Page 39 of Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy 2)
Scar has to be waiting outside. I wasn’t supposed to work late.
Mount will know.
I’m not naive enough to think that there’s any way in hell he won’t have Jeff’s name, address, Social Security number, and complete bio by the time Scar delivers me back to my cage.
Mount will probably even know what brand condom Jeff used when he screwed me—terribly, I might add—in the back of his dad’s Caddy when I was seventeen.
“I’ll take another look at the presentation your assistant sent in advance, and will wait for you to let us know when you’re ready to rock. I think this could be really great, Keira. We could use another attraction off Bourbon Street for people who don’t just want to party. This would be educational, and they can taste some fantastic hometown whiskey.”
He raises his glass to mine, and I force the smile to stay on my face as I clink my glass with his, sending up a prayer for his safety as I down the contents.
“I hate to end this dinner, and the great conversation, but I have another appointment I have to get to. Thank you so much, Jeff. Temperance will be in touch as soon as we have the details sorted out for you.”
I stand up, smoothing my skirt, and Jeff rises from his side of the booth and steps forward to wrap me in a hug.
“It’s good to see you again, Keira. It’s been too long. I hope next time we can do a little more catching up instead of just talking business.”
I nod because that’s the only response I can give, hoping I’m not signing his death warrant. “We’ll definitely be in touch. You should stay and have another drink. On me.”
“Maybe you could reschedule your next appointment and join me?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t.”
The wattage of Jeff’s smile dims a few degrees, but I keep mine firmly in place as I give him a final nod. I turn and cross the restaurant floor, blindly smiling at other patrons, but don’t stop to speak to anyone before I hit the elevator.
It seems to take forever to descend to the basement level, and my foot taps impatiently in the slightly less provocative shoes Mount left in the closet for me today.
When the doors finally slide open, I rush down the hall and shove open my office door, mumbling to myself. “I just need to get my purse, get to Mount, and explain—”
“Explain what, exactly?”
The familiar deep voice comes out of the darkness. My heart hammers in my chest, and I slam my hand over it.
“Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me.”
“I should. Because you have thirty seconds to explain why you’re having dinner with your high-school fuck buddy instead of returning early like I ordered.”
“It wasn’t like that—”
Mount flips on the desk lamp, reminding me of the first time I saw him sitting in my chair. Then, terror like I’d never experienced raced in my veins. Tonight, I definitely feel fear, but not for myself. For someone else.
“Get over here.”
As I cross the cracked floor, each click of my heels seems to echo in the otherwise silent room. “He’s not—”
“I changed my mind. I don’t want a fucking explanation. I want y
our ass in front of me right now.” The chair scrapes against the concrete as Mount shoves away from the desk and stands.
I clamp my lips shut, not wanting to piss him off, but also not willing to let Jeff suffer consequences he had no clue existed. My feet move at Mount’s command as I explain anyway.
“It was business. He’s innocent, I swear to God. Leave him alone.”
I don’t realize I’m within arm’s reach until Mount wraps a hand around my wrist, pulling me against his chest.
“Innocent? Do you really think his thoughts were virtuous when he looked at you? Not fucking likely.”
“It was business,” I say again. “Please don’t hurt him. He did nothing to deserve it.”
