Regan was medium height, with short dark brown hair, blue eyes and, unlike Bryson, was completely naked and leaning against the breakfast counter, hands outstretched on either side of him.
“What are you doing here, Regan?” Bryson asked.
Regan jutted his chin toward the now shut door. “Thank you for that, my Mistress is rather finicky with the rules.”
The silver fox was his Mistress.
Regan moved to the other side of the kitchen. “I’m trying to find a kettle.”
“For what?”
“Tea.”
Bryson looked back at the still closed door. “They’re already drinking it.”
Regan looked at him with a curious expression. “What if they need more?”
Bryson shook his head. “Right, umm, second cabinet on the left.”
Regan moved through the kitchen gracefully, remaining silent except for the sound of water pouring from the faucet and the gentle clang of the kettle setting on the stove.
When he was finished, he pushed his bare ass onto the quartz counter and sat.
“We eat there, you know,” Bryson said, getting irritated with the guest.
“This is a nice place. Loretta’s is nicer, bigger, too, but I like the decor here,” Regan said.
Bryson didn’t think he could handle any more banter, so he moved to the side entrance.
“Are you getting nervous?” Regan asked, from behind him.
Bryson paused in the doorway.
“For the preview? Loretta showed me the guest list, a lot of big names on there,” Regan said from behind him.
Bryson turned. Now Regan was lying on the breakfast counter, one knee bent, gazing at the Crawford ceiling.
The preview was in a week. Adria had only told them about it a few nights ago. She even tried to sell them some line about selling them to the buyer of their choosing if they behaved. Not that Bryson believed a word she said.
“You saw the guest list?” Bryson said, walking back.
Regan nodded, still looking at the ceiling. His body was lean, like Bryson, except Regan was a little better filled out in the shoulders and arms. His face was square, he had the build of a wrestler.
“Who are the big names?” Bryson asked, looming over him.
Regan shook his head. His large breath out caused his abdomen to contract, showing his ribs and the contour of his navel. “I shouldn’t say, Loretta wasn’t even supposed to show me. But she does because I’m her favorite.”
Regan looked at him then.
Seth’s eyes were a pale blue, almost gray in the right light, but these were a deep hue that hit Bryson like a punch to the face.
Eyes said a lot about a person, and Regan’s eyes sent alarm bells ringing in Bryson’s head.
He was dangerous.
Bryson had grown up around dangerous men, and he knew the difference between all talk and business. And Regan was all business. But, having lived with one his whole life, Bryson knew how to handle the dangerous ones.
Bryson didn’t understand why, but he got people. Afew minutes with them and the pieces presented themselves.
