Caress of Pleasure by Julie Kenner

Author:Julie Kenner [Kenner, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Julie Kenner, erotic, J. Kenner, paranormal, 1001 Dark Nights
Publisher: Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
Published: 2015-04-26T16:00:00+00:00

* * * *

Dante leads me through the first floor of his brownstone to a sunroom that opens up onto a courtyard. That courtyard connects to another brownstone, and it is into that building that we enter. “The front is a private club—scotch and cigars, jazz and conversation,” he says. “Dark Pleasures.”

“I’ve heard of it,” I admit. “It has a reputation for being both excellent and exclusive. You’re a member?”

“One of the owners,” he says. He looks at me. “I have been for a very long time.”

“Even when you lived in London?”

“Even then.”

I nod, taking in the simple fact that I don’t know this man as well as I had thought. I think that is what he is trying to show me in his not so subtle way. But it doesn’t matter. I know the core of him. I’ve known that since the first moment I looked into his eyes when he brought me a glass of wine and told me I looked like sunshine. I’ve known it since our first meal when he brushed a dab of ketchup from the corner of my mouth and I shivered all the way down to my toes. I think I’ve known it since our first touch, our first kiss.

I exhale, forcing myself to shake off my melancholy as I follow him to an old-fashioned elevator with a cage-style door. We step in, then rise to the third floor, the gears creaking as we move. “The club takes up the first and second floors,” he says. But the third is office space, for both the club and Phoenix Security.”

I nod. That job I remember. “You’re still with the company?”

His grin is almost a smirk. “I think it’s fair to say that I’m a lifer.”

I cock my head. “You own that company as well?”

“A piece of it, anyway.”

He points to the floors above us as the elevator slows to a stop. “Four is reserved for guests. Five is my friend Raine’s private apartment. Odds are good he’ll be at the meeting.”

I nod, trying to remember it all. I’m not sure why it matters, though. He’s sharing life trivia when he has already made it clear he has no interest in sharing a life.

I follow him down a balcony-style hallway that overlooks what obviously used to be the grand ballroom in this converted brownstone. The last door is polished oak, and it has a brass placard identifying it as the office of Phoenix Security.

We enter and step into a classy, polished reception area. A dark-haired man with a lean, bad-boy appearance, who looks like he could be Hollywood’s new hot thing, steps in from a door on the far side. He’s wearing jeans and a black T-shirt with a white phoenix embroidered on the breast pocket. “You must be Brenna. I’m Malcolm Greer.” He steps forward and I shake his hand. “Glad you’re helping us out.”

“Happy to,” I say, glancing sideways at Dante.

“Mal is one of the company presidents,” Dante says. “With Liam,” he adds, pointing to a linebacker-sized man with a wide smile and serious eyes.

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