Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) by Airicka Phoenix Read Free Book Online

feet were moving, closing all that safe distance until she stood facing the beast head on like an idiot. She wondered if it was rational to be so utterly fascinated by a complete stranger, even if he had the face of a condemned angel with its sharp angles, hard contours and rugged curves beneath taut, olive-toned skin. There was just something wicked about studying him when he had no knowledge of it. To just stand there in one of the shadowy corners and trace the sharp lines of his cheekbones and watch the lights reflect off his cold, hard eyes. He would never know.
     
    The thought made her bite back a giggle. She felt like such a pervert, spying on a man like some peeping tom. The only things missing were binoculars and forehead grease smearing his bedroom window.
     
    Her gaze wandered over his broad shoulders and that wide expense of chest made especially to pillow a woman’s head, and sighed. The man was all kinds of trouble. But he wasn’t a man, she thought, studying him, trying hard to gauge his age through the haze. Yet, in the same dim light, he was. His age seemed to shift the harder she tried to pin it down. Maybe it was his height, his massive build, his scowl, but he appeared both old and young. She pushed away the urge to ask. Something told her he wouldn’t tell her anyway. Plus, did she really need to know? It wasn’t as though they were ever going to get past the whole him wanting her gone and her refusing thing. Why did the hot ones always wind up being the assholes? Was it written somewhere? Or, while the girls were being taught about their period and birth control during health class, were the boys pulled into another room and told the one-o-ones of asshole-ism?
     
    You’re not here to worry about that, a bossy little voice at the back of her head reminded her. And it was right. She wasn’t there to ogle hot men — that was just an added bonus with a family like the Maxwells who seemed seriously blessed with the hot gene.
     
    Possible or not, she made up her mind to simply ignore the man behind the bar, or rather, ignore the tug she felt whenever she looked at him. It was crazy anyway. She would do her job and prove that his parents hadn’t made a mistake hiring her. It seemed like a rational, safe thing to do anyway.
     
    He seemed preoccupied when she crept closer. His hands were busy drying shot glasses with a white rag, but his eyes were fixed unseeingly across the room, a forlorn gleam in them that made her wonder what he was thinking that had his guard so completely down. It was almost a shame to disturb his reverie.
     
    “Hello,” she whispered, stopping at the bar.
     
    Octavian blinked. His hands stilled in their task as his gaze dropped to hers and for that heartbeat of a second there was no annoyance or frustration, only a mild curiosity as he searched her eyes, seemingly trying to read something there that puzzled him. Then, as quickly as it happened, it was all sucked into some invisible vortex and the scowl was back.
     
    “You came.” The accusation mirrored the annoyance in his eyes as they bore into her.
     
    Riley cleared her throat before speaking. “I said I would.”
     
    He set the shot glass down with enough force that the resounding clank splintered through the ruckus around them. “So you did.” He stared hard at her, picking at her consciousness until she wondered if he was trying to read her soul. “There’s still time to change your mind,” he told her. “Just go.”
     
    “I won’t,” she replied.
     
    He muttered something she was sure it wasn’t pleasant, then, “Reggie!” he shouted without taking his eyes off her.
     
    Reggie turned from where he stood at the far end of the bar, flirting with a trio of women old enough to be his mother. “You rang, Boss?”
     
    Octavian stuffed the rag into the front pocket of his black cargo pants, still watching Riley. “Our guest has arrived.” The way he spat out guest, nearly made her wince as though