Knight (Unfinished Hero #1)(96)

I stared into his vivid, blue eyes twisting my hand at his chest so my fingers curled around his.

Then I whispered, “Okay, Knight.”

He stared into my eyes that were getting wet.

“You know I don’t like tears, baby,” he whispered.

I sucked in a breath through my nose and held his hand tightly. He watched me do this and waited until I got control.

When I did, he muttered, “Good.” Then, “You like the ring?”

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen outside of you.”

His eyes flashed as his head gave a short jerk.

Then he whispered, “Fuck me.”

I knew what that meant and felt my lips quirk.

Then I whispered back, “Thank you.”

His arm slid up my back and got tight in a way my face had to move forward even as his hand crushed mine in his.

“I love you, Anya,” he growled fiercely, so low, deep and rumbling I felt it through my body. “You know that, babe.”

“I do, honey,” I whispered, clutching his hand and I felt my nose sting again.

“No tears,” he ordered.

I pressed my lips together, took another breath in through my nose and nodded.

His arm and hand relaxed.

“Now, sleep.”

I nodded again.

He turned out the light and settled us, Knight on his back, me pressed to his side, his hand still holding mine against his chest.

Okay, that was beautiful.

Okay, that was amazing.

Okay, I loved this man.

But I had a secret. A secret I was worried would not please him. A secret that pleased me greatly but I was worried it would make him angry.

And he knew I had a secret. He sensed it. He’d guessed at what was bothering me.

But he was very, very wrong.

And after he gave that to me, with all that he’d given me, I had to find a way to share my secret.

I just didn’t know how.

* * * * *

The thin, high heels of my ludicrously expensive sandals clicked on the floors of our apartment as I moved through the L-shaped hall toward the living room-kitchen area.

I had my phone to my ear.

“She’s working my last nerve,” Vivica declared. “Are you f**kin’ coming?”

After a brief respite, Sandrine went on the prowl again. Then we had another brief respite after she hooked herself a handsome, built, wealthy jerk. They got engaged within a month and married two months later in an extravaganza that she threw together in a frightening display of “I’m a princess, all bow to me” that cost her father a fortune and, nearly, Vivica’s friendship. Against Knight’s advice, I forged in and held my posse together by the skin of our teeth. But her behavior definitely lost her any of the dregs of what was left of the respect she had from Knight and Rhashan. They both put up with her for Viv and me and that was as far as it went.

Now they were getting a divorce and she was on the prowl again. Since she and her husband separated two months ago, she’d met and discarded two “loves of her life” both holding this title for less than a week.

She was looking for number three.

Her hunting ground wasn’t normally Slade or other clubs. At twenty-nine, even Sandrine knew she was beyond that. She mostly hunted high-brow charity functions, dragging, on occasion, Vivica (who was now at a different hotel with no “assistant” in her manager title and a huge pay hike) or, more frequently, me along with her.

But she wasn’t averse to hitting the scene.

She also wasn’t averse to getting her groove on, getting hammered and doing stupid stuff.

Like, obviously, she was doing now.

I moved into the kitchen.

“I’m about to leave. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Move your ass, girl, or Knight will be activating the cleanup crew to mop up blood after a very messy homicide,” Viv replied and I grinned.

“Gotcha. There in fifteen.”

“Later.”

“Later.”

I disconnected and shoved my phone in my red clutch. It was one of fifteen clutches I owned, seven of these being red. My dress was also red and it was one of about fifty that I owned, around thirty-five of those being red.

This wardrobe enhancement was because I liked to be around Knight and our schedules, me at the spa during the day, him at the club at night, except for Sundays, meant we didn’t have a lot of time together.

So I often went to Slade.

I did not know any of his “girls” but I did suspect, from some looks, some comments (not overt but thoughtful and respectful) that a number of them came to my spa. When I cottoned onto this, they shocked me. They weren’t exactly what I would think of as professional, classy call girls. They also weren’t skanks. They just looked like, well… women.

But I did know most of his waitresses and bartenders, there was a heavy turnover of both so there was always a new one, and all of his bouncers and security. Those didn’t turnover. Knight was selective, he trained them carefully, treated them right, they respected him, he returned the favor, paid well and they stuck.

So I had Knight on occasion, his staff and often Vivica, Sandrine (unfortunately, these days) or one or several of my other friends would show and keep me company.

I also had my own, small VIP section. The last time Knight gutted the club, he’d had it built for me. It was higher than the others, could accommodate around ten people, was fit for comfort, had some cool-as-heck screening that provided some privacy though you could shift to see whatever you wanted to see but it was also positioned so, from his window, Knight could see me.