9. Chapter 9
Laughter and cheerful conversation rang out above the beat of the music as we stepped inside Club Merryton.
Jack helped me remove my coat and handed it to a thin, balding man at the door.
Jack also removed his jacket, which gave me a glimpse of the label.
I was right, it was Armani. He must have borrowed it from Charles. Or Darcy.
I studied his shoulders. No, he was broader than both of them and the suit fit him much too well to belong to anyone else.
Charles had loaned me a guard for the evening, a serious young half-fae with a severe side part, who followed at a discreet distance so Jack could enjoy himself without worrying about watching over me.
“Want to dance?” Jack asked, eyeing the dance floor. It was full but not crowded, just how I liked it.
“Yes, but there’s someone I want to talk to first.”
We made our way up to the bar and I made eye contact with the bartender, a tall woman with abundant but expertly applied eyeliner and a lynx tattoo on her impressive biceps. A shifter, maybe?
She finished shaking the drink she was mixing, poured it into a glass, and served it to a male gnome with disheveled auburn hair but an immaculate beard. Once she’d served him and long-sufferingly admired the wristwatch he proudly showed her, she made her way back over to me. “What can I get you?”
“Information, actually,” I said. “I’m new to the area and I was wondering what you could tell me about Genevieve Charbonet.”
She tucked a strand of her purple undercut hair behind one heavily-pierced ear. “Not much. She used to come in here sometimes. Ran with a rough crowd, though.” She paused. “I might be able to remember more.”
I slipped a fifty-dollar bill across the counter, which she quickly slid into a leather apron pocket. “She was being blackmailed by a magical arms dealer. Not sure what dirt he had on her, but she worked for him for over a year.”
“Who was the dealer?”
She acknowledged a group of witches who approached the bar before leaning toward me. “Reggie McFarland,” she whispered.
I passed her another fifty. “What was he—”
She pushed the money back. “That’s all I know.
” I couldn’t tell if she didn’t know more or if she was unwilling to tell me, but either way her tone made it clear that I wasn’t going to get any more information about her tonight.
She turned her attention back to the witches and I stepped away from the bar.
Jack placed his hand on the small of my back, sending pleasant tingles all along my spine. “Any theories on why he might have wanted to kill her?”
I shook my head. “That’s a problem for Tomorrow Caroline. Right now I want to dance.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” His smile went from teasing to eager as we made our way to the dance floor. The music was fast and loud and the tension drained from me with each driving beat.
The last time I’d been here had been with Charles, Darcy, and Louisa.
I closed my eyes and remembered feeling carefree with my sister as I moved my body to the beat.
I hated that she’d tried to kill Jane, and I especially hated that she did it because, in her own twisted way, she was trying to take care of me.
It was fair that she was in jail, facing the consequences of her actions.
But here on the dance floor, I allowed myself to forget about what she’d done and just miss her.
She’d been there for me after Winston in a way nobody else had.
She’d even come to stay in Austen Heights for a few weeks to get me settled in.
A piece of my heart softened. Even though she’d made terrible choices, I loved her, and it was okay to miss her.
I opened my eyes and found Jack dancing close by.
He was good, and not just in the way all the fae were graceful.
He moved with the music, really feeling it.
I stepped closer to him, placing my hands lightly on his shoulders, needing to feel a connection with someone.
If I were being honest—wanting connection with him .
He brought one hand to my waist, pulling me in closer so I could hear him over the crowd. “You okay?”
“The last time I was here, I was with Louisa.”
“I’m sorry. Do you want to go?”
“No.” What I needed was to keep living my life, to lean into the things I loved, to make new memories.
He leaned closer and placed his forehead to mine. “Whatever you need, Vixen. I’m yours tonight.”
“Tonight is supposed to be your night off, remember? You don’t have to take care of me.”
He kissed me lightly on the forehead. “I’m yours tonight.”
“Then dance with me.”
The music pulsed and I surrendered to it, letting it flow through me, though us. We danced as though we had rehearsed the moves for weeks, as though we were one person. I’d never seen anything like Jack on the dance floor.
The song ended and he leaned in, his lips close to my ear. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”
“Practice and passion,” I said. “You?”
“Same.”
The next song began and we were in motion again. The energy of the music, Jack’s body moving with mine—it was a refuge from everything I’d experienced these past couple months. I never wanted it to end.
I don’t know how long we danced before Jack tugged my wrist and led me gently from the dance floor and into the VIP lounge. He handed me a chilled water bottle. “Drink this,” he said. The cold water was refreshing, and I drank the whole bottle in one gulp.
“How are your feet?”
“They’re fine.” I wasn’t lying. These shoes had been designed for my feet specifically and I’d broken them in over months.
“Good.” He took a long drag from a water bottle.
I watched his throat move as he finished drinking.
“What would you like now, Caroline?” he asked softly.
“Whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” he said, devouring me with his eyes.
I nodded slowly, not trusting my voice.
“And there will be no repercussions from HR tomorrow?”
“What happens at Club Meryton stays at Club Meryton.”
His laugh was deep and throaty and he advanced a step toward me.
“I seem to find myself in a club with the best partner I’ve ever had the privilege of dancing with.
And I definitely want to get her back out there again.
” He took another step toward me, so close now that I had to tilt my head up to look at his face.
“But there’s something I’d like to do first, if she’s amenable. ”
He slowly placed his hands on my hips and tugged me closer. I came up on my tiptoes as he bent his head down and brought his lips to mine. He kissed me slowly, thoroughly, and our lips moved like our bodies had out on the dance floor—perfectly synchronized as though we’d done this a thousand times.
“Now I’m at a loss,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Not only are you the best dancer I’ve ever known, but it turns out you’re also the best kisser.”
I tried not to smile, but I couldn’t hold it in. “Well, you’re in luck. I happen to like kissing just as much as I like dancing.”
I brought my lips back to his, ready to dive back into whatever it was we were starting, but a bright flash filled the room.
Jack turned, shielding me with his body, which hummed with tension.
I flipped on the overhead light, revealing the half-cocked smirk of the guy I kept seeing around town.
He dropped the camera he’d been holding and it swung back and forth on the strap around his neck as he put his hands in the air.
“Sorry to alarm you, I just needed a photo.” His voice was low and pleasant and he flashed a disarming smile.
Jack didn’t move from his protective position. “What are you doing here?”
The man extended a hand. “I’m Riley Robinson from the Sanditon Chronicle.”
I stepped out from behind Jack’s back. “You’re a reporter? That’s why you’ve been following me?”
Riley slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, which he handed to Jack. “I’m doing a story on the Bingleys and wanted to get a picture. You both look great, by the way. This will look really good in print.”
Jack took a step closer to Riley, threateningly. “And the other times you’ve been following her?”
I placed a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Please,” I whispered, stopping him with a hand on his arm, “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt in the name of protecting me.”
His shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. “Don’t ever bother Caroline again.”
“Sorry, mate, it’s just the nature of the job.” Was that a British accent? I hadn’t detected one before. “Enjoy your evening.” He gave a little wave as he walked out the door.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Jack said, pulling me to his chest.
“It's fine.” I used to secretly love getting chased down by photographers. The headlines would read, ‘Bingley Heiress Steps Out in High Fashion’ or ‘Caroline Bingley—Best Dressed at the Met Gala’. Now all they all want to cover is my fall from grace, or my sister’s.
I let him hold me for a long minute, then blew out a breath.
“I’d hoped it would take the press longer to find me in Austen Heights, but it’s not a problem.
” I stepped out of his embrace. “Besides, it could have been a lot worse. At least I look amazing tonight.”
The tension drained from his shoulders and he smiled. “You do look amazing. Are you ready to head home?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I want to dance some more.”
He grinned, taking my hand and leading me back out onto the dance floor.