Page 4 of Cruel Dynasty

“They won’t be what you usually use. That’s not a problem?” He seemed genuinely surprised at how little I seemed to care.

“It’s not,” I said, “but—”

“Mr. Byrd!” We both turned at the call of his name. Cyrus was walking swiftly toward us wearing a tight smile. “I apologize for the misunderstanding. I didn’t realize. Well, it hardly matters. We’ve arranged the Presidential Suite. It will be ready in a few minutes. In the meantime, Serina will assist you with whatever else you need.”

I swallowed back a smile at the sudden, and obviously uncomfortable, shift in his attitude toward us.

“Thank you.” Spencer barely acknowledged him more than this. Instead, he looked at me. “Why don’t you have a drink in the bar while I see to the rest of the arrangements. I’ll join you in a moment.”

I glanced over my shoulder, looking for the bar. Cyrus came to my aid.

“Allow me to show you inside and get you a table.”

There was backpedaling, and there was grovelling. This was the latter. He crooked his arm. Next to me, Spencer cleared his throat and Cyrus’s arm dropped to his side. Message received.

“This way,” he said tightly.

The hotel’s attached bar was dimly lit by a few overhead lights, stationed over the marble-countered bar. Behind the counter, two bartenders busily prepared cocktails with the ease and efficiency of machines. The rest of the space had no overhead lights but at every table a candle flickered under a glass dome, casting each in a romantic glow. Other than some soft background music, the only sound filling the place was a low roar of murmurs and whispers. How many people were having affairs here? First dates? Anniversaries? Everywhere I looked, posh couples sat with their heads bowed together in intimate conversation.

Cyrus showed me to a table in the corner, far away from the bar. “What can I order you?”

I started to say that it was unnecessary and I would wait for Spencer, but then I remembered the part I needed to play. I doubted they had any wine labels I knew of. In fact, I didn’t really have a signature drink as it were. Instead, I blurted out the first one to come to mind. “Martini.”

“Dirty?” Cyrus asked.

I had no idea what that meant, so I nodded. Wasn’t dirty always better? The drink arrived around the same time as Spencer.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the bartender asked as he placed my glass in front of me.

Spencer studied my choice momentarily then nodded at it. “The same.”

“Very good.” The bartender bowed his head and then returned to mix the cocktail.

“May I?” He plucked the stir stick out of my martini. “I’m starving.”

With a flash of his perfect white teeth, he tugged an olive into his mouth. Was it possible to be jealous of a fruit or vegetable or whatever the hell an olive is? Because I was. My thoughts drifted to places I wanted to feel his teeth.

“That’s a dangerous look,” he rasped. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just wishing I was that olive.” I picked up my glass and took my first sip. I blinked, my eyes watering at its strength. I took another, pleased that it went down more smoothly. I hadn’t known what to expect, but I actually discovered that I liked it.

“That’s funny.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke, the candle’s flame dancing in them. “I was thinking the same thing.”

The bartender delivered his drink and we sat in silence for a moment. I stirred my drink, distracted by thoughts of Spencer and annoyed by thoughts of Holden. I found myself wishing that I’d been told more about the Byrds. It would have been nice to know I was dealing with two men instead of one. Increasingly, I understood that was the case. Whatever Holden thought he knew, I needed to find out. That left me very much under his thumb. I had to tread carefully if I didn’t want Spencer to find out. I wasn’t positive Spencer would even believe his brother, but it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.

“You’re quiet again.” Frustration rippled through his words. “What did Holden say to you?”

I hated that he knew exactly what pressed on my mind, because it would only serve to fuel Spencer’s rivalry with his twin. But neither of them showed any signs of wanting to give up their secret feud. That left me stuck in the middle of them. Maybe I could have escaped it before that night in their flat. Now I couldn’t pretend that Holden’s advances were entirely unwelcome. I’d given them what they wanted, realizing too late that in actuality, I’d taken what I pleased instead of the reverse. Even worse, I wondered if I’d be able to resist that temptation again.

“Nothing, really. He was just toying with me. I don’t think he’s pleased about the engagement.” All of that was true as well as obvious. I wasn’t telling Spencer anything he didn’t know. I was just leaving out the bombshell that Holden had dropped on me at the end of the evening.

“Of course he isn’t. He wants you.” He sat back in his seat with a heavy sigh. One hand raked through his hair, disheveling it and reminding me of how it looked after we made love. My thighs squeezed more tightly together as though someone might be able to hear my clit pounding nearby. But his next words stopped it. “I thought if he had a taste, he would drop it.”

“A taste?” I’d written our near ménage à trois off as a drunken mistake, but now I saw what it truly was: a calculated gamble.

“Kerrigan.” Spencer’s voice dropped so low that it tickled on my skin. “I told you before that we shared other women. It wasn’t out of the question for either of us to think…”

“And what about what I thought?” I asked coldly.