Enigma: An Isaac Retelling by Shandi Boyes

Author:Shandi Boyes [Boyes, Shandi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skye High Publishing
Published: 2022-02-27T18:30:00+00:00

28

I slant my head when Isabelle cocks a brow. She isn’t amused by my dress-tying skills. She’s reminding me I failed to update her about my call with Hugo, grilling me for information without her kiss-swollen lips spilling a word, and she looks entrancing while doing it.

Once her dress is covering her sweltering curves, I mutter, “Hugo turned the cameras off the instant he knew you were coming to the club with me.” A rare smile inches my lips high. I’m not humored by Hugo’s antics, but I’m grateful his exasperating habit of always checking his surroundings saved Isabelle a ton of unneeded embarrassment. “At times, it’s like he knows me better than I know myself.”

A feverish heat treks through my veins when Isabelle’s eyes fire with admiration. It reminds me of the look she gave me before we were interrupted by the bothersome flash of the security system Hunter installed in all my clubs his first six months of employment as does the erotically satisfying taste of Isabelle’s arousal on my mouth.

Eager for a second taste, I curl my hand around Isabelle’s, then lead her toward the valet. The further we walk through the packed club, the tighter the front of my pants become. Knowing Isabelle is without panties is thrillingly satisfying, even more so since the dainty material is stuffed into my pocket. It announces the competition is over. The winner has been announced, and he is about to claim the ultimate prize.

I just need to get her out of this club before the envious stares directed at Isabelle have me clearing the floor by activating more than the fire alarm.

Jealously was never a problem of mine until Isabelle tumbled to my feet.

The rigidness in the air makes the night appear cooler than it is when we break onto the footpath out the front of 57. I assume the unease centers around the contrasting difference between Isabelle’s body temperature and the gusty New York evening but learn a lesson on making assumptions when a voice from my past thrusts me back in time. “The prodigal son returns.”

Ophelia’s father is in town, and the knowledge has me squeezing Isabelle’s hand so firmly, I’m hurting her instead of sheltering her from the danger. “Get in the car, Isabelle.” My tone is clipped and arrogant, awfully on par with the man I’ve been forced to portray the past six years because if I didn’t become Col’s rival, I would have become his victim just like every other member of his family.

With my blood hot, I spin around, bringing myself face to face with the man who blames me for killing his angel, blind to the fact he had hacked off her wings years earlier.

I’m not surprised to find Dimitri standing at Col’s left. Although he isn’t paying me any attention, his father’s glare more than makes up for his downfall. Hate is a strong word, but it describes my relationship with Col to a T. He blames me for Ophelia’s death more than I blame myself.

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