Chapter 35 Lark #2
“I bake. Cupcakes.”
That was the biggest lie I’d ever heard. We both smiled at each other.
“Thorne, there was a body found in the Blade,” Detective MacKade said. “A male, who it turns out, was responsible for the rape and murder of some sex workers.”
“That’s terrible,” Bastian said. “I’m guessing he won’t be missed.”
The detective grunted. “There were reports of a man in the area at the time. In a suit. He matched your description.”
Bastian smiled. “I imagine there are hundreds of dark-haired men wearing suits in Las Vegas. Why would I be in the Blade?”
“A good question. Apparently, he was in the company of a short woman with dark hair.” MacKade’s gaze shifted to me.
I let my eyes go huge. “You mean me? Oh, boy, are we suspects? I’ve never been a suspect before.” I looked at Bastian and saw his gaze dancing. “This is exciting.” I turned back to the detective. “I could never harm a fly, I swear.”
The man’s wife made a sound.
“It’s best for members of the public to leave the police work to the police,” MacKade said to Bastian.
“Of course.” Bastian inclined his head. “We appreciate the hard work of our local police.”
“I know. I’ve seen how much you donate to the LVMPD Foundation.”
Bastian stiffened. “That was supposed to be anonymous.”
“It is. I just did a little digging.” MacKade lifted his chin and tugged his wife closer. “Now, I think I’ll get myself a drink and enjoy the party.”
“Nice to meet you.” I winked at him. His lips twitched before he and his wife walked away. “That was fun.”
“MacKade is a smart and tenacious detective. Be careful of him.”
“And his wife?”
“No idea, but be careful of her too.”
We wandered some more, stopping when people caught Bastian’s attention. He was polite and charming, but never stopped anywhere too long. I noted he kept scanning the room.
Still no Dean.
While he was talking with some businessmen, I turned and tried to keep a lid on my growing impatience. What the hell was he waiting for?
A male server walked past with a loaded tray. I saw the instant he tripped. He bobbled the tray, trying desperately to save the drinks. I jumped to the side as several glasses toppled. Some champagne splashed on the hem of my dress, and the glasses rolled across the carpet.
“I’m so sorry,” the man said from behind his mask.” He patted at the stain on my dress. “Please, let me get some soda water on that so it doesn’t stain.”
“It’s fine.”
The man set the tray on a table. “Please. If my boss finds out, I’ll lose my job.” He took my arm. “It’ll only take a minute.”
Was this Dean? I studied him more closely. The bare chest was firm and waxed of any hair. He looked to be in his twenties, so he couldn’t be Dean.
“No, really, I—”
He tugged firmly. “I insist.”
Bastian still had his back to me. I really didn’t want to cause a scene.
“Look, I’m not going to tell your boss, so—”
“I believe the lady said no. She’s fine.”
The smooth male voice held a cool British accent.
I looked up, and if I wasn’t involved with Bastian, this man would have snagged my attention.
He had a classic Greek-God face with a square jaw, delineated cheekbones, and sea-blue eyes.
His hair wasn’t sure if it wanted to be light brown or blond, and was styled impeccably.
He looked like he’d been born wearing his tuxedo.
He tugged me away from the server.
“Okay, if you’re sure.” The costumed man grabbed his tray and headed back into the crowd.
I turned to face my rescuer.
He shot me a charming smile. Bastian’s smile was pure sex, but this man’s was filled with charisma underscored with an undertone of amusement. “You’re a pretty thing.”
I raised a brow. “And you look like you’d match the casting call for the next Superman remake, or James Bond movie.”
He chuckled. “Thank you, Ms. Smith.”
“Just stating a fact, Mr. Archer.”
Rafe Archer was in my files. He was the final member of Bastian’s band of merry assassins. A former MI6 assassin with a penchant for collecting expensive artwork.
“I’ve been wondering how long it would take Bastian to pull his head out of his arse when it came to you.”
“Oh?”
His smile flashed again and he took my hand. “I could tell anytime he spoke about you that you meant something to him.”
I felt heat in my cheeks.
“Rafe, are you trying to steal my girl?” Bastian appeared and slid an arm around my waist.
“Maybe.” Rafe bent his head over my hand and kissed my knuckles. “She’s very pretty, and from what I hear, good with a knife.”
“Don’t try and piss me off.” Bastian tugged my hand back. Then he grinned at his friend. “Glad you’re back.”
“Me too. I go away for a month, and Nash is in love, and you have a pretty assassin in your bed.” He lowered his voice. “I hear we’re expecting trouble tonight.”
Bastian nodded. “Did Nash update you?”
“He did.” Rafe tipped his head and pointed to his earpiece.
“Be on the lookout.”
“Of course.” He glanced at me again. “Lark, if you need anything, you only have to ask.”
“Thank you.”
“And if you come to your senses and get sick of Bastian, come find me.” He winked. “I have a nicer car than all the ones in his gaudy collection.”
“You do not,” Bastian groused.
“An Aston Martin Vantage, in Skyfall silver. Blisteringly fast and to-die-for gorgeous.”
“Can I drive it?” I asked.
“No,” Bastian said. “Go away, Rafe.”
With another smile, Rafe sauntered toward the bar. Several women turned to watch him go.
“I’m glad he’s back,” Bastian murmured. “He’s good in a fight. We’re ready, now we just need our target.”
I spotted Cole in the crowd. No bowtie or monkey suit for him, but his black suit looked good on him, although it did nothing to hide his rough edges.
Alessio slipped past, like a shark moving through deep water.
He was dressed all in black. Black shirt, black vest, black jacket.
Landon was near the bar in a white tuxedo jacket that looked outrageously good on him. He lifted his glass at us.
Bastian’s friends were all alert, watching for Dean.
Now, we just needed him to slither out.
Come on, Dean. Let’s dance.