Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,6
soft, wavy layers. The make up she'd applied so many hours ago made her high cheekbones look sharper and accentuated the blue of her eyes. A dusky rose lip color had, alas, begun to wear off.
Smoothing her palms over the narrow indent of her waist, she turned away from the mirror just as eight men swarmed into the room. Imposing, dressed in black on black business suits, eyes covered by sunglasses, they could only be the next stage in security.
Four broke away from the group; two split off to check her equipment and two more approached her without smiles.
“Excuse us. We'll need to make sure you're not carrying anything, Madam,” one said.
Chey, taken by surprise at the abrupt way they entered her personal space, had no time to protest. One man simply began patting her down while the other picked the phone Urmas had given her up off the table.
For the first time since her arrival, Chey wanted to scowl and slap at hands. The security guard never touched her inappropriately, yet he also did not miss any pertinent places she might be hiding camera phones, microphones or weapons. He was exceedingly thorough and seemingly indifferent to basically feeling her up.
It was over before she really got steamed, the phone returned to the table while the men retreated to stand at different points in the room.
Was this how it always was for Royalty, even in their private residence?
Or was it her presence among them that upped the security level?
Chey returned to her camera and equipment to double check that none of the security guards had accidentally messed with the settings. Everything was in place, exactly as she'd left it.
A flurry of movement outside the doors preceded the prowling entrance of a man with dark hair combed away from his face. Unlike the guards, this man wore a regal mantle like some men wore cologne, effortlessly and with devastating effect. He commanded attention by the sheer force of his magnetism, which filled the room to overflowing.
It was impossible, Chey thought, not to follow him with her eyes.
Allar appeared at her shoulder, head bent to murmur near her ear. “I know it's difficult, but try not to stare to the point of his discomfort, hm?”
Before Chey could think to shape an answer, the unnamed man pinned a look directly on her. He had eyes the color of coffee grounds, so dark she couldn't tell where the brown ended and the black of his pupil began. The way he assessed her felt like a shredding; her character, her morals, her soul. He cocked his chin a fraction and arched a brow.
“Miss Sinclair,” Allar said, this time with more urgency.
Chey looked away from the dark haired man and fumbled with her camera. But she felt the lingering stare from across the room. He had to be Royalty.
Two women strode in next, both blonde, one natural and one born of a bottle. They were of a similar height and wore upscale, demure clothing that complimented their coloring. Neither so much as glanced Chey's way. The taller of the two paced her way toward the dark haired, dark eyed man like she owned him.
Indeed, perhaps she did. When she arrived at his side, she slithered a long fingered hand through the crook of his elbow and tilted a sleek hip against his. Whatever endearment rolled off her tongue was in a language Chey didn't understand.
The man smirked and looked out the window instead of at the blonde, replying in a voice too low to make out his words. The sound nevertheless resonated, a pleasant burr on the skin.
A third woman stalked in, heels clacking on the floor. Right off the bat, she had a petulant demand. “How long is this going to take?”
Beautiful by anyone's standards, the brown haired, blue eyed woman flounced herself into a lean against the side of a chair, exhaling in a very obvious display of being put upon. She caught sight of Chey and looked her up and down in a way that might have stripped other women to their core. Then, just as fast, she dismissed her.
“Only as long as it takes for everyone to arrive. I shouldn't imagine the actual picture taking will be an extended affair,” Urmas replied as he entered from the hall.
On his heels, another man strode in, hair black as pitch, green eyes sweeping the room before landing on the natural blonde. He went straight to her and murmured in her ear.
Chey decided the dark