Sweet Surrender (Sweet #1)(29)

“On that we agree,” Micah said. “You head over there. Do you know where it is?”

Gray nodded.

“Okay, you go. I’ll call over and arrange for you to get in. I’m good friends with the guy who owns it.”

Gray turned without responding and hurried back out to his truck. He felt a little foolish making such a big deal out of this, and he’d risked looking an even bigger fool by coming over to Micah’s like this, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Faith was in way over her head.

CHAPTER 14

Faith pulled up to the gate guarding the driveway to the large house looming up the hill. When she drew abreast of the small security box, she rolled down her window and leaned out to push the button.

“Can I help you?” a polite voice inquired.

She breathed in nervously. “I have an appointment. My name is Faith Malone.”

“Please proceed, Miss Malone.”

The gate slowly swung open, and she started forward, accelerating up the winding lane. When she pulled up to the house, she saw a secluded parking lot, not visible from the entrance. A large brick wall covered with ivy separated the lot from the sprawling front lawn.

She drove around the partition and eased into a parking spot beside a sleek Mercedes. As she got out and surveyed the array of very expensive cars, she glanced self-consciously back at her Honda Accord.

What kind of people gathered here? Were they all rich, bored types looking for cheap thrills?

“Nothing like making sweeping generalizations,” she muttered as she headed for the double wooden doors ahead.

Before she could raise the heavy knocker, the door swung open, and she found herself staring at a good-looking, well-dressed man. Okay, not just good-looking, but very good-looking.

He smiled broadly at her. “You must be Faith.” He held his hand out to her. “I’m Damon.”

She took his hand, shook it and smiled in return. She felt some of her nervousness dissipate. “I’m so glad to meet you. I feel as though I know you with all the e-mails we’ve exchanged in the last week.”

He chuckled then gestured for her to enter. “Please, come in.”

She walked in ahead of him and paused, waiting for him to go in front of her. The foyer was elegantly decorated, the lighting dim enough to make the interior look warm and inviting but not so dark as to give off a sinister aura.

Damon walked up beside her and placed a hand to her back. “If you’ll come this way, our first stop will be the sitting room where you can relax for a moment and have a drink.”

He ushered her into a smaller room just beyond the foyer. The inside was classy yet comfortable. A large Oriental rug stretched across highly polished wood floors, ending just in front of a dark brown leather couch. To the right sat two overstuffed casual chairs, the kind that would swallow you up whole as soon as you sat down.

“Why don’t you have a seat. Would you care for a glass of wine?”

Faith nodded and started toward one of those comfy-looking chairs.

“By the way, I like what you decided to wear very much.”

She turned around, her cheeks heating as she saw his gaze slide up and down her bare legs. Damon’s lips lifted in a half smile before he walked over to the wall and pressed a button on what looked to be an intercom system.

She glanced down at the form-fitting skirt that clipped her legs about two inches above her knee. The shoes, well, she had to admit, they were purely for show. In a moment of pure weakness, she’d spent a hell of a lot of money on the sex-on-a-sole shoes.

But they made her feel sexy, vibrant and a little bad. Okay, a whole lot bad. With a tiny grin, she sank into the soft leather chair and forced herself to relax.

Damon joined her a few seconds later. Moments after he sat down on the couch across from her chair, the door opened, and a man who looked every bit the butler out of some stodgy English movie walked in carrying a serving tray.

He bent and offered her one of the crystal flutes. Her eyes widened, and she smiled at the oh-so-proper man. She was only a little disappointed that he didn’t have a British accent.

She took a glass and lifted it to her nose to inhale the aroma of the wine. The butler offered Damon a glass next then inclined his head toward Faith and retreated from the room.

“I’m guessing most of your clients are higher end,” Faith said before sipping the wine.

Damon chuckled. “It’s all about appearances. If you want to attract the right clientele, you have to establish yourself on their level.”

“You certainly dress the part,” she said dryly, her gaze moving up and down his expensive silk shirt and designer slacks.

He smiled lazily at her. “Are you comfortable here?”

She blinked at his sudden change of topic. After a moment’s thought, she realized she wasn’t nearly as nervous as she had been. But then this was probably part of the game plan. Ply the potential member with booze until they were too soused to worry about what they were getting into.

A giggle escaped her at that thought.

Damon looked at her in amusement. “You truly are as delightful in person as you came across on the phone and in your e-mails. I was prepared to be disappointed. I’m glad I wasn’t.”

Faith blushed, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

He leaned forward and set his glass on the mahogany coffee table. “The House is divided into two levels. The lower level is where all the socializing occurs. We invite a very relaxed, laidback atmosphere. Rooms are set up for patrons to mingle, talk, get to know each other. We have strict guidelines for what occurs on the main level.”