Demetrius Read Online Free

with her before Betty and his iPhone set off a migraine. “Fine, I’ll be right out.”
    Rourke sat forward with his elbows on the table, his fingertips steepled. “Crazy Edgar never lets his girl out of the house.” 
    “Oh, she’s gotten out,” Ophelia disagreed. “What daddy don’t know don’t hurt him.” 
    “I’ll take Crazy Edgar then,” Demetrius said, “since this Callista insists on a private showing.”
    Bishop grinned. “You always get the private showings.”
    Not these days. “Let me know who’s investigating who and we’ll reconvene in a week, same time. This all stays between us.”
    He rubbed his temples as he left the meeting room and made his way to the upper level where Betty’s office was attached to his. The compound was designed so their living quarters and armory were underground, while the offices and gym were above ground. Only the board room was in the lower levels because they often met during the day when things were quiet. So he wouldn’t get disturbed. Like tonight.
    This Callista would’ve been searched for weapons and her scent evaluated for intent to harm. The fact that she’d made it as far as Betty’s office was a good sign for Demetrius.
    Taking the stairs, he racked his memory with each step. Edgar Augustus. The male’s powerful bloodline had helped him earn a council chair in the late 1800’s. He was at least another hundred years older than Demetrius’ one-twenty. If he recalled, Edgar’s daughter was young, perhaps a teenager?
    He entered Betty’s office.
    No. Definitely not a teenager.
    The hostility in the female’s aquamarine eyes did nothing to detract from her elegant beauty. She stood at least eight inches shorter than his six-foot-four, but held herself like a queen. Her spun-butter blonde hair was twisted up in a bun that his fingers itched to undo. So much softness should be shared, swept over his chest as she kissed her way down...
    Where did that thought come from? He didn’t do females who hated him. The look in her eyes was like a flaming Molotov cocktail. And it was aimed right at him. Yet it didn’t douse the instant burn of arousal warming his groin, threatening to tent his tactical pants.
    “Well, I’m here,” he barked and marched toward the door of his chamber. It irritated him, the immediate effect she had.
    He passed Betty and her censuring glare. Asserting herself to Demetrius was nothing new. To an old battle axe like Betty, he was still a snot-nosed youngling with holes in his britches. This look was different. It dawned on him that she might know of Callista Augustus after having served the family of a council member for centuries.
    He’d saved Betty’s ass, given her shelter and a job, and yet this young blonde stomped into his office and commanded his assistant’s respect over him?
    Curbing any gentlemanly skills at the threshold, he entered his office and didn’t bother holding the door for her. He sat behind his desk, reclining back in his chair. She waited with her arms crossed across from him. Betty had already shut the door.
    Well, damn. He was going to snap at Miss Augustus to close it, take out some of his aggression, show her who was in charge.
    “Callista Augustus.”
    “Demetrius Devereux.” Her voice was as fine as she was.
    He decided to switch tactics. “You have me. Alone. Whatever do you need,” he purred, eyeing her up and down.
    It should’ve been part of the act, but his eyes seemed to take great pleasure perusing her curves. Her clothing was quality, but worn. She wore faded black leggings with knee-high boots that had seen better days. The pale yellow cardigan she wore over a mulberry top complemented the stunning color of her eyes.
    Those eyes were narrowed on him.
    “I don’t plan on adding to the blog posts of your groupies. I’m here on business.”
    “By groupies, you mean…” Business could wait, Demetrius wanted to find out what the underhanded comment meant.
    “Your fan club of