Page 10 of The Saint (Gentlemen Rogues 3)
Well, I would deal with that when I came to it. Besides, I could grab a weapon, right? I saw some knives on the table that would make excellent defense weapons.
You really did not think this through very well.
Okay, fine. I'd walked into this auction situation not having thought it through.
After Connor’s latest bid, a hush fell over the room. Everyone whispered and tittered around. There was a dark-skinned black woman sitting on the other side of Mr. Green Eyes, between him and another man who was equally good-looking. He had dark curly hair, and he looked familiar. Why did he look familiar? Maybe he was an actor or something. But he was jaw-dropping. That bloke leaned over and kissed her shoulder, and she smiled up at him. Her smile was incandescent. They were in love. And then they whispered something about Green Eyes because he turned to look at them and just shook his head and kept his paddle up.
Connor too. Finally, Jennifer called out, “Gentlemen, I thank you for a very interesting evening. We are up to fifty-thousand pounds. Do I hear fifty-one?”
Connor kept his paddle up. The beautiful woman sandwiched between the two men lifted her brows, her dark skin glowing under the light in the ballroom. She was beautiful. It was as if several models had turned up from fashion week just for this auction. Green Eyes was about to put up his paddle again, but then she shook her head and whispered again. He sighed, and then gave me a look that said he was sorry and disappointed.
Jennifer glanced from him to Connor and back to Green Eyes again. "We are currently at fifty-one thousand. Do we have any other takers at fifty-two?"
When Green Eyes shook his head, she banged the gavel down. "And we have closed the bidding at fifty-one-thousand pounds. Mr. Phelps, we are beyond thrilled by your most generous donation." Everyone clapped. I did a little curtsy, and then I waved at Jennifer, who indicated she'd be right down at the bottom of the stairs to tell me where I was supposed to go meet Connor.
When she joined me, I was searching the crowd, hoping I could just grab Connor without even having to go to a room with him, but I knew that I needed the privacy. "Come with me. You'll wait over here for Mr. Phelps."
"So just like that, I'm being handed off as a prize?"
"Oh, I know, auctions are a little déclassé and problematic. I get it. But they're fun. And for the Almed Fund, that's fifty-one-thousand pounds. Not that Mr. Phelps didn't already give a generous donation. But this is even more. We will gladly take it."
"All in the name of charity, I suppose."
"See, you get it. Just wait here ten minutes. Mr. Phelps should be right by."
The moment she was gone, I started pacing. I could just wait for him to show up, but what if he didn't?
Maybe it was better to be proactive.
I opened a door, and there were people bustling about, jogging somewhere. There was a woman all dressed in black and she had an earpiece in, just like Jennifer did. "I'm sorry, I've been waiting for Mr. Phelps. Can you tell me if he has a room assigned back here?"
"Yeah, it's just down there. Turn left at the end of the hall."
"Thank you, I really appreciate it."
She nodded and then headed off. Clearly, something was going on with the event. As I marched down the hall, nobody seemed to notice me or tried to stop and ask me where the hellI was going. When I arrived at the door she’d indicated, I took a deep breath. I could do this. Where was his security anyway?
Maybe they weren't allowed backstage. But that seemed unusual. I knocked on the door, and I could hear some muffled noises in the background. "I got tired of waiting for you. Are you in there?"
I hoped that sounded seductive, although I was pretty sure I sounded tight and anxious. I knocked again, and when I tried the door handle, it swung open. But it wasn't Connor Phelps who opened it. It was the other green-eyed bloke. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was told that this was Mr. Phelps's room. Is he here?"
Green Eyes grinned at me and then braced his arms on the door frame. "I'm the only one here, sweetheart. This is my room. No Mr. Phelps."
I laughed. "Oh, come on, where is he?"
I’d noted the tie that Connor had been wearing earlier, black with subtle gray polka dots on it. It was on the dressing table. "That's his tie. Where is he?"
He shrugged. "Sorry. I don't know what to say. I'm the only one here. I hate to break it to you, but I'm your date."
CHAPTER 3
SAINT
He wasn't supposedto fight back.
The assignment was meant to be easy. Pick up Lohman, interrogate him, and take him back to Rogues Division for processing. For years, Connor Lohman had been a midlevel enforcer for Antonio Igno, embedded deep in the organization. He knew where lots of bodies were buried.
A few years ago he’d leveled up, making it to adviser status. But the only way to do that was with blood or intel. And Lohman was notoriously squeamish. So what intel had gotten him even closer to the emperor?
