Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,53
of their wild heartbeats into oblivion.
“I thought I saw them in the rose garden a little while ago, but I… Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dorian!”
The words cut through the blissful haze, and Dorian opened his eyes and bolted upright in the leaves, just in time to catch Aiden’s glare.
Next to him, Isabelle stared in equally embarrassed surprise, her eyes sparkling with a hint of laughter.
“Dorian?” Charlotte sat up next to Dorian, then gasped, frantically trying to cover herself with the loose flannel. “Shit! I mean, sorry! Hi! We didn’t realize… Um…”
“We were just…” Dorian scrambled to reach for his pants without standing up and giving them both an eyeful. “My apologies, Isabelle. If you’ll just give us a moment to… gather our things…”
“Take all the time you need, Dori,” Aiden said. “I was just thinking… You know what this day is missing? The chance to make things really fucking awkward for everyone. And here we are, prayers answered! Well, you two carry on then.” He turned Isabelle back onto the path and led her toward the manor. “I’ll just escort our guest inside and see if we might find some bleach for our eyes.”
With the intruders out of sight, Dorian and Charlotte dressed in record time, Charlotte doing her best with the now-buttonless flannel.
“Why are we always getting so rudely interrupted?” Dorian teased, sweeping her into his arms for one last embrace.
Charlotte shrugged. “At least Aiden didn’t lecture you about taking your woman on a cruise or to a fancy hotel.”
“True, but he also failed to mention the gold-plated dick. I’m not sure if I should take that as a slight.”
“Let’s just keep the dick between us, shall we?”
Dorian laughed and tugged a rogue maple leaf from her hopelessly tangled hair. “Another command I’m more than happy to oblige.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I’m afraid we’ll need something stronger than tea for this conversation,” Isabelle said as Aiden put on the kettle. Then, with a hopeful smile, “I don’t suppose you have gin?”
“A woman after my own heart,” Charlotte said.
Dorian, who’d been surreptitiously pulling leaves from his woman’s hair while attempting not to develop a raging hard-on at the kitchen table, was happy for the distraction of a new task.
Slipping the last leaf into his pocket, he rose from his chair. “Drinks it is, then.”
With Gabriel on a mission to trace the location of Sasha’s call, and Cole back at his cabin to regroup with the wolves, that left Dorian, Aiden, and Charlotte to deal with whatever news Isabelle was about to drop into their laps.
Based on her comment about the drinks, he had a feeling they’d be discussing a lot more than the ongoing delays with the Armitage acquisition.
He escorted everyone to the study, and while Aiden lit a fire, Dorian fixed two gin and tonics for the women, along with glasses of scotch for himself and Aiden.
Isabelle took a deep drink, then said, “After hours of brutal negotiations, my brothers have decided to sell Armitage Holdings to Renault Duchanes. I’m pushing for a legal challenge on account of my father’s health, but that’s where we stand right now.”
“Well, we knew it was a strong possibility,” Aiden said. “Duchanes has been courting the company for quite some time.”
“This goes well beyond Duchanes,” she said. “Remember the financial anomalies I mentioned earlier? On paper, Armitage Holdings has been bleeding cash for years, yet there always seemed to be funding for new projects. Until my father’s health started failing, I wasn’t involved in the day-to-day operations, so I wasn’t aware just how deep the issue ran. That changed today.”
“Were you able to get it sorted?” Dorian asked.
“Not really. The books are a mess—mysterious investments never traced back to a legitimate source, wire transfers from shell companies and offshore bank accounts, anonymous contributions. It’s a wonder we weren’t investigated for fraud years ago.” She fumed over her glass, anger flashing in her eyes. “But I did make one important discovery. Renault Duchanes? He’s not the real buyer. He’s simply the slightly more palatable face of a powerful backer.”
“Let me guess,” Dorian said, pacing before the fireplace. “The backer is the source of the secret cash flow.”
Isabelle held up her glass in cheers, then took another deep drink. “Ladies and gentleman, may I present the backer, the source, the future owner of Armitage Holdings, and the leader of the most powerful demonic faction on the eastern seaboard—Nikolai Chernikov.”
Dorian stopped pacing, nearly dropping his drink. “How did you determine this?”
“My brothers may have their heads up their useless