Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(104)

Keeping her pace measured, she wound her way through the wooden booths and small tables that glowed beneath the discreet lighting set in the open-beamed ceiling.

Once she reached the open space reserved for bar patrons, it was easy to spot the odd man out.

It wasn’t just his hand-tailored suit that fit his lean body like a glove, or the perfectly trimmed silver hair that framed his lined, still-handsome face. It was the way he held himself, and the cool arrogance with which he studied his surroundings.

He might as well have rich bastard stamped on his forehead.

Certainly not one of their usual fun-loving, free-spirited customers.

Angling so she would approach him from behind, Regan opened her senses and breathed in deeply. The stranger certainly smelled like a human. Not even a hint of demon blood. Odd considering most successful business owners were at least part imp.

Of course, that didn’t mean she was going to lower her guard.

“Mr. Rosewood?”

The older man turned smoothly, a charming smile already curving his lips. A smile that didn’t hide the shrewd intelligence in his dark eyes.

“Please, call me Charles.”

“Tobi said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, Ms…?”

“Regan,” she said shortly, not bothering to hide her suspicion.

“Regan.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “A beautiful name for a beautiful young woman.”

Regan allowed his grip to linger before pulling her hand free.

Yep. Definitely human.

“How can I help you?”

He waved a manicured hand toward the etchings in the pub window. “You did those?”

“Yes. Tobi lets me sell them here on commission to make some extra cash. Is there a problem?”

“Quite the opposite. I find them enchanting.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was polite, guarded. “Were you interested in buying one of them?”

“Actually, I’m interested in selling them.”

“Selling?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“As I said, I find them enchanting, but more importantly, I’m certain my customers will find them enchanting.” Almost as if a switch had been thrown, his expression went from charming to astute. “How fast do you work?”

Regan blinked, sensing she was about to be hit by a steamroller.

“I can do one or two smaller sketches in a day. The larger ones take at least two days.”

“So…four smaller sketches and two large sketches in a week?”

“Something like that.”

“Good.” He regarded her steadily. “I want to buy them.”

“All of them?”

“All of them, every week. And I’m willing to pay top dollar for exclusive rights to your work. Shall we say—” He reached down to pluck his business card from her hand, and retrieving a pen from his pocket, he wrote on the back. Then with a faint smile he shoved it back into her hand. “How’s that as a starting figure?”

Steamroller, indeed.

No wonder the man owned half of Chicago. The poor imps didn’t have a chance.

Bemused by the man’s brisk, decisive manner, Regan glanced down at the card, her heart nearly halting at the figure he had scrawled on the card.

“Christ.”

“Here.” Reaching toward the bar, Charles poured a large shot of whiskey into a glass and handed it to her. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“Thanks.” She downed the whiskey in one fiery gulp. “It’s just a shock.”

“A good shock, I hope?” he murmured.

“Yes, I…” Abruptly, Regan was hit by the unwelcome reminder, that “if it seemed to good to be true…” motto. This sudden windfall seemed all too convenient. “Wait. You don’t happen to know Styx, do you?”

“Styx?” The man frowned in confusion. “As in the mythical river?”

“What about Jagr?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of them. Are they local artists?”

She grimaced. His confusion seemed genuine enough.

“Never mind.”

His brows lifted at her odd behavior, but taking the empty glass from her hands and setting it on the bar, he determinedly pressed his advantage.

“So, Regan, will you meet at my office so we can make my offer official?”

“You’re serious?”

“When it comes to business, I’m always serious,” he assured her. “Call the number on the card and my secretary will make the arrangements.”

With a nod of his silver head, Charles turned and walked toward the pub door.

Regan watched his departure, clutching the business card as she tried to decide what she was feeling.

There was surprise, of course. She never dreamed her casual etchings could be worth a dime, let alone a small fortune. And maybe a bit of pride. Hell, she wasn’t above a few vices.

But shouldn’t there be more?

Satisfaction at the knowledge she would soon have financial security? Anticipation of planning her future? Overwhelming joy and fulfillment?

Obviously spying from the kitchen, Tobi was charging toward the bar before the door had closed behind Charles.