Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
He raised his eyebrows at her.
“Levity?” she suggested.
He rolled his eyes.
She shrugged and went back to working on her mascara.
Tristan was gorgeous in his dark suit, dark shirt, and black tie. Of course he was; he was always gorgeous. She called out, “Wait,” as he finished running his fingers through his still hair and gooped up her hands with a little styling gel and started to run it through his hair.
“I really don’t give a fuck what I look like tonight,” he mumbled, backing away from her.
Yikes.
~~~
They left their suite hand in hand and there were five men stationed outside the room when they entered the hall. Tristan had told her that Adrian promised security going forward.
One guard (they were all dressed in a black suits, looking like secret service agents) walked ahead of them, leading the way: two walked on either side, and two walked behind them, effectively surrounding them. Kyla tried to ignore them.
They walked down the stairs to the first floor and through the open lounge area, which was still littered with “people” (she felt eyes on her but didn’t make eye contact with anyone), through doors to a hallway with several sets of doors and to the end, where French doors were opened for them into a dining room that was breathtakingly beautiful, designed like what Kyla could only imagine might be themed after a palace in France in the last century or even the one before.
The room had a long table set and seated were Adrian, at the head, Sam at one side, Kyla’s father at his other side, and a tall dark-haired goateed man beside Sam. Tristan sat her at the foot of the table and he sat beside Lyle, swapping Kyla’s water glass with an empty goblet. Clearly, changing the planned seating arrangement, not wanting Kyla beside Lyle.
“Kyla, meet Claudio,” Tristan introduced with a sweep of his hand gesturing toward the man with the goatee.
Kyla looked to the man and he was watching her, an assessing gaze, a glass of red wine in his hand.
No, wait, not red wine. Blood.
She gave him a nod as she sat down. He didn’t return it but watched her.
A server moved to Tristan and was about to fill that goblet with blood but Tristan waved his hand in refusal.
“Nothing for you, Tristan?” Adrian queried, his brow notched and his eyes darted to Kyla.
“Wine. White.”
“Good to meet you, Kyla,” Claudio belatedly said and Kyla’s eyes moved to him.
At once Kyla was struck with the fact that he appeared arrogant, cunning, predatory. It was written all over him. He was a handsome man, looked to be about ten to fifteen years older than Tristan. His hair was short; his eyes were grey but fairly luminescent. He had a goatee and a squared jaw. He was sitting down but based on his posture and the lines of his expensive-looking grey suit, Kyla suspected he was a bodybuilder.
“Tristan?” Adrian interjected, “Have you fed?”
“I have,” Tristan didn’t look at Adrian.
“But we agreed…”
Tristan waved his hand, “We’ll discuss it later.”
A server moved around to top up water glasses and then two more male servers moved in and began delivering an orange soup to everyone.
Tristan immediately leaned over and inhaled deeply over Kyla’s bowl. Then he lifted her spoon and tasted it.
“Honestly, Tristan.” Adrian said, amused.
Tristan glared at him and his fangs shot out.
Kyla steeled herself and clutched the edge of her chair.
“Gentleman, I realize emotions are high at the moment with all the revelations that have come to light. Let’s enjoy a nice meal, some conversation, and move forward, shall we?” That was Claudio.
Tristan continued glaring Adrian’s way for a beat and then his fangs retracted.
Kyla reached over under the table and put her hand on his knee and gave him a small reassuring squeeze. His face gave nothing away to anyone else at the table but he put his hand on top of hers and his thumb skated across the back of her hand.
“Bon apetit,” Adrian said and raised his glass. All others but Tristan raised their glasses. Kyla raised her water glass.
A server moved over and offered her wine. She nodded, asking for white as well, and he poured her a glass.
Tristan leaned over and lifted Kyla’s wine glass and put it to his lips and drank some and then passed it to her with a nod.
Kyla glanced at Adrian, who was watching Tristan.
“Royal taster?” Lyle mused, “I’m impressed.”
No one replied.
The soup was cream of carrot. It was delicious. Kyla decided to focus on the soup.
Does he really think they’d poison me? Or maybe slip me one of Adrian’s so-called concoctions?
“There are a few things that need to be settled,” Claudio started, “Tristan and I have spoken briefly but I wanted us to enjoy this meal together so that we can put everything on the table. Move forward. As discussed, this was planned 27 years ago when the last Kovac mating experiment failed. We need to move forward. We all want the same thing. Prosperity for our kind.”