Uilleam’s name to others, they either had no idea who he was, or changed the subject entirely
It was odd the effect he had on people, but instead of scaring her off, it made her more curious.
“So sure about that?” he asked a question of his own, pulling her to a gentle stop.
“Quite certain.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re standing here with me right now. I don’t imagine you make it a point to get close to anyone, let alone a journalist who’s trying to unravel your secrets.”
He stared down at her with unreadable eyes, though in this position, she could see the darker ring of brown that outlined his irises. “No,” he said. “I don’t.”