My companions look at each other, then at me. “We do,” the only other woman beside Mrs. Lynx confirms, scooting closer to me until I am caged between the two of them. She picks a lock of my hair and rubs it between her fingers, sending a surge of shivers down my back.
Why is everyone touching me so much tonight?
She leans in, my heart racing like a beast in restraints. She’s too close, way too close.
I ball my hand into a fist, take a deep breath while maintaining my smile for earlier and…
A loud knock sounds, and the door opens abruptly. “Apologies for the delay. There was an accident at the bar with a guest,” Aran says as he steps in, his cheeks tinted pink and his manbun sticking out in sexy disarray.
His eyes dart to me immediately, alert and a little worried, and I instantly know that whatever held him up must have been very important. Their intensity envelops me in a silky cocoon, calming down my nerves and assuring me that I am safe no matter what might happen from now on.
I want to throw myself at him, but I push down that impulse. We’ll hug and make out as much as we want when we are back at our cabin. For now, we need to figure out where Eleanor is and why Mrs. Lynx pretends everything is in order when I’m pretty sure she didn’t even speak to my friend after that party. Otherwise, she’d know about the job proposal.
“Oh my! I hope it wasn’t anything serious…”
Eyes roaming me with unwavering focus, Aran dips his chin slightly. “Luckily not. The guest simply had one drink too many.”
I know what he’s doing—he’s looking for anything out of order, for any hints that something happened to me. He does it every time and I think it’s so automatic he doesn’t even realize it.
While internally fanboying over his dedication to me, I’m also glad that Mrs. Lynx’s hand isn’t on my leg anymore. The other woman startled the moment my savior walked in, straightening up as if she somehow knew that she’d be in gigantic trouble if Aran saw her invading my personal space. I got whiplash just watching her and now that I think about it, it appeared almost like she did it out of habit. Not that it matters to me—I’m just happy she’s not too close anymore.
Aran approaches the table which we are sitting around and holds the tray in front of himself, handing each person a drink. “This is a new drink that only Mrs. Lynx has tasted so far. I hope you enjoy it.” He walks back over to the door and rolls in a kitchen cart loaded with various bottles, a chopping board, ice and fruit. “I took the liberty of bringing a couple more things, as I’ve been working on a new cocktail. I hope you don’t mind being my first customers.”
The smile he flashes us causes me heart-palpitations. It’s sly and confident, flirtatious and inviting, a smirk like no other. It challenges you and it makes you want to take him up on that challenge, to see where he wants to take you.
They don’t stand a chance.
“Oh, how exciting!” one of the men cheers breathlessly. “What do you say, Mrs. Lynx?” The look he gives her is full of hackles-rising hunger that makes me bristle.
She hums thoughtfully and strokes Aran’s arm while squinting at me. “I suppose Hex could use another drink or two to relax…” In a quieter voice that’s meant only for him, she slides a wad of cash into his hand and adds, “Of course, everything that happens here, stays here. Do you understand?”
Aran’s gaze strays from me for the first time, turning seductive. “Of course, Mrs. Lynx.”
She crosses her legs, satisfaction touching every inch of her face. “Good boy. Perhaps you and I can have a chat a bit later—”
Uh, hello, how about no?And stop hitting on my man!
“More booze? Say no more!” I butt in, borderline homicidal. Things were fine and rosy when she wasn’t trying to flirt with Aran, but she just crossed a line she never should have crossed.
“That’s the spirit,” Mr. Lynx joins in, already slurring a little.
For a while, we enjoy our drinks over small talk. Aran is sent out to get some snacks at one point, and I’m left alone once again. It’s only for two minutes max, I know he’ll sprint both ways like his life depends on it, but I have a really bad feeling about this. Worse than before, like a storm is about to crash-land on me.
“Have you seen Eleanor? I’m getting worried,” I say after a while, hoping to get the woman talking now that she’s got a bit of a buzz going.
“Don’t worry about that, dear.” She waves me off dismissively, then pets my head.
I don’t like it. She’s been acting strange all evening, and it’s really giving me theick. It was easier to stomach it with Aran here, but as he’s stepped out, the bad and uncomfortable feeling is back in my stomach.
I open my mouth to excuse myself because of a bladder malfunction, when Mrs. Lynx says, “So, about your surprise…”
She snaps her fingers and the man sitting next to her husband produces a gift bag with a red ribbon from somewhere, and places it on the table. “This is for you. Open it.”
I love presents. The ones Aran has given me have never once disappointed me. But none of these people know me, so how would they know what I even like?
Still, it’s not in my nature to be intentionally rude, so I thank them with a smile and slide the gift closer to me. Then I look inside.
It’s a short but wide box wrapped in luxurious paper. I take it out and do a horrendous job of unwrapping it without ripping the paper. The box’s outside is black velvet, and it has a golden hook on the front. Lifting it, I open the lid.
