Blood Rites: (Royal Blood #3) (7 page)

Stepping into the gallery, I
was instantly greeted with a glass of champagne. A woman was
holding the silver tray, her gaze running up and down my body
before smiling. No guesses what she wanted. She was pretty enough,
with blonde hair done up into a tight braid, her crisp, white shirt
and tailored skirt gave away a lean figure with nice breasts. Maybe
I’d consider doing her out the back, quick and hard, but that was
another version of myself.

I took the flute of champagne from the tray
with a curt nod and moved off into the gallery, disregarding the
confused frown from the waitress. Scanning the groups of people
gathered around various paintings, I couldn’t see a trace of
Lorelei. I hardly recognized anyone for that matter. This was a
different crowd than I was used to, but that wasn’t necessarily a
bad thing.

Wandering through the soft
light of the gallery, I examined each painting, not quite
understanding the lure of abstract art. It was all splashes,
texture and blending. If there was any meaning in that, it went
straight over the top of my head and off into the
distance.

Rounding a corner, my gaze
instantly latched onto the woman I was so desperate to see. Lorelei
stood to the rear of the space, her aura drawing me closer. I
downed the rest of my champagne and dumped the glass onto a passing
tray, without so much as a thank you.

I watched her talking to an
older couple and smiled. The man looked like he had a substantial
amount of money, the wife looked like an accessory. Lorelei was
spinning her sale with extreme grace and skill and I instantly knew
that she’d been the woman who’d secured this exhibition. Knowing
she was good at her job just captured my interest even more. That
was something I could respect.

She gestured to the painting, using her
hands to express her emotions and the couple were hooked on her
every word. I didn’t care what she was saying, she would captivate
me whatever she did.

I turned to the painting next
to me, allowing my gaze to roam the surface of the canvas. If I
were actually to invest, then this would most likely be a good
piece to begin with. Medium size, interesting texture, it stood out
from the rest.
Just like she did
.

The air shifted beside me and I
knew it was her. All of a sudden, the air felt thick, the sexual
tension I’d felt the night of the party rampant.

“It’s a lovely piece,” she said, not
realizing who she was talking to. “Are you interested in
investing?”

Glancing at her, I replied, “Yes. Yes, I
am.”

Her gaze met mine and her expression
dropped. A flush crept into her cheeks and knowing that I was
responsible made it tug at more than my cock.

“Vaughn,” she said with a sigh.

“
Lorelei.” I let my gaze roam
her body, noticing the way her black dress hugged every curve of
her petite frame.

“I—”

“I understand,” I said, interrupting before
she could hand me some ill-thought excuse.

“You understand?” she asked, confused.

“
I came on
much too strong.” She flushed, glancing at the painting. She was
embarrassed. “I tend to be a little…
overzealous
when I want something.
Someone
.”

She sighed. “I’ll say.”

“When you didn’t call—”

“I’ve been busy,” she said, interrupting me
this time. “The opening… I haven’t made up my mind.”

“I see.” I glanced back to the painting.

“Are you interested in investing?” she asked
again, her voice slightly breathless.

“I am.” I nodded slightly. “I’ve not
invested much in art before.”

“Well, you’ve chosen a good night to
begin.”

I inched closer. “I understand this artist
is quite popular at the moment. Do you see that popularity
increasing?”

“Yes,” she murmured, her gaze fixed onto the
painting, her chestnut eyes caressing each brushstroke.

I allowed my finger to lightly brush the
back of her hand, the contact electrifying my skin. She didn’t move
away and I continued to tease her, to tempt…

“
You asked…” I
breathed deeply. “
Do you feel it, too
?” I turned to face her, and she was staring back,
her eyes wide. “I do. Don’t you want to explore
that?”

She swallowed hard, then bit her bottom
lip.

“Either I must be a fool or you are trying
to deny it,” I said, darkly. “Which is it, Lorelei? Put this fool
out of his misery.”

She glanced at me, then over my shoulder,
panic beginning to flood her features. So, she wanted escape?

“Mother, Father,” she exclaimed, stepping
around me.

Shit, the
parents
.
Didn’t see that one coming.

“Lorelei, darling,” purred a woman’s voice
and I turned, placing a mask of nonchalance across my features. She
glanced at me, then Lorelei, a question in her eyes.

“
Oh, this is
Sebastian Vaughn…a
client
.” She narrowed her eyes slightly as she glanced at me.
“Mr. Vaughn, these are my parents. My father, Gregory
Lansford.”

Her father looked me over, his
expression stone. He was quite tall, heavily built, salt and pepper
hair and a hard expression. He was cool and collected, right down
to his tailored three-piece steel gray suit.

“Ah, Mr. Lansford,” I said, grasping his
hand, now understanding why most people found him intimidating.
“Very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Mr. Vaughn.” His eyes narrowed and I knew I
had a lot of ground to make up if I wanted his respect. He was a
man who was fiercely protective of his daughter. I could see it in
the way he carried himself.

Lorelei gave him a pointed look before
gesturing to her mother. “And this is my mother, Grace
Lansford.”

Taking her hand, I smiled. “Mrs. Lansford. A
pleasure.”

“All mine,” she said, assessing me with a
warm smile. Assessing for breeding, most likely.

“Your daughter has done brilliantly with the
opening, don’t you agree?” I asked, playing to her mother’s
charms.

“Yes, indeed,” Mr. Lansford interrupted.
“What is it you do exactly, Mr. Vaughn?”

So, the interrogation begins.
“I work in Financial Investment in the City.”

He narrowed his eyes like he didn’t think I
actually had a job at all. My reputation never seemed to include my
business dealings, just the dealings of my cock. I understood the
man’s trepidation of allowing his daughter to associate with the
likes of me.

“Are you good at it?” he asked.

“
Gregory
,” Mrs. Lansford exclaimed.

I offered a smile before
saying, “I am very good at my job, Sir. My role is senior and I am
under consideration for a partnership, if a more controlling
interest in the company is where I wish to climb.”

“That’s a bit arrogant for a man of your
age.”

Lorelei’s mouth dropped open
slightly. “
Father
,” she hissed.

“Age has nothing to do with being good at
one’s job, Sir,” I replied without hesitation. “A talent can be
used to great effect at any age.”

He glared, his disapproval more than
obvious.

Lorelei stepped in-between us. “If you will
excuse us, I am assisting Mr. Vaughn in the purchase of a painting.
I’m sure he doesn’t want to be kept.”

“Of course, darling,” her mother purred as
her father glared at me.

“
A pleasure,” I said, inclining
my head. For good measure, and a little to piss him off, I extended
my hand to Mr. Lansford. He grasped it a little too tightly than
was acceptable and shook.

As they moved off to inspect the rest of the
collection, Lorelei turned back to me, her cheeks flushed. “I
apologize,” she said. “My father can be a little…”

“Protective.” Her eyes widened and I smiled.
“I understand. I don’t have the best of reputations. I was a little
wild when I was younger and it has followed me around to this day.”
It wasn’t a lie, I just omitted the part where ‘a little younger’
was only a week ago.

She cast her gaze to the floor.

“You haven’t answered my question,” I
murmured.

She sighed, glancing at the painting. She
was embarrassed or in the least, self-conscious. There was no need
to be.

“Will you at least consider having dinner
with me?” I asked.

Lorelei hesitated, her gaze flickering
across the room.

“How many paintings would you like me to
buy?” I prodded. “All of them?”

“Are you trying to get my attention?” she
asked with a scowl.

“
Yes.” I grinned and her
expression softened as she began to laugh, the sound of it music to
my ears.

“It’s a bit much,” she said. “I’ve never
been sent flowers or had a collection bought out by a playboy
millionaire before.”

“Billionaire,” I corrected and she laughed
harder. “And if a man has never sent you flowers then I apologize
for men everywhere. You deserve them every single day.”

“Smooth,” she said, her cheeks flushing yet
again.

“Tomorrow evening?” I asked, knowing that
I’d worn her down.

She sighed, glancing across the room.
“Fine.” Then she smiled a secret smile. “But you have to buy this
painting first.”

A wicked grin pulled at my lips. “Done.”

Ten

Lorelei

I stared at the limousine on the street
outside my apartment and shook my head.

If Vaughn was trying to impress
me with his wealth, then he was going about it the wrong way. I had
plenty of my own money.

I’d spent the day at the
gallery getting things back into order after last night's opening.
It’d been a great success with more than half of the collection
already spoken for. I had no doubt that the rest would be sold by
the end of the week. There had already been a report in the
Telegraph
about it. Our
client was happy, our buyers were happy, the media was lapping it
up… This was the beginning of great things for Space
Gallery.

Despite all the things I
should’ve been celebrating, the only thing I could think about all
day was my impending date with Sebastian Vaughn. My hands shook, I
was nervous as all hell, I’d spaced out and flushed a million
bloody times thinking about our first kiss. First… Oh fuck. If he
kissed me again, I was a goner.

The bell on my door rang and I sucked in a
deep breath, my heart flip-flopping around in my chest.

I glanced at my reflection in
the mirror one more time, a haphazard pile of discarded clothes
piled on my bed behind me. I’d decided on a fitted red dress, the
same color as I’d worn to the party but in a more subtle
silhouette. The neckline was high, the waistline was fitted and the
pencil skirt rested at the midpoint between my bum and my knee. I
finished off the simple ensemble with a pair of three-inch, black
patent heels and a black clutch covered in matching crystals. My
hair was done up in an elegant ponytail, my makeup simple. This was
more…
me
.
Classy and elegant.

Clattering ungracefully down the stairs, I
opened the front door and Vaughn was on the other side, a stupid
smile on his face. I couldn’t help it when I stopped mid-stride and
almost tripped into him. Truthfully, I was expecting his driver to
be waiting for me, not this beautiful man in a tailored dark suit,
cream shirt and silver tie. Vaughn exuded sex and power and it
knocked me flat every time I saw him.

A grin pulled at his perfect mouth and he
held out his arm.

“Hi,” he murmured, when I just stood there
staring like an idiot.

Shaking my head, I closed the door behind me
and slipped my arm through his. “Hi.”

“You look beautiful,” he murmured as he
escorted me to the limousine.

“Thank you.”

His burly friend, whose name I now knew to
be Hawkes, opened the door for us and I ducked into the car,
sliding along the seat. Vaughn settled beside me and suddenly we
were alone.

He slipped his hand into mine and I
shivered, watching as his fingers tightened around mine.

Instead of focusing on his touch, I tried to
take in my surroundings. Two black leather seats ran up either side
of the interior, a small alcove for a bar at one end. The seat we
occupied spanned the rear of the car, a row of lights running right
up the middle to the partition that separated us from Hawkes. We
were one hundred percent on our own back here and the more I took
in, the more I realized that I wanted him.

“We don’t have far to go,” he said. “I know
a restaurant that I think you will enjoy. It’s quiet and the food
is brilliant.”

I glanced at him, my cheeks heating. “Sounds
good.”

He smiled, tightening his grip on my hand.
Images of our kiss came flooding back as his thumb began to stroke
across my knuckles and I was suddenly glad that we didn’t have very
far to go. Being in a confined space with the man who’d dominated
my sexual fantasies for the past two weeks was wearing down my
self-control.

Just as I was about to suggest skipping
dinner, the limo pulled up out the front of a little restaurant.
Through the window I could see it was trendy and minimal, the
tables full with patrons smiling and laughing, wine glasses in
hand.

Vaughn opened the door and
stepped out into the night air then offered me his hand. I slid out
beside him, stumbling slightly and I fell against him.

“Careful,” he murmured, his breath
fluttering my hair.