by Nikki Wild
11
I couldn’t believe how much of a prick he was.
It was one thing to be a smarmy asshole, but to suggest that I would simply sit by, content to be his mistress, of all things! Even the thought of it had my blood boiling in my veins. I wanted to say that I hated him, wanted to curse his name with every breath I took as I burnt any picture I could find after I’d crossed out his face.
“How dare he?” I said to my mirror as I readied myself for the day ahead. I was so angry—so enraged that I could hardly think of anything else besides the way I wished I could make him pay for treating me like I could be relegated to the position of his “mistress” for the convenience of his need for some title.
But the more I wanted to hate him, the more I so wanted to feel his touch once again. And I was more than a little conflicted on the matter of how to handle my stepbrother, especially where our business arrangement was concerned.
I had half a mind to call the whole thing off, leaving him to find a wife by his own means and leave his bad habit of playing my heart like a harpsichord far away from me and the life I’d built for myself. How could he be so unconcerned with how all of this affected me? I wasn’t the natural born daughter of a lord, I had been born common and fought my way to the place that I was at. Just one scandal was all it would take to bring my entire life crumbling to its knees.
After I was dressed I made my way down to the car waiting for me just outside, trying to keep my expression neutral as I took my seat and closed the door behind me.
“Good morning, Miss,” Franklin said, smiling at me from the rear view mirror. “I trust you slept well?”
“Well enough, I suppose,” I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I was not by any means a morning person, and after the utter foolishness involving Tristan, I was not feeling up to dealing with any of my clients today.
“Something troubling you?” Franklin asked, his brow creasing with concern as he pulled into the flow of traffic.
“Romantic entanglements,” I said, trying to keep things as vague as I could for his own benefit and mine. Franklin didn’t need to be privy to my sordid dealings, much less these flights of quasi-incestuous desire I had been prone to since Tristan spirited himself back into my life.
“Something I know you’re more than accomplished at handling, Miss Gwendolyn,” he said.
“It’s much different when you’re dealing with your own problems,” I said, leaning back in the chair.
“I imagine that you’re right, of course,” Franklin conceded dutifully.
I could usually be very open with Franklin, but the idea of involving him even the slightest bit in this scandalous behavior—even as a confidante—was not something I was willing to do.
I wasn’t at all surprised when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket, though when I looked to check the number I was shocked to find that it was Tristan and not Tina who was calling me.
“Hello?” I said as I put the phone to my ear.
“Gwen,” Tristan said, almost sounding relieved to hear my voice. The thought made my heart flutter like a bird. “I need to apologize for this morning.”
“As well you should,” I said, scowling. “I’ve half a mind to hang up right now and let you choke on your damn apology.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, heaving a sigh. “I was a complete ass and I didn’t mean to upset you. I let my mouth get ahead of my brain and ended up chewing on my foot.”
“That’s an interesting way of saying you’re a complete twit,” I muttered, sighing as I relaxed against the back seat of my car. I glanced over toward the divider between Franklin and I, careful not to let too much on as to who I might have been talking to. As though he’d read my thoughts, I watched the privacy shield slide up between us, blocking him from view behind its reflective surface. “Is that all?”
“Of course not,” he said defensively. “I don’t want you to be upset with me over something as stupid as a bad joke.”
“You know that that wasn’t a joke to me, Tristan,” I said. “I’d told you those things in all confidence and for you to just say something like that? Can you even imagine how that made me feel?”
“You’re right,” he said. “I brought up the past when I know how much that part of your life hurts you. I was an insensitive prick, and you deserved better from me.”
“You’re damn right I do,” I said, an angry brand of confidence rising up inside of me. “I deserve much better treatment than that. Especially from you, Tristan Wolfe.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, each time sounding better than the last. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to forgive me. Right now that’s all I want.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Despite my better judgement I could only hope that by trying to get back into my good graces he had meant what he said about his title and inheritance not mattering, and that he wanted to be with me. More thoughts of the night before danced through my head as I leaned my head farther back against the headrest.
“And what if I don’t forgive you, what then?” I asked, my tone leaning toward almost being flirtatious. I wanted to see how he’d react to the thought of being teased and made to work for my forgiveness.”
“I’ll do anything you ask,” he said determinedly, “we can’t be at odds when we both have a lot of work ahead of us.”
I didn’t understand. What kind of work could he be talking about. Surely, making our relationship work—especially if it was going to be a secret—would take a great deal of effort, but I got the feeling that he was distinctly referring to something else entirely.
“Sorry, I don’t think I understand what you mean,” I said, my voice faltering just slightly. Hadn’t we already passed through the hardest part? If the two of us were going to have a go of it I didn’t see what “work” there he had in mind. The way he’d said it made me nervous, a sense of dread building in my gut.
“We still need to find me a wife, don’t we?” he asked, and all at once I could feel myself falling to pieces. How could he still be intent on finding a wife? If he didn’t care about the title, then what was the point of going through with this stupid plan of his? “I mean, you were completely right this morning—everything you said was absolutely true. I’m have no follow-through or commitment. I’ve been just terrible, but I’m determined to change that. I don’t want to be the one who ruins everything for the people around me.”
I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat as I began to understand what he was saying. He was going to try to forget everything we’d done and just move on, as though somehow that would just make it all better. He expected to throw the way he felt for me out and leave me standing there, still pining for him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to crumple in on myself and just cry until I had nothing else left.
“We need to be adults about this…” he continued on, taking my silence as a cue to carry on. “I was being childish by putting you into this situation, and I’m sorry. I should never have toyed with your emotions the way that I did. We need to do the responsible thing and go on with this as planned. It’s the only way that both of us will get what we want out of this little arrangement of ours. ”
“I… yes, of course you’re right,” I stammered, doing what I could to regain my composure. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of myself in the reflective surface of the privacy screen, my mascara already beginning to run as the first hot streams of my tears made their way down my cheeks. “Carry on, and all that, I supposed.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
I had sometimes wondered what the sound of my heart breaking would be like, and it turned out to sound a lot like my stifled sobbing.
12
I invited Gwendolyn out for a quiet dinner the next day in the hopes of discussing a few more potential candidates. I made sure to find a place that the two of us would have at least some privacy while we made plans to get me tied off to a somewhat respectable woman that would have me for
so long as it took to tie the knot between us.
I arrived a few minutes before Gwen did, more than enough time to order a bottle of wine for the two of us to share. I’d gotten a good enough look at her kitchen to know the kind of wine she liked and ordered the perfect bottle to suit her tastes. I knew that trying to woo my sister was pointless at this point, that bridge had been properly burned the moment she ejected me from her bed, but despite all that I wanted to impress her, to surprise her with how much I cared for her.
When Gwen arrived she was wearing a gorgeous black dress that fit her body like a glove. Her hair was done up beautifully, pulled back into a tight bun and held in place by a pair of ornate pins. Around her neck glimmered a gorgeous choker I’d recognized from when we were younger.
The longer I watched her the more I found myself unable to stop staring as she sat down. She was utterly stunning, and the way she moved was like out of a dream. Our eyes met as she took her seat and I watched her cheeks fill with color, her eyes turning from mine in embarrassment. I could tell that she was trying to do her best to hide the way she felt, though doing a better job of it than I had been. I wasn’t sure what it was, but the moment she walked into a room, I found myself utterly captivated.
“What do you keep staring at?” she asked, frowning as she laid a folder down next to her plate—what I could only assume were the packets of information on my next perspective match. I was both curious at what she’d brought me and at the same time upset that she was being so damn helpful about going through with all of this.
“Nothing. You just look very nice,” I said, trying not to make an awkward situation any worse. I had to remind myself that I had made the decision to be an adult and go through with this scheme of mine, even though I’d like to feel myself buried in Gwen in the next five minutes, I knew that if I ever wanted to inherit my father’s title than I would have to keep my hands to myself where my stepsister was concerned from now on. If anyone had found out about what the two of us had done already there would be hell to pay.
“Thank you,” she said, though the tone to her voice was colder than I remembered. Was she upset with me? “Are you ready to get down to business?”
“What? No wine first?” I asked, beginning to pour myself a glass from the rather expensive bottle I had ordered. “I asked for one of your favorites.”
“How in the world would you know that?” she asked, eyes narrowed.
“It’s the one that’s littered around your kitchen, Gwennie,” I said, chuckling as I took a long drink. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“None for me,” she said, her eyes narrowed as she pulled out the pictures of a graceful looking young woman. Aside from a few minor details I could have mistaken the woman for Gwen if I didn’t know any better. “This is Denise Halbrook. She’s the daughter of a Member of Parliament and part of the aristocracy. I think that she might just be the perfect match.”
“Pretty enough,” I said, almost upset that Gwen was so focused on doing her job and eager to marry me off. The more I listened to her talk about this woman the more I wanted Gwen instead. I knew I shouldn’t—that I couldn’t—but watching her from across the table was almost its own brand of torture. “You really think that she’s right for me?”
“From the information that I have and what you want to achieve? Yes, absolutely,” Gwen said, laying out a few papers across the table as the waiter stood by waiting to take our order. “She’s got all the clout that you’d need to pacify your father’s inspection. She’s got it all—education, social standing, she even does charity work and keeps a rather low media profile. I have to say I’m impressed.”
I mulled the thought over as I gave the young man our order and sent him on his way, glancing down at the pictures that were strewn across the table. Sure, she was pretty, in that old money fashion, but there was something about her that didn’t seem totally on the nose. Something in her eye felt so familiar, but I couldn’t’ quite put a name to it.
“She sounds like a bit of a bore,” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. I wanted someone with a little bit of excitement, someone that I could possibly use to take my mind off of the woman I couldn’t have. Some aristocratic daughter of a nobleman would never be able to keep my attention long enough to stop me from finding someone more interesting to play with—or, even more disastrous, wandering back into Gwendolyn’s bed.
“Bore or not, you’re going to start running out of options sooner or later, Tristan,” she said. “There are only so many failed dates you can have while you’re dating within your station. The upper class are a small group, and when you botch a few dates within that circle people tend to take notice. You already have a reputation as it is that we have to break through. Be lucky anyone is interested in you after those escapades when you were younger.”
“Youthful indiscretions,” I said, waving the thought away as though it were nothing.
“Yes, I remember how little those things actually meant to you,” she shot at me quickly, her eyes narrowed in a blood-chilling glare. Admittedly, I deserved that. My younger self had been what I affectionately called a royal pick, and it was only fair that the person I’d hurt the most back in those days take her revenge. “While most of the rest of the world likes for certain things to hold a special meaning.”
It was at that moment that I caught the flash of a camera in the corner of my eye and a crowd of dirty looking men peeking in through the restaurant window, a mix of cameras and cellphones all fighting for a better angle to snap a picture at the two of us.
“Damn,” I whispered, pushing my chair back as I made ready to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Get up, we’re leaving.”
“What is it?’ she asked, turning to follow my gaze. She wasn’t used to the media following her around, so I knew it would be up to me to make sure she didn’t get cornered.
“Buzzards,” I said with no shortage of venom in my voice. I took her hand and lead her farther out of sight from the large front windows of the restaurant, slowly making our way to the kitchens. “Let’s go out the back, I’ve already covered the check.”
With a well-placed twenty-pound note, Gwen and I were smuggled out through the kitchen and out the back of the restaurant. I quickly phoned for a cab to get us both the hell out of there. Gwen’s driver Franklin wouldn’t be expecting us for another hour at most and we needed a quick escape. In a pinch the cab would do, if the paparazzi didn’t find us back here first.
“The cab should be here any moment,” I said the two of us huddled close in the alley behind the restaurant. I could feel her body so warm next to mine, looking down into her face and into those sparkling eyes. Even in the dimming light of a back ally, Gwendolyn shone like a star in the heavens, one that I coveted more than anything else in the entire world. She was a star that I wanted to hide from the world so that only I would be able to see her shine.
“Seems like no matter who I’m with, my dinner plans never seem to work out,” I chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her.
I managed to draw a smile from her as she shook her head, leaning herself back against the red brick of the restaurant’s exterior. I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was.
I wasn’t sure how it happened, but before I knew it I was pressed against her body, pushing her back against the wall of the restaurant as I tilted her head up to receive a slow, passionate kiss. For a moment I felt her body relax underneath my touch, that soft gasp escaping her lips before I felt her push me away.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, her eyes wide with shock. Despite her protest I could see the reddening in her cheeks, the rising and falling of her soft breasts inside of her blouse. I knew she’d wanted more, if only I could make her understand how much I needed her, despite what I’d said. I couldn’t stop myself.
“I need you, Gwen,” I said, sounding as though the breath had been stolen from my lungs. My stepsister stared at me as she shook her head, rubbing the bridge of her n
ose in frustration.
“No, Tristan,” she hissed, looking over her shoulder for any camera men who had found their way to our hiding spot. “We can’t do this anymore! This is no time to play out your childhood fantasy. You hired me to find you a wife, and that’s what we agreed to. That means you’re a client and I cannot be caught sleeping with a client. Let alone my own stepbrother!”
The cab pulled up into the alleyway, just enough to keep his back end from staying out in the street. Smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe, giving the alley a more polluted atmosphere. Gwen held up her hands in defeat as she took a step away from me until she reached the cab door and opened it.
“There’s no room in this cab for you, Tristan,” she said. “You’ll have to call another.”
“Gwen, wait!” I called, but she just shook her head.
“I can’t keep doing this with you, Tristan,” she said. “I just can’t do it.”
I watched her step into the cab, her gaze cast off into the street as the taxi pulled out into the back street, then sped off into the night. I stood there in that ally trying to process everything that had happened. It felt like no matter what, my life would always lead me back to Gwendolyn. It wasn’t like me to believe in the vague idea of the supernatural, I would have sworn that the two of us were fated to be together—whether we liked it or not… if only I could make her understand.
13
The next day, I barricaded myself in my office and refused to speak with any of my clients. I was an utter wreck after that fiasco of a dinner the night before. That kiss had brought my heart right into my throat and my cheeks to a deep burning red hue. All the thoughts I had tried to repress of the night we’d spent together all came flooding back to me in that moment. It was too much for me to handle at once. I had to get out of there. I had to escape.
