voice said, “Ladies? Are you going up?”
Henri recognized the blonde as they made their way toward the stairs. She had a serene profile and a graceful figure draped in a vintage-style dress that he imagined his sisters would coo over. They were the fashion aficionados, but he knew quality when he saw it.
Everything about this woman was understated elegance. In a sea of heavy makeup and over-the-top flapper gear, she wore a short black number that shimmered with fringe. Her hair was pressed into the pinched waves of old and a simple line of diamonds banded it. One side of her delicate tiara was bedecked with a leafy filigree and a single feather.
She looked smart and feminine without even trying.
She had smiled at him earlier, which was nothing new. People stared and acted like they knew him all the time. Heads in the crowd were turning to do it now. He usually ignored it, but he had looked back at her for a full thirty seconds because, why not? She was beautiful. It hadn’t been a chore.
Neither was this side of her. The dress didn’t need to hug her figure to show off her pert ass and slender thighs. It was rather erotic in the way it only suggested at the curves it disguised.
“Company?” he suggested.
Possessing exactly as healthy a libido as Henri, Ramon followed his gaze, saw the stacked brunette beside her and commented, “Good eye.”
They easily operated as one unit without preplanning. Henri paused beside the women in time to hear them wish for a man to buy them drinks.
Ramon stepped past them to open the chain on the bottom of the stairs himself, not bothering to identify himself to the bouncer. Everyone knew them on sight.
“Ladies? Are you going up?” Ramon’s gaze flicked back to Henri. He’d heard their lament and Henri very subtly signaled he didn’t care.
They were targets of gold diggers all the time. They had both learned to take care of themselves. It didn’t mean a good time couldn’t be had by all.
The brunette blushed and smiled, standing taller, shoulders going back. She was dazzled and very receptive. “Yes. We are.” She nodded confidently despite the fact they all knew who moved freely up these upstairs and who did not. She nudged the blonde.
The blonde pursed her mouth with dismay. Embarrassed at being overheard as a mercenary? No need. Henri found that to be the easiest and most convenient of traits to manage in a woman.
The music started up again, increasing his desire to leave the noise and crowd behind.
The blonde looked warily between him and his brother, giving Henri the sense she was trying to work out which one of them had met her gaze earlier.
He and Ramon didn’t fight over women. There was no point since neither of them wanted long-term relationships. Women seemed to view them as interchangeable anyway. But Henri found himself annoyed by the idea she might decide to go with Ramon.
What had been a generic restlessness responding to the gaze of a beautiful female ticked up into a desire to have this one in particular.
“Watch the fireworks from our suite,” Ramon said with easy command, waving an invitation. “Save me from staring at my own face.”
“Why would you stare at your brother when you’ll be watching the fireworks?” the brunette asked with a cheeky bat of her lashes. “Maybe if you didn’t dress alike you wouldn’t feel like you were talking into a mirror?”
“We don’t do it intentionally.” Ramon offered his arm to escort her up the stairs. “It happens even when we’re half the world away from each other. We’ve stopped fighting it.”
“Really!”
The pair was quickly lost in the shadows of the gallery.
The blonde gazed after her friend, biting her lip, then relaxed her mouth and licked her lips as she glanced at Henri. It almost seemed a nervous response, but the action flooded color into a mouth that now looked dewy and soft as rose petals, shiny and kissable. A very enticing move.
His gaze lingered on the sight, as his mind slid naturally into the pleasant fantasy of crushing her mouth with his.
“Shall we?”
She fell into step beside him.
This was not his first time picking up women with his brother. He and Ramon had long ago concluded that if they were saddled with being the Sauveterre twins they were damned well going to take advantage of the one outstanding benefit. Startlingly good looks, times two, along with buckets of money and celebrity status meant that the sweetest companions were in endless supply.
“Was that true?” the blonde asked, leaning in to be heard. “That you dress alike at other times, not just tonight?”
“Yes.” Henri hated talking about himself and loathed even more talking about his family, but this was one of those innocuous tidbits that strangers loved to hear. The mystery of being a twin was infinitely fascinating to those who weren’t. He accepted it and had stopped fighting it, as well.
At least tonight it gave him an excuse to hold her arm as he leaned down to speak in her ear, liking the silken brush of her hair against his nose as he inhaled a scent that was cool English roses and warm woman.
“In fact, when one of us changes out of what the other is wearing, we inevitably spill something and have to go back to the first outfit.”
“You’re joking.”
He shrugged off her skepticism. His sisters were connected on an emotional level. He and his brother were more outwardly aligned. They had very different personalities, were competitive as hell with each other, but often spoke in unison or followed a similar thought process, inevitably arriving at the same end result. As Henri had been calling his brother to suggest they host this year’s planning sessions in London instead of their usual Paris or Madrid, Ramon had been accepting the invite to this club opening.
“I’m, um, Cinnia. Whitley.” She offered her hand as they arrived on the upper floor.
“Henri.” Her skin felt as soft as it looked and was warmer than the pale tone suggested. She had a firm grip for a woman. He didn’t want to let her go, but she pulled her hand free to glance behind him at Guy, who had followed them, then frowned at Oscar ahead of them, already stepping through the door to the suite where Ramon waited with her friend.
“Do you have bodyguards?”
“It’s just a precaution.” They followed into them the suite.
While Oscar inspected the room, Guy brought out his phone and sent a brief text—a request for a background check on both women no doubt. Helping Guy along, Henri introduced himself to the brunette, learning her name was Vera Phipps.
Aside from relying on men’s wallets rather than their own, Henri judged both women to be harmless. Vera sent a “jackpot” look to Cinnia when a butler arrived to take their order, then she followed Oscar’s path through the room, trailing fingers on the low-slung sofa and chairs as she circled, glancing to the flat screen hung on the wall,
