by Ava Harrison
“Not exactly.” When I don’t elaborate, he starts to walk again, and so do I.
He leads me toward his office, and once inside, he gestures for me to take a seat. He pours himself a cognac and me a glass of scotch, and then after we both drink, he levels me with his stare, telling me with no words to proceed.
“I need you to give them to Michael Lawrence.”
That makes him put the glass down, the liquid spilling over the rim and onto his desk from the force.
“The fuck? You mean the bastard who killed your brother?” Cyrus asks, his brow furrowed and his jaw tight.
“That’s another thing,” I interrupt. “I need to look into that and into the attack on my yacht.”
“Okay, but I’m confused.”
Leaning back in my seat, I focus my gaze out the window. Although you can’t see it clearly, that’s where his island is. Where Ivy is. For all intents and purposes, they shouldn’t be together, yet they are. Maybe, if what Phoenix says is true, maybe there is a chance. But first, I need to know. I put my cards on the table for Cyrus. “Maybe I was looking at this all wrong. Michael has always claimed his innocence.”
“This is about the girl?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I’m so used to denying it, so it slips out of my mouth, but it sounds like a lie. I can hear it, and by the way Cyrus looks at me, he can hear it too.
“Cut the shit, Prince. You were stranded on an island with his daughter, and then you come back with this bullshit. No way is that a coincidence.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I grunt.
“That’s not a no.” He grins, and I’m not sure what Ivy has done to this man, but now he’s grinning too. I guess anyone can change. Can I? I already have. The fact that Michael isn’t dead yet speaks of that, and now I’m here bartering a deal to give the man, who has been my enemy for as long as I can remember, his guns for a girl. Yep. I’ve changed. It’s pretty obvious I also handed in my man card somewhere on that island.
“Can you do that for me?” I ask, needing to get out of my own inner rambling.
“I can. Anything else you need?”
He probably will hate himself for asking that question in five, four, three, two, one.
“Can you throw a masquerade party and invite him and his daughter?” Now that the hit has been called off, Michael will not have to stay in hiding. It’s the perfect plan to lure her to me.
The look on his face is worth a thousand words. “What the fuck, Alaric? You know I hate people.”
“This is true, but in my plan, this is necessary. He won’t let me anywhere near her. I wouldn’t put it past him to shoot me on the spot if he saw me. This is the only plan I can come up with that allows me to speak to her and not get killed. Trust me, if this wasn’t my last option, I would never ask.” His hand runs through his hair as he thinks about what I’m asking. “Plus, who are you kidding, Reed? As much as you hate everyone, you always have them here, so this time, you just have to make it a little bigger.”
“You’ll owe me.”
“The fuck I will. I helped save your girl’s life.”
“Touché.” He lifts his glass and takes another swig. “Tell me the plan.”
43
Phoenix
The door to my room flings open, and my father steps into my room.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks as he crosses the space to get a better look at me.
“Like shit still,” I mumble.
“The doctor said that after what you’ve been through, that would happen. You just need to give it time.”
“It’s been four weeks.” I groan.
Four miserable weeks. Four weeks of a broken heart, and apparently, a parasite I had picked up on the island.
Only me.
When I returned, I was severely malnourished, and my body has been paying the price for it ever since.
I now know without a shadow of a doubt, that if it wasn’t for Alaric, I would have died.
He saved me.
I owe him my life, and I will never see him again to tell him that.
For the first few weeks, I expected Alaric to come for me. Or at the very least call. But after a month, I now know I never meant as much to him as he did to me.
He never did tell me he loved me.
Here I was, crazy and stupid in love with him, and I was just a way to pass the time.
My heart still hurts when I think of him.
No matter how much time passes and how much I beg my brain and my heart to move on, I can’t.
I’m now resigned to the fact that it will never happen, and I’ll just die from the apparent parasite I got from my ill-fated trip.
“When do you go back to the doctor?”
“Not for another few weeks. He thought it would pass naturally, but I feel weak.”
Luckily, the vomiting stopped, but now I’m tired all the time.
Since I haven’t left the hotel, my tan from the island has faded, and now I just look pale and sickly.
A part of me wonders if it’s just my broken heart that has made me feel like this.
“I’m happy you are feeling better. That’s actually why I came to talk to you—”
I sit up in my bed and raise my brow. “What’s going on?”
“I need you to come with me to a fundraiser.”
“I thought … I thought you didn’t want to be seen in public with me. That you were afraid of one of your enemies hurting me?”
“The only enemy I had was Alaric Prince, and he’s been off the radar.”
A sharp pain resonates through my leg as I realize my fingernails are biting into the skin of my thigh under the blanket.
“Off the radar? What do you mean?” I can’t help the way my voice rises, and my father doesn’t miss it. His eyes narrow into thin slits.
“No one has seen him. And without him breathing down my neck and ruining my business, my life is better. Both our lives are better without him in it.”
It’s a pointed comment. He has asked me about my time with him and if he hurt me. My answer was never to tell him.
At first, it was to protect and hold dear our time together. Now, I’m embarrassed I meant so little to him.
“What did you want to talk about?” I say, changing the topic, annoyed that I have to think about Alaric at all—and that hearing his name made my heart flutter a little faster.
Damn treacherous heart.
Falling in love is for idiots.
Or, at the very least, masochists.
“A masquerade party. They are raising money for an adoption agency. I thought it would be a good idea for you to come.”
“A political idea.”
He stands quietly, and I wonder what he is thinking. My comment is uncalled for because my adoptive father has never in my life used me for his own gain. He has always protected me, but my wounds over Alaric are still deep.
“You have never been that to me. This is important. Not just because of the topic, but also because of business. I know it might seem like it’s political, but seeing as this is near and dear to our hearts, the host invited you. The money being raised is for children like you. Children whose parents have died. The difference is, they don’t have anyone to take them in. I thought you could use this because you haven’t left this room. I thought that maybe”—he swallows—“that after what you have just been through, you might be feeling alone and miss your parents. I thought this could help, that helping others like you could help, and I thought we could do this together.”
Tears well in my eyes at his words. I feel like a complete ass for attacking him. I was lucky to have Michael, but so many children aren’t.
“Okay,” I whisper, but then another thought pops into my head. “I have nothing to wear.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that everything is taken care of. I’ll hire a stylist and hair and makeup to come to the hotel. You won’t have to worry about anything.”
Maybe I
need this.
It can give me a purpose.
Which is something I need right now.
44
Alaric
Everything is in place, including this god-awful mask.
However, I can’t complain because it was the only way this plan would work.
Michael Lawrence has been keeping his daughter on a short leash. She still hasn’t left to go anywhere.
Not even to get ready for tonight. Her father hired a team to go to the hotel and get her ready.
Yes, I am keeping tabs.
Phoenix would probably accuse me of being a stalker, which I am.
I don’t care what anyone thinks. I need to make sure she’s okay. My men give me updates, and I know they want to ask more, but they know better.
Instead, they play their part in this ruse. The ruse that I don’t care about her.
It’s all a lie, though.
I can finally admit it.
I love that fucking girl.
Now what to do with this information is a completely different matter.
Which brings us to the here and now.
A party to lure a man and his daughter into my world when they are both known to be notorious recluses.
In typical Cyrus fashion, the party in his grand mansion in Connecticut is over the top.
This place is ridiculous, but then again, I have no use for a house, mansion, or even an apartment. I’m happy living on my yacht and moving from port to port. There’s only one place that I was ever happier than when on the sea …
With her.
In the cave.
But this place, Cyrus’s place, isn’t even where he lives now.
Now, he is only with her.
A spark of jealousy fills my veins. That’s what I want.
It’s not going to happen, though, not after everything.
Then why the ruse? Why make all this happen if I’m not going to cage the dove?
Because I just need to see her again.
Then I’ll let her fly away.
I move around the room, scotch in hand. Even with the masks on, I see familiar faces, and I head over.
“Tobias, James, Matteo, good to see you.”
They must not have recognized me at first. My mask covers more than theirs, but for my plan to work, Phoenix can’t know it’s me right away.
“Likewise, we all thought you were dead?” Matteo says, reaching his hand out, which I shake.
“Did you cry?” I mock.
“Yes. I thought I would have to find someone else to supply me. You know how much I hate negotiating.”
“Asshole.”
“Good to have you back, mate,” James says, next shaking my hand, followed by Tobias.
I spend the next few minutes talking shop with them before I pull Matteo aside.
“Thank you for taking care of that thing for me.” I’m referring to the hit. Matteo cocks his head in confusion, so I lean closer, so only he will hear me. “The hit on Michael Lawrence. Lorenzo said he’d take care of it.”
“Then it must have been.”
I nod and step away. It’s only a moment longer before I am excusing myself to find Phoenix.
The room is filled with people milling around with drinks, appetizers, and masks covering their faces.
It should be impossible to find her in this mess, but it’s not.
I see her right away.
Like the Red Sea parting, there she is, across the room, standing by herself.
She looks gorgeous. Her long gown is the same color as her eyes and also the same color of the lagoon where we fished.
A part of me wants to believe that’s why she chose it.
It dips low in the front, showcasing her small but pert breasts, the material clinging to her tiny frame.
She looks smaller than when she was on my yacht. It appears she hasn’t gained back any of the weight she lost on the island.
Anger flows through me. She’s still unwell, even after all this time.
I should have been there. I should’ve made sure she was okay.
Guilt spreads through my veins, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m striding toward her.
I’m halfway there before I slow my pace.
She hasn’t seen me yet, and here I am, moving like a caveman—no pun intended—toward her. If I go in guns blazing, I’ll ruin everything. She will alert her father, and I will never get to speak to her.
As it turns out, even though I know where she is currently, I don’t put it past Michael to see me as a threat and hide her away. He did manage to hide her from me for years.
Now walking at a normal clip, I make it appear that I’m looking elsewhere when I make my approach.
I’m not sure if she sees me, but when I finally stand in front of her, she gives no indication that she knows it’s me.
Reaching out my hand, I offer it to her.
A silent invitation to dance.
Her large blue eyes find me, and she squints, and I think this is when she figures it out, but with my whole face covered, even most of my eyes, it would be nearly impossible.
She looks around the room, maybe looking for her father to help her.
My game will be over before it starts, but then she inhales deeply and offers me her hand.
Once encased in my own, I walk us toward the dance floor.
I had forgotten how small she was in my arms, and now that I have her in them, I’m not sure I will ever be able to let her go again.
The music changes, and I pull her close.
My hand rests on the small of her back as I lead her around the room.
With the orchestra playing the melody, I move us to the beat, slowly shuffling us closer to the door, to our destination.
Her eyes are closed as she sways.
Probably lost in her own mind, like I am so often.
She doesn’t notice when I lead us to the outskirts of the room—or when I step through the open door, still dancing.
She doesn’t notice when the door starts to shut because the music continues to play in this room. It isn’t until we stop moving, and I place my lips by her ear that she does.
“Did you miss me, little dove?”
45
Alaric
When she doesn’t answer, I press her farther into the room.
“How?” she finally asks, her breath coming out in ragged bursts.
“I would know you anywhere, little dove,” I respond.
She steps back.
I step forward.
Trapping her against the dining room table, I continue my advance until my legs press against hers.
“I missed you.” I look down at her, watching as she inhales deeply at my words. “Did you miss me?”
“No. Not one bit,” she hisses.
My hand reaches forward and cups her jaw, my fingers trailing her exposed red lips. “And that’s what I missed the most. Your fiery little mouth.”
“Stop touching me.”
I trace her skin, remembering every delectable thing about her. I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’m supposed to be saying my piece and then walking away, but now that she’s in my grasp, I can’t.
“You can’t do this to me.”
“Do what?”
“Touch me. Pretend you care.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. I do.” My hands start to lower, trailing down her neck to the hollow of her chest. I follow the line of her dress, dipping low between her breasts. She shivers at the touch.
“You didn’t try to see me.”
“I did.”
She shakes her head in confusion, but she doesn’t say anything as my fingers press against her heart.
“This right here is mine. It beats for me. Only for me.”
Her breath catches at my words. She shakes her head and rights herself. “I’m not yours. You made that clear.”
“I tried to see you, dove.”
Her eyes are darker than normal, hollow, lacking the u
sual spark. “Then why didn’t you?”
I lean forward and swipe my tongue against the shell of her ear. “Ask your father.”
“I don’t think so, Prince.” Her hand lifts to push me away, but I grab her wrist, encasing her delicate skin in my fingers. “He wouldn’t lie to me.”
“And now I’m Prince?” I ask, her chest heaving angrily at my words.
“Well, you’re certainly not a king …”
“Oh, so we are back to that again? Do you need me to remind you who you belong to?”
“Funny, and here I thought I belonged to no one.”
“That’s where you were wrong, dove.” I step back, and then with no warning, lift her under her arms and place her on the table, her dress bunching at her hips.
Once she’s where I want her, I rest my hands on her thighs.
I move in, sealing my mouth to hers. I wait for her to push me—and she does put her hands to my chest, but when I sweep my tongue against the seam of her lips, she doesn’t. Instead, she opens on a sigh, and being the asshole that I am, I kiss her deeper. Taking full advantage of her, needy and pliant, I let my hands explore her, lifting her dress, touching the scrap of underwear covering her.
My finger strokes the fabric. “I’ve missed this.” With more pressure, I keep up my ministrations until she starts to writhe beneath my touch.
“I want to be inside you.” I groan against her lips. “Do you want me? Do you miss this?”
“Yes,” she pants as I rip her thong off her body.
“Tell me I can fuck you.”
“You can fuck me.” She starts to shake, and I know she’s close. With my free hand, I move to unzip my pants, and then once I’m free, I place myself at her entrance.
I give her one more second to object, but when she wiggles her ass on the table and pushes herself forward, I’m lost. With one quick thrust, I’m inside.
Being inside Phoenix is like coming home.
At first, my movements are slow and leisurely. We haven’t been together for a month.
I allow her to adjust to me, but once I feel her relax around me, I start to move, pulling out and then thrusting back in.
My movements are still slow. A torture we both need after our separation. Slowly, I drag my cock out and then let it hover at her entrance before sliding back in.
