Naughty Little Gift -- A Temptation Court Novella (Temptation Court, Book 1) by Angel Payne Read Free Book Online

intent on drawing a firearm—and using it.
    I shiver, boldly afraid. Then gasp, blatantly stunned.
    Dear Creator . Has the fear…aroused me?
    Though Mother drops her hold, everything still feels surreal. Never has a man said such things on my behalf…been so enraged on my behalf. Or is that it at all? What in Creator’s name is going on? Cassian’s energy is so different now. While he has changed into more relaxed attire—a white cable-knit sweater and tailored khaki slacks—his demeanor is more high protocol than at any court event I have attended. And I have been to many .
    The same curiosity governs Father’s face as he rises. “Cassian.” His extended hand is given a mechanical shake in return. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your return?”
    One of Cassian’s tawny brows hikes up—which, of course, makes more of me quiver. Even the forbidden parts. “You weren’t expecting me to?”
    “In a word,” Father rejoins, “no.”
    Bizarrely, that nicks Cassian’s armor. He chuffs without humor. “Then you’ve misread the business, Fortin. In this case, luckily, it hasn’t cost you the business too.”
    My jaw almost plummets. No one has ever dared this kind of thing with Father. Reproving Fortin Santelle like this, even disguised as “casual” conversation, would drop jaws up and down the halls of the palais. Father has even struck servants for less.
    But the look on Cassian’s face…as if he is nearly enjoying this…
    My nerve endings go icy. By the powers…I actually afraid for him.
    Until a new recognition sets in.
    Father cannot call on a single recourse against this man. Before him stands Cassian Court: an equal individual. A leader from the most cutthroat kingdom on Earth. New York City.
    My lungs clutch. What will Paipanne say? Do?
    “Ah. So we still have business?” His desperation is hidden beneath the diffidence, but Cassian sees through it…is utterly beautiful about it. I am only aware of movie stars through pictures Vylet brings up on her computer—when the Arcadian internet chooses to function—but I easily imagine the man as the chiseled star of a high-stakes spy thriller, detecting every weakness in his opponent in the space of a glance.
    Cassian himself only fuels that vision—perhaps even enhances it, with a study of Father that reminds me of straight-from-the-mine emeralds. He is…breathtaking. “I said I needed to take advisement, not my complete leave.”
    Father stiffens again. “You also said you could not sign the agreement.”
    “I said I couldn’t sign that agreement.” Out from the messenger bag, in his impossibly long fingers, comes a sheaf of papers. “This one, I’ll sign.”
    Mother snags the air with a caught breath. Father balances her, barely flinching. But his gaze goes to work, descending in another silent assessment of Cassian…searching for weakness. He will be out of luck. Cassian remains a perfect, unreadable wall: a hotter, steelier version of Jason Bourne, Jack Ryan, Ethan Hunt, and all their friends put together. He stands tall and determined, legs braced in a solid A, locking hands firmly as soon as Father takes the papers…appearing like he has all the time in the world to wait for feedback.
    It does not take nearly that long.
    Less than a dozen seconds, to be exact.
    Which has to be a record for transforming my father from practiced deal broker into stunned gaper.
    “We discussed a loan of twenty million.”
    “Correct,” Cassian replies.
    “This offer is for twice that.”
    “Also correct.”
    Maimanne gasps again. I join her. Forty million dollars ? Am I doing the math correctly? I cannot be certain, since every cell in my brain is short-circuited.
    “And you cut the interest rate…in half.”
    As Mother and I now struggle against fish gawks, Cassian’s face is unchanged. “Also correct,” he states.
    “As well as a finder’s fee for any additional opportunities in Arcadia that arise within the next year.”
    “Yes.”
    I