“I need a break,” I said, wishing I was wearing sneakers. Dancing with Corey was fun but my ankles were screaming. “My feet hurt.”
“Aww, baby.” Concern shone in his emerald eyes.
I desperately wanted to believe the emotions swirling in his eyes were real.Don’t be stupid, my mind whispered.Never lower your guard.
“You need to sit down,” said Corey, taking my hand in a gentle hold and leading me to an empty corner of the hall.
I expected him to lead me to a row of plush chairs set up there but he walked past them, coming to stand beside a vast tapestry that displayed a vivid mountain scenery in oil painting.
“Come on,” he said, looking around. “Get inside.”
“Huh?”
“This way, lost girl,” said a different voice.
The tapestry was lifted and I saw two gleaming eyes emerging from the darkness. It took me a moment to realize that the tapestry wasn’t concealing the wall, but a square nook with glass windows.
Lifting a corner of the tapestry, I stepped into the darkened interior. My gaze fell on the comfortable chairs arranged there. A low glass-top table sat in the center, its surface covered with bottles of champagne and dishes of hors d'oeuvres.
“Have a seat,” said Corey, throwing himself on one of the couches.
“Done prancing around?” Caleb asked, taking a sip directly from a champagne bottle.
He was dressed in an identical tux, his hair the same sexy mess as his twin’s. They always enjoyed confusing people.
“Princess needs to rest,” said Corey, picking up a plate of appetizers.
I took off my stilettos and a moan of pleasure escaped me. Red welts appeared on the pale skin of my feet from the tight straps. I leaned against my chair, feeling better.
“I wish I could dance in my sneakers,” I said with a grumble. “Heels take all the fun away from dancing.”
“Is Beckett gone?” Caleb asked, ignoring me.
“Yeah,” said Corey. “I told him to fuck off.”
“Why do you have to be so rude to him?” I asked. “He’s a friend and I’ve been partnered with him for an assignment. Could you guys stop messing around with me?”
“She thinks we’re the bad guys,” Corey said with a low sigh. He suddenly looked regretful but his expression changed too quickly for me to be sure.
“Wearebad,” said Caleb.
“I don’t like it,” Corey mumbled.
“Then, stop messing with me,” I said.
Corey shook his head, snatching the champagne bottle from Caleb.
“Hey!” Caleb protested.
Ignoring him, Corey took a deep swig.
“Asshole,” Caleb muttered.
Corey thrust the bottle back in his hand and got up from his seat. Coming close, he kneeled before me.
Picking up my right foot, he started massaging it for me.
My eyes widened with surprise.