Loki's Game Read Free

time, these rich kooks liked to do strange things such as this in order to test their would-be employees. Looking around at all of the little personality quirks of the room, Lily assumed she was to sit, but in which chair? Perhaps that was the test.
    She opted instead to stand, meandering to the fireplace to look at the painting above it. It was a Monet, and from the look of the brushstrokes, an original. The owner had to be beyond rich to afford something like that.
    What have I gotten myself into? she wondered as yet another door opened. In walked a tall, broad-shouldered man. His blond hair, while brushed and perfectly neat, hung just beyond his shoulders in soft waves. A set of full, rose-colored lips rested amid pale stubble the same color of his hair. Those sinful lips broke into a broad smile that touched his eyes, making them sparkle. They were the color of the sky, flecked with gold and surrounded by a thick fringe of long lashes most women would kill for. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, but carried himself as if he were much, much older. Just the sight of him set her blood boiling in her veins.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Redway,” he said. She picked up a slight accent, but from where she couldn’t be sure. “Please,” he gestured to the chairs with a broad sweep of his arm, “have a seat.” Lily hedged, forcing a smile to her lips. He stood by, patiently waiting, and she looked him over as she closed the space.
    Definitely a test.
    He wore a well-tailored suit with a long-waist coat of dark blue linen lined with black satin, and he moved like a man used to partaking of the finer things in life. His quiet confidence both excited and unnerved her. Lily perched on the edge of the chair, eyes still fixed on him. His smile was natural and easy, and put her on edge as he took the seat opposite her, sinking into its comfort as if he’d sat there a thousand times.
    “Relax,” he said. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”
    “Thank you, Mr…”
    “Rowan,” he said, extending his hand toward her. “Rowan Keir.” She accepted the friendly offer, prepared to shake it. Instead, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the skin just behind her knuckles. “Enchantée.” Lily cleared her throat to hide the girlish giggle threatening to escape. It was such a cheesy line, but so, so flattering.
    “A pleasure, Mr. Keir.”
    “Call me Rowan.”
    “All right, Rowan,” she said, trying hard to ignore the tingle across the back of her hand where his lips touched. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but I was hoping you could tell me what sort of job it is I’m applying for.” He hit her with the full force of his smile, a sight that would have made her knees weak had she been standing.
    “Very straightforward. I like that.” He poured two cups of tea. “The position I offer is unique. It requires certain…talents.” She swore his words had a double meaning as he pushed a cup toward her. “Honey?”
    Lily had to clear her throat twice before speaking. “Thank you.”
    “This position will require close collaboration with me on many topics,” he said blithely, as if he had not noticed the immediate effect he’d had on her. Lily knew men weren’t immune to that sort of thing—he could probably smell the change in her body’s chemistry…if not see the bright burn of embarrassment heating her cheeks.
    “So, an assistant.”
    He smirked, and she went gooey inside. “Something like that.”
    At a complete loss for words, Lily lifted the cup to her lips. He watched her, mimicking her movements. Her eyes wandered back to the Monet painting above the fireplace, grasping for a way to break the tension. This man was not ordinary in any way, a realization both terrifying and refreshing. At least he would be anything but dull.
    “Tell me a bit about yourself,” Rowan said, startling her back to attention. His gaze was intense and intimate, and Lily cleared her throat nervously, hugging the teacup to