Deviant Knights (3 page)

Mentally running through her tiny, overly full
closet considering her options for the last minute invitation, she answered Michel’s
email with her agreement and then stood, seeing she’d left her front door wide
open in her panic to check her email.
 
Not a smart thing to do in the city.
 
She hoped it wasn’t the only stupid mistake she’d made today.

Chapter Two

Kadence
slid out of the taxi, adjusting the hem of her tight little black
dress while jostling the cardboard tube holding the canvas.
 
She was so glad she’d sprung for the outfit
after Michel had purchased one of her first paintings.
 
Of course, she’d bought it to go out on the
town with Jane, not expecting a night out with her benefactor.
 
Hopefully, it would do.
 
She wobbled a step as her heel caught in a
crack in the sidewalk.
 
Stilling herself,
she looked down at the six inch
Louboutin
knock-offs
she’d bought from a street vendor and hoped no one inside would be able to tell
the difference.
 
Not like she’d ever see
these people again.
 
This wasn’t the
typical crowd she rolled with.
 
Four
hundred dollar dinners were not in her budget.

Tonight she could pretend a little.
 
Here, she wasn’t a temp, working at whatever
office gig she could find to help pay the bills.
 
She wasn’t the girl who sometimes waited
tables with Jane to make ends meet.
 
And
she definitely wasn’t the girl who bought knock-off designer shoes from street
vendors.

No, tonight she was an artist dining at one of
the most exclusive restaurants on the
Upper West Side
with one of her patrons.
 
Thankfully,
with her past gig waiting tables, she would know which fork to use and not make
a total ass of
herself
.
 
At least, she hoped.

Nervous fingers spread down her dress one more
time, wanting to make sure that the hem covered the naughty lingerie she wore
tonight.
 
Jane had talked her into buying
the frilly under things, saying that every woman should have something sexy
with garters to make her feel hot.
 
On a
lark,
Kadence
had donned them before slipping into
her dress.
 
Now, she feared that everyone
would see what she had on and label her a harlot.
 
Quelling her fears, she shook her head to get
the thoughts to leave her be.
 
The silk
and lace made her feel sexy, feminine, and powerful.
 
So what if someone saw a peek of it?

Walking through the front door, she looked around
the restaurant and was a bit disappointed.
 
The sterile gray and brown walls didn’t excite her in the least, and it
was as quiet as a library.
 
She nearly
wished her heels would stop clack-clack-clacking over the floor.
 
She felt she might be disrupting the patrons
from their somber meals.
 
As she reached
the maître-d, she whispered her party name, wondering if he could hear her
jackrabbiting
heartbeat above the decibel of her voice.

The faux-French maître-d looked her over from
head to toe as if sizing her up, and she felt a pang of fear.
 
What if she didn’t measure up to her
client?
 
What if Michel took one look at
her and didn’t think she was the right “type” to be creating the artwork she
sold him?
 
What if she never got another
order from him?
 
She didn’t rely on his
money, as such, but it had been nice to be able to pay her bills on time and sneak
a little money into her savings as well.
 
Well, okay, maybe she had come to rely on him some.

“This way,” the maître-d spoke in hushed tones
after giving her the once over.
 
Falling
into step behind him, she saw the great expanse of windows that looked over
Central Park
.
 
No
wonder the walls were so plain, the real decoration was nature.
 
She wondered what it looked like in mid-day,
the sun streaming through the glass, the verdant greens of life on display for
all to see as they sipped their expensive champagne.
 
Birds, bees, and butterflies would flitter
by, the rich colors of spring and summer flowers peeking in.
 

She spread her fingers across her stomach to try
and quell her own wild butterflies raging there.
 
The maître-d stopped before a table, his wide
shoulders hiding the man she was there to meet.
 
She’d been so curious about the décor that she really hadn’t paid
attention to where they’d been heading.
 
Actually, she hadn’t even looked at the other patrons they passed, so
enthralled by the view of the park.
 
Even
in darkness, she’d seen the twinkling lights on the path, as well as the low
hanging moon illuminating the space, and had gotten a good idea of the beauty
it held.
 
The maître-d stepped to the
side of her chair, pulling it out for her, and she got her first view of the
man behind the table.

Smiling up at her, he was handsome, maybe more
so than she’d expected.
 
Dark brown hair
was slightly longer than was fashionable, with a hint of gray at the
temples.
 
His deep green eyes twinkled
with a wisdom she’d rarely seen before.
 
He quickly
rose
from his seat, holding out a
hand to her, his suit the very best cut of dark gray silk, the white of his
starched shirt made even brighter by his deeply tanned skin.
 
He was huge, towering well above her five-foot-ten
frame, and that was counting the heels, so he was easily six and a half feet
tall, if not more.
 
She stepped closer to
the table and placed her palm in his, and he lifted her fingers to his mouth,
dropping a quick kiss to them.

“
Enchanté
.”
His voice was a deep baritone, just as she’d expected, but she’d
never expected the slight French accent.
 
“I’m so lucky to finally have the pleasure to meet you,
Kadence
.”

The hard K he spoke when he enunciated her name
made her whole body stand up and take notice.
 
Her pussy warmed with the look of pure lust that filled his face.
 
Perhaps she’d been wrong about his sexual
persuasion.
 
God, she hoped so.
 
She looked into his stunning eyes and felt
lost in the depths.
  
The maître-d ruined
the moment with a cough, signaling her to sit.
 
She lowered into the seat and allowed the man to move her chair closer
to the table.
 
Once she looked up again,
Michel had seated himself and was waving over a waiter.

“A glass of champagne for the
lady,
s’il
vous
plaît
.”
 
Michel turned his focus back to her as soon
as the instruction was spoken.
 
He was a
man used to having his orders followed, and there was something very sexy about
that.
 
“I have instructed the staff to
bring us the nine-course chef tasting, so you can enjoy a sampling of their
delicacies.”

“Sounds delightful.”
 
She didn’t need food.
 
She just needed him to keep talking.
 
All.
Night.
Long.
 
His
voice was enough to give her an orgasm.
 

The waiter poured her a glass from the bottle of
Pernod-Ricard
Perrier-
Jouet
.
 
She suddenly felt uncomfortable.
 
The restaurant, the champagne, the money he’d
spent on her paintings…was he trying to buy her?
 
While the dream of finding a rich man to
whisk her out of her Cinderella life sounded good on paper, there was something
slightly off-putting about being bought outright.
 
She needed to ensure she wouldn’t get caught
up in the world he waved around her.

He sat back in his chair; his relaxed pose
showed a man who was at one with his surroundings.
 
But he didn’t have the affected demeanor of a
snob, either.
 
His suit, while well-cut,
had no tie and his shirt was open at the throat—he looked comfortable yet
sophisticated all at once.
 
She imagined
he would look just as relaxed in a seedy bar in the
West
Village
.
 
His inner grace was potent and made her feel
at ease as well.
 
Yet, at the same time,
she felt the smoldering lust that churned just below the surface, not just in
herself
, but emanating from him, too.

Looking down to the table, she noticed it was
set for three, not two.
 
A question
formed on her lips, but she was caught off-guard by his interjected
comment.
 
The richness of his voice
washed over her like fine liquor rolling down her tongue.

“I’m so happy you could make it tonight.”
 
His eyes twinkled with mirth and she felt
like sighing at the devastating smile he gifted her with.

“I appreciate the invitation.
 
I’ve been so curious about you.”

 
“As have I.”
 
He
steepled
his fingers before him, his
elbows resting on the sides of his chair as he stared longingly at her.
“How
long have you been painting?”

“I’ve painted nearly all my life. It’s always
calmed me.” It had.
 
It had been her
escape ever since she’d been a young girl.
 
Everyone needed a creative outlet.
 

“To find a way to improve your
life while doing what you love, even better.”
 
He lifted his glass and offered her a
toast.
 
They
clinked
glasses and
Kadence
took a hardy sip, trying to calm
her frayed nerves.
 
Once she settled her
glass, she felt heat rushing over her and she lifted her eyes.
 
He openly appraised her.

She felt her nipples tightening.

“Absolutely, I’ve always hoped to work doing
what I love, not just toiling to make money in order to live.”
 
She looked away, seeking the shelter of the
nighttime park once again.
 
His insistent
attention was making her flustered, his eyes boring into her.
 
She searched for things to say, something to
fill the strangling sexual tension that was already filling the space.
 
“I bet the view here in the daylight is
incredible.”

“I will have to bring you back some day to see it.”

The implied future event gave her pause.
 
Her heart leapt at the thought of more.
 
Michel had a physical pull, intriguing in a
sexual nature alone.
 
She wanted to know
more.
 
But, she also needed to keep a
firm foot near the brakes and not let a runaway train hit her.
 
She looked again at the third setting.
 
“Are we being joined?”

“
Oui
.
 
A friend of mine would also
like to meet you.
 
He’s become a fan of
your work, as well.”

“On that note, I have the art here.”
 
She handed him the container and quickly
tucked the envelope holding her payment into her small clutch after he handed
it over.
 
“May I ask you a question?”

“
Oui
.
 
Of
course.”

“What is it about my paintings that made you
want to purchase them?”
 
She leaned in,
placing her elbows on the table, even if it were a no-no.
 
She wanted to see his expression as he
answered her.

“I believe I can better answer that than
Michel.” A rich, deep voice sounded from behind her.
 

Kadence
twisted in her seat and looked over her right shoulder.

Expressively blue eyes were framed by a strong
brow and a straight nose.
 
His cheekbones
were high, but the firm, chiseled edge of his chin didn’t allow his face to
look feminine in any way.
 
Light, brown
hair was longer than what she usually liked in a man, but it looked right for
him.
 
A very tall, thick, muscled body
was something hard to rage against her softness.
 

It was the man from her dreams.
 
She felt her legs turn to rubber and her eyes
bug from her head.
 
Her lips parted as
she ogled the man.