Free Find Me in Darkness by Julie Kenner

discomfort is climbing.
    I clear my throat. “So, um, if you’re trying to recruit us, shouldn’t you at least offer us a drink?”
    He hesitates, and for a moment I think that he’s going to apologize or offer an explanation or say something that sets me at ease. But all he does is incline his head and then indicate a nearby table. “Please,” he says, this time bringing Bray back into the conversation.
    As we walk the short distance to the table, I admire his lean, athletic frame that seems made for the fine, tailored suit he wears. He pulls out a chair for me, which is a good decision on his part, as it knocks my irritation down a notch. I’ve always been a sucker for a man with good manners.
    I settle into my chair at this intimate round table, and as I do, I take the opportunity to study his face, with its sculptured, classic features that manage to be both elegant and ruggedly masculine. I want to reach out and touch him, the urge so powerful that I press my palms to the armrests in order to keep them in place.
    But there is no saving me from his eyes. I’ve fallen into them. Those storm gray eyes that I am so certain I have seen before, even if only in my dreams. He holds my gaze for what must be only seconds but seems like millennia, and I let the tempest take me, a wild, passionate heat that holds the promise of danger and excitement—and so much more, too. I don’t understand it, and yet I crave it. And I feel as though I could stay this way forever, Brayden and the world and everyone at Dark Pleasures be damned.
    Then he lifts his hand to signal the waitress, and the spell is broken. I feel a blush creep up my neck, because even though we didn’t touch at all, I can’t shake the feeling that we have just shared something deeply intimate.
    A college-aged waiter arrives, and Malcolm orders a plate of artisan cheeses along with three glasses of The Macallan 18 year scotch, straight up for him and Brayden, on the rocks for me.
    I cock my head. “How did you know I like it over ice? For that matter, how did you know I like scotch?”
    “Would you believe I guessed?”
    “No,” I say as Bray laughs.
    Mal joins him. “I take it from your reaction that I guessed right?”
    “You did,” Bray says. “And she’s impressed.”
    “Good.” Malcolm leans back in his chair, looking entirely at ease and completely in control. “My goal is to impress both of you.” He’s a tall man, and as he stretches his legs out, his ankle brushes against my calf, setting off a storm of sensation that is out of proportion with the casual nature of the touch.
    “I’m quite impressed so far,” Brayden says as he turns his head to look at the stunning architecture and furnishings. “This place is incredible.” He’s fallen into the corporate-like politeness that I know he learned from summers in Manhattan with his father, and which served him so well during med school interviews.
    “I can do better,” Malcolm says as he lifts a hand to wave at someone across the rom. “Dagny. Come join us.”
    I turn to follow his gaze and see an absolutely stunning woman with a mass of auburn curls pinned up so that tendrils fall with casual elegance. She’s slim and wears a white sheath dress with matching white shoes, and I can’t help but think that she looks like a candle, tall and slender with a crown of flame.
    She flashes a brilliant smile toward Malcolm, and I feel an unpleasant twist in my gut. I tell myself it can’t possibly be jealousy—I barely know Mal, after all—but of course that’s exactly what it is. I force myself to smile politely as she approaches, then dig my fingernails into the armrests of my chair as she perches lightly on the armrest of his, right between him and Brayden.
    “Hi,” she says, leaning forward and extending her hand to me. “I’m Dagny. You must be Christina.”
    “Jaynie,” I correct.
    “Oh.” She glances quickly at Mal, the question plain on her face.
    “I’m afraid I used