Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies Page 111

“Ah, Mr. Gentry,” I said, trying to sound amused. “I take you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”

“It’s my own damn house!” he shouted.

“Gentry. That’s enough,” a cold, genteel male voice commanded.

I swung my gaze to the front door, and my skin started to crawl when I saw J.R. fill the doorway. He paused just outside the threshold, his shrewd gaze taking everything in.

“Are you a vampire?” I asked. “Do you need to be invited in?”

A playful gleam filled his eyes. “I’ve been accused of being evil, but never a vampire. This evening could prove even more entertaining than expected.” He grinned as he walked inside. “Do you often invite evil to your door?”

I shrugged. “It depends. But I suspect you’re a whole brand of evil unto yourself, Mr. Simmons.” I tried to keep my tone light and playful.

Amusement created crinkles around his eyes as he crossed the room toward me. I’d just added another layer to the game and he was pleased. But his entire life was one long, continuous game. Everyone around him was a disposable object for him to manipulate for his own entertainment.

I despised him even more.

I waited until he stopped several feet in front of me before I stood, as if I were granting him an audience at my throne. I offered him my hand to shake, but he lifted it to his mouth, his lips brushing my knuckles. His eyes darted everywhere, taking in everything, from my shoes, to the doors, to Jed standing sentry behind me.

All within a matter of seconds.

Mick Gentry remained in the center of the room, seething, but he reminded me of a puppy tied to a stake. Despite how much the collar chafed, he knew his master.

J.R. straightened and narrowed his gaze on my veil, still holding my hand. He was close enough that he could probably make out the silhouette of my face. “I’m honored to meet you, Lady. May I call you that?”

I forced myself to remain calm. Jed had said I should focus my fear into doing my job, so I did just that. “Of course.”

“Please call me J.R.” He released my hand and moved over to the windows. He looked like he was taking in the view, but he was using the glass to study the room.

I sat back down and felt like I was going to be sick. All the preparation in the world couldn’t have prepared me to meet this man.

He was Darth Vader, and I was Jar Jar Binks.

What in the world had I been thinking?

Just as I started to panic, Jed’s hand squeezed my shoulder, giving me reassurance.

J.R. noticed too, of course.

I gracefully reached up and put my hand on Jed’s, stroking it lightly, as J.R. turned and gave us his full attention.

“Malcolm’s right-hand man is your lover?” he asked, amused. “Does he know?”

Oh, he was one sick and twisted man, all right. My anger rose up again. I was going to show him pain and suffering, but this time he would be on the receiving end.

I lowered my hand and gave an indifferent sideways wave. “Why would I care whether Mr. Malcolm knows or not?”

J.R. sat on the sofa—in the same exact position he’d taken in my vision—and gestured for Mick to sit next to him. “With pain comes power, Lady. Surely you’ve learned that by now.”

“Some of us have other methods of enforcing our rules.”

He grinned. “I’d love to learn all about your methods. I’m excited to learn everything about you.” His gaze landed on my cleavage before finding its way back up to my veil.

I cocked my head and grinned back. “Some things are better left to the imagination, Mr. Simmons.”

“J.R., please,” he said with a patronizing air. “And while that is true in many situations, I suspect that what you have hidden will far surpass my wildest imaginings.”

Could he know who I was?

“I must warn you, J.R., very few people are granted access to my private life. They must earn their way there.” I paused. “But I’m sure you follow the same rules.”

“I’ve never been much of a rule-follower, but I suspect I’ll break the few I have with you, Lady.” His grin turned wicked. “First and foremost, don’t mix business with pleasure.” He leaned his elbow on the arm of the sofa. “But then I’ve never understood the reasoning behind that rule. I take pleasure in everything. Particularly business.”

It was time to get this show on the road.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked, getting to my feet. I walked to the island and picked up the wine bottle. “This Cabernet is an exceptional treat. The boys found it in the wine cellar.”

Mick jumped to his feet. “That’s my damn wine! It’s worth five hundred dollars!”

J.R. ignored him. “I’d love some.”

I poured him a glass of wine and carried it over to him, purposely leaving the second glass on the counter.

“Where’s mine?” Mick asked, his face red with anger.

I tilted my head. “You, Mr. Gentry, are forgetting your place. You will wait patiently like Jed.” I stared him in the face, which lost some of its effectiveness with the veil, but it was enough to set him off. He moved closer to me, reaching for my neck.

“You touch her and you’re a dead man,” J.R. said calmly as he swirled his wine, then sniffed it.

Gentry stopped a few inches away from me, towering over me. I had no doubt he would strangle me in a heartbeat. The way he clenched and unclenched his fists was a strong clue.

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