Paradise: The Masters of The Order Novel Two by Jillian Verne Page B

listen with her ears. Even though she wasn’t his lover, the connection between them was shockingly intimate. The intensity of it scared her and she wasn’t afraid of intimacy.
    He was.
    But the tone of his voice, his body language and the way his eyes absorbed her told her very clearly that his heart was drawn to her. Judging by the bulge in his pants as he stormed out of the room just now, so was his body. But as expected, that strict, analytical mind was telling him to walk away.
    This morning, he tried, but she wasn’t about to let him. He would fight, but he wouldn’t win. She wanted him and it was high time that someone took care of Señor Meszaros Enterprises.
    At least for a little while.
    *****
    “ Sa sa’ a ye ? What’d you do to this gorgeous hair?” Andre rolled his eyes in the mirror behind her and Isabella had to laugh at the drama.
    Andre, as it turned out, was a genuine diva from Haiti. Flawless black skin, huge gold hoops and sparkling red lips sat atop six and a half feet of cut muscle, although stilettos provided the last six inches. She adored queens and Andre was marvelous. Finally someone she fit with.
    “It’s not that bad.” She scowled at him in the mirror.
    “ Sa’a pa bon ! It’s awful, sugar. Who did this to you?” he asked with sympathetic disapproval.
    “My roommate. We were going to a party.”
    “Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. What kind? Night of the livin’ dead.”
    “Can you change it back? My natural color is red and well, Jacques likes red.”
    “ M regrét . I can, but you won’t be ready by eight.” He shook his head as those big hands pulled up on the long black strands, letting them fall one by one back onto her shoulders. “Nine maybe, but not eight.”
    “Then we’ll be late,” she declared.
    Andre shook his head again. “ Ou fou ? Jacques say eight.”
    “So.”
    “Sew buttons. Are you his sister?”
    “His date.”
    Something crossed Andre’s face.
    “What?”
    “You’re gorgeous, Isla, don’t get me wrong, but you and that man, not an easy match.”
    “Explain.”
    Andre ran his hands through her hair, twisting it this way and that to figure out what to do with it. “You’re strong willed. Maybe too much for a man like Jacques. Hmm.”
    “Am not.” She frowned, then lit with excitement. “You know about him, Andre. Tell me everything. Right now.”
    “You’re makin’ my point for me, sugar.”
    Andre began to trim her hair and she glowered at him in the mirror.
    “ Oke . Our boy likes to get his way and he does. In everything. He’s sexy-as-sin and rich as a bitch. There’s no challengin’ a man like that.”
    “You forgot to mention that he’s a Dom,” she shot back, annoyed with Andre’s attempt to be vague.
    “ Sus pan ! That’s hush, hush, sugar. Don’t fit the public image.” Andre shook one long manicured finger in the mirror and brought it to his lips.
    “But in private?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow at him.
    He laughed out loud and the hearty sound boomed around the bathroom. “That naughty, naughty boy makes me blush. You know about the Order too?” Those long fingers fanned in front of his exposed chest.
    She shook her head.
    Andre’s voice suddenly became very animated. “They’re all like Jacques. Gorgeous, loaded and kinky as the night is long. Some kinda secret club for masters of the universe, comin’ from all around the globe to party in Monaco.
    “Jacques called his last party, 'The Painted Lady Parade.' Guess who did the paintin’?” He blew her kiss in the mirror. “My, oh my, I have never, I mean never in all my life, sugar, seen anything like that. Those boys party like rock stars. Kinky rock stars.”
    *****
    Joe Lee was losing his patience and he didn’t have much to begin with. He’d shelled out reams of cash and still, the incompetents who passed as his lawyers hadn’t done their damn job. He supposed the old adage was true. If you want something done right, do it yourself. But it would be stupid