Dark Kings (Feathers and Fate #1) - Sadie Moss Page 0,26

money.

Even more surprising is the fact that there are also fresh clothes waiting for me. The closet is full of them, in fact, and I know they weren’t there when I went to sleep.

A strange warmth settles into my chest as I pull out a pair of jeans and a soft t-shirt. They’re exactly my size, and they’re actually much more my taste than the pantsuit I was wearing yesterday when I met Beckett for the first time. The fact that he somehow guessed that about me and took the time to have clothes delivered makes me feel weirdly… taken care of. It’s not something I would’ve ever expected from Greed.

I open one of the drawers in a large dresser and find several pairs of lacy satin panties and bras, and my eyes roll so hard they almost get stuck in the back of my head.

Right. I forgot that even charitable gestures can have purely selfish motives. It’ll probably inflate his ego to no end to know that I’m walking around in skimpy underwear he picked out for me.

But I’m not about to go commando, so I throw everything on and then head out to meet Beckett in the kitchen. We eat a hasty breakfast, sitting in silence. I’m nervous about meeting more of the sins, and Beckett seems tense too, though I can’t guess his reasons. As soon as we’re done, we head out.

“We’ll go get Remington and Phoenix first,” Beckett informs me as we get into his sleek car. “Gluttony and Sloth, in case you were wondering.”

I was wondering, actually, so I’m glad we cleared that up. “I thought you said only Sloth would be lazy enough not to just show up when you called.”

Beckett shoots me a sharp look, as if he’s surprised I remembered what he said. Then he shrugs. “Remi gets distracted by his career. You know how it is with workaholics.”

With those words, he guns the engine, and I hold on tightly as he peels the car out of the garage and onto the street.

“I know you’re the literal personification of Greed, but that doesn’t mean you need to hog the road,” I manage to hiss out through gritted teeth as I try not to throw up my breakfast. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of car this is, angel?” He chuckles. “I’m not sure I should let you handle it.”

I’m about to open my mouth and tell him I can handle anything, but then I press my lips together, shaking my head. “Oh, I get it. You want me to argue with you until I demand you let me drive, because you want me to get greedy for the car. Nice try.”

Beckett looks impressed that I can figure out his game. Or at least some of his game. “Fair enough. You’re not as naive as you look.”

“I do not look naive.”

He doesn’t answer that with words, but the look he shoots me makes me embarrassingly warm. As if he knows how innocent I truly am in some regard and would take great pleasure in dismantling that innocence piece by piece.

Several terrifying minutes later, Beckett screeches to a stop in front of the valet for a very nice restaurant, and I nearly throw up. I yank the car door open, hurling myself out of the vehicle so fast I get tangled up in my seat belt.

“First time in a car, angel?” Beckett drawls, handing his keys to the bewildered valet.

I toss him a withering glare over my shoulder as I finally disentangle myself from the strap. “First time auditioning for Fury Road.”

He doesn’t get my Mad Max reference. Or maybe he does get it and just doesn’t appreciate it, which is far more likely.

Ignoring my sass, he comes around the car and takes my hand to steady me as he closes the passenger door behind me. Jerking his head toward the restaurant, he leads me inside.

This place is bustling, but in that careful, subdued way that you only get at fancy places where nobody wants to make a scene and everyone’s trying to look their best.

“Beck!” a genuinely joyful voice calls out over the low hum of voices, and Beckett stiffens.

“Do not call me that,” he says, but it’s too late, because a guy in a chef’s outfit is already walking up and giving Beckett a huge hug.

I step back a pace, watching the whole interaction with wide eyes. To be honest, I sort of assumed that anyone who tried