Covet Me

by Geneva Lee

  “It doesn’t sound like it, beautiful,” I teased. “Don’t hold it against me. Providing evidence to the contrary is my job.”

  “You aren’t my lawyer,” she reminded me, propping open one eyelid.

  “Consider me a witness for the defense.”

  “Are you defending yourself?” she asked.

  “I’ve gotten quite good at it over the years.”

  The light banter had proved my case. I needed to move her attention away from the trouble brewing at home. After staying up all night, showing her exactly what I had to offer as part of my proposition, she needed rest. “Sleep,” I repeated.

  “Why does that sound like a threat?” She yawned as she spoke, frowning when she realized I was right.

  “Because it is a threat,” I told her. “Once I have you home, you won’t be sleeping much. Last night was only a preview of what’s to come. There won’t be a divider between us forever.”

  “I might have to take a separate bedroom. Maybe you were onto something at your old house,” she said, referencing the private quarters I’d given her. She hadn’t once slept in them.

  “Our house. Our bed.” I liked the sound of it, and from the way she grinned sleepily, she did as well, even if she was going to be a little shit about it. No ring, but she had agreed to move in. Not that it had even been up for negotiation. I needed to be assured of her safety at all times. I assumed we had two days—a week at the most—before news of our domestic arrangement reached Hammond. That would give me enough time to hire a private security detail and a driver. That hadn’t been a part of the discussion either, and I knew when I finally revealed the expectations, she wasn’t going to be happy.

  She’d have to learn to live with it—and me.

  “You’re so demanding.” Another yawn. “Caveman.”

  “Later I’ll throw you over my shoulder and show you how primitive I can be. But for now, sleep.”

  Her eyelids drifted down, and a few minutes later, her breathing took on a steady rhythm. The flight attendant returned, and I sent back Belle’s cup after accepting my own. Sipping the cocktail, I memorized the peaceful, dreamy expression she wore, etching the curve of her cheekbones and the dent of her lip. I stored the image deep inside me where I kept all my memories of her. It was a place that couldn’t be touched—that couldn’t be stolen from me. No matter what happened, I would have those moments until I drew my last breath.

  Abandoning my drink, I absentmindedly rubbed my own bare finger. I’d once thought wearing a wedding band was worse than being collared. I’d watched acquaintances and colleagues accept the shackles and then proceed to spend the years complaining about their restraints. Most of the people I knew who married wound up divorced. I had no doubt that Margot and I had been on the way there ourselves when she died. I’d already spoken to a lawyer, the same one who’d drawn up our prenuptial agreement.

  I’d made a mistake marrying my first wife. I’d been young and blinded by her dazzling smile. But I’d protected myself.

  There would be no need for that with Belle, which was why I’d walked into Tiffany and purchased the diamond band that she’d relegated to her carry-on. I’d made my decision. Now I just had to convince her that I hadn’t lost my mind. My thoughts returned to the night before. She was lucky there was a divider or I’d start working on my case immediately.

  Suddenly London felt even farther away. I groaned and spread a blanket over my lap. Sleep felt like a very good idea. She needed rest, and I needed to escape the erection that was bound to last more than four hours. Belle sighed in her sleep, her lips turning up at the corners, as if she’d heard my thoughts in her dream.

  “Sweet dreams, beautiful,” I muttered as I adjusted my cock and closed my eyes, reminding myself that I could, in fact, keep my hands off her for seven hours.

  Even if I didn’t want to.

  Heathrow was a zoo when we finally made our way through customs and headed to get our luggage. I took each step slowly, dreading what lay before me. I hadn’t mentioned to Smith that I’d failed to tell my friends that I didn’t need a ride from the airport. Instead I held his hand, leaching whatever strength I could in preparation for the inevitable confrontation waiting for me.

  I spotted Edward’s curly hair before we’d reached the bottom of the escalator. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a long t-shirt. No doubt in an attempt to blend into the crowd. Not that he could if he wanted. More than a few people were whispering excitedly as they passed him by, but he didn’t seem to notice. My stomach lurched as his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for me, and I silently cursed Lola for not being the one to come inside to retrieve me. Edward’s gaze landed on me as we stepped off, and his welcoming smile vanished immediately when he saw I wasn’t alone. It was too late to disappear into the crowd. I’d been spotted, and from the looks of it, there was no way I was escaping an explanation for the sudden reappearance of my ex-lover.

  Where was a firing squad when you needed it? I’d much rather be facing one of those than the disappointment plastered across Edward’s face.

  Edward glared at me as we made our way toward him at the baggage claim. He caught me in a hug as soon as we reached him, muttering, “Most people bring home a t-shirt as a souvenir.”

  “Watch it,” I warned him. I knew there was no way to avoid this fight. I’d known it when I purposefully chose not to cancel his plans to pick me up.

  Edward straightened up, puffing his chest a little as he stuck out his hand. Smith accepted, shaking it. The gesture was courteous on both parts, but it was far from friendly. The two had a long way to go.

  “If you two are done beating your chests, can we get the luggage?” I darted away, leaving them to continue their show of masculinity.

  Smith followed me, grabbing my hand and spinning me toward him. I didn’t have time to process anything but the firmness of his lips on mine as he captured my mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. A self-respecting girl would have pushed him away, but I melted into him instead. When he pulled back, he shook his head. I’d hear about this later.

  Two fights in my future, and I’d only just hit solid ground.

  “I suppose you’ll be riding with him,” Smith said, glancing over his shoulder. Edward glowered back.

  “Yes.” This wasn’t up for debate, but he didn’t fight me on it.

  Smith retrieved our bags, but he didn’t pass mine along. “I’ll take this to the house. See you there tonight.”

  I winced as I nodded. There was no way Edward was going to miss that.

  He grudgingly handed me off to my best friend with another kiss goodbye and made his way toward the car park.

  Edward said nothing as we left. When we reached the pavement, Lola waved to us from the driver’s seat of her car. She frowned, tipping up her sunglasses as I climbed in beside her.

  “Did they lose your bags?” she asked.

  “Nope. Bags are safe,” Edward answered for me. “Her mind is another story.”

  “Should we go then?” Lola sounded as confused as I felt.

  “Yes,” I said with a sigh.

  She popped her glasses down and hit her turn signal as she made her way into the airport traffic. Lola didn’t require further explanation, but I knew I wasn’t getting out of this that easily.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and braced myself, but Edward remained silent. I’d completely sidelined him. I knew that, but I didn’t deserve the silent treatment. This was hardly the first time anyone in our close-knit group of friends had made up with an ex. I’d expected reproof, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear, especially with Edward sitting like a giant, seething lump of disapproval behind me.

  “Are you going to yell at me or what?” I finally snapped when I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “For what?” he asked. “I have no bloody clue what just happened.”

  “Is this about the bags?” Lola’s eyes darted to me and I shook my head.

  “This is about Belle get
ting off the plane with Smith Price,” Edward informed her.

  “What?” Lola exclaimed, squealing in excitement.

  “No! We aren’t happy about this,” Edward interjected, flopping against the back seat.

  “We aren’t?” she asked. Looking over at me, she repeated herself, “We aren’t?”

  “He isn’t,” I explained. “I’m…confused.”

  “Did you go mad? Price treated you like shit. He hurt you! So badly that you wouldn’t even talk about it. How the hell did you even run into him? Aren’t there millions of people in New York?”

  Lola bit her lip as if she was holding something back. Edward couldn’t see the gesture from his seat, but I caught it. She shot me a guilty look over the rim of her glasses.

  “I told him she was going,” she admitted in a quiet voice.

  “Do you mind pulling over?” Edward asked. “I don’t think either of you are sane enough to operate a moving vehicle.”

  “Oh, sod off. She’s an adult.”

  “That’s questionable,” he muttered.

  “You told him I was going to New York?” I asked her.

  “It was more like I bragged about it,” she said, tapping the steering wheel nervously. “I caught him slinking around outside the office.”

  “You what?” This was news to me. “You might have mentioned that.”

  “Well, I didn’t know why he was there, so I told him you were busy getting ready to head to New York for an important interview. Look, I thought I was doing you a favor. No man likes to hear that their ex is moving on.”

  She had done me a favor, even if Edward was glaring murderously at her.

  “Thank you,” I said sincerely. “We spent some time together and talked.”

  “And then you shagged each other, and he managed to convince you to come crawling back.”

  That stung. Edward had no clue how complicated things were between us. But now, more than ever, I needed his support.

  “I’m in love with him,” I announced. “And if you don’t like it, you can suck a big one.”

  It came out more immature than it had sounded in my head. Next to me, Lola began to shake before she dissolved into giggles.

  “Noted,” she said between laughs.

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Edward appeared unmoved by my proclamation.

  I swiveled in my seat and met his gaze. “I don’t need your approval, but I’d like it anyway. Your opinion means a lot to me. I know Smith can be a little hard to get a handle on.”

  “Impossible, you mean.” He exhaled and then smiled. “I want you to be happy. I just hope he doesn’t cock things up. Promise me that you’ll take things slowly.”

  Now didn’t seem like a good time to mention the diamond wedding band burning a hole in my purse. I hadn’t been sure what to expect when my friends found out that Smith was back in my life. Thankfully they had no clue how precarious our situation truly was. I’d keep that—and Smith’s unorthodox proposal—to myself for the time being.

  “I will,” I lied.

  “So when he said he’d see you at home…” Edward trailed off, leaving me scrambling for an answer.

  In the end, I went with the truth. I’d have to keep enough from him in the coming months as it was. “I’m moving in with him.”

  “We have very different ideas of what taking it slowly means,” he said flatly.

  “I never moved in with Philip. I’m not making the same mistake with Smith.” It was a pitiful excuse, and judging from Edward’s tight-lipped reaction, he thought so, too.

  “I heard from several designers,” Lola said, switching the subject. I shot her a grateful smile.

  “Which ones?”

  She rattled off a list, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Tomorrow I needed to focus on Bless, but right now I was still reeling from all the changes I’d brought home with me. Smith had seen this coming when he asked me to uproot my life. That’s why he’d left the decision, quite literally, in my hands. I was the one who had to live with the consequences. The only comfort was that I’d be doing it with him by my side.

  Jet lag was the perfect excuse to escape the uncomfortable tension that permeated the car, and as soon as I was in my flat, I dropped my bags. Drooping against the door, I tried to fight how deflated I already felt. Edward’s disapproval agitated me. I didn’t like being on the outs with a friend, especially over a man.

  Especially since that man was going nowhere.

  But there was nothing for it, and Smith expected me across town. After sleeping on the plane, I was wide-awake and somehow still exhausted. Tomorrow I had to get my butt in gear. Tonight I had to sort through the events of the last twenty-four hours.

  My gaze traveled through the flat’s open floor plan. This flat, and another just like it, had been my home for the last year and a half. But the sense of comfort I usually found when returning through its doors was absent, replaced by restlessness. I didn’t belong here anymore, but did I belong at Smith’s? Both options felt like little more than shelter at this point.

  “I thought I heard you.” My aunt swept into the room in a pair of silk pajamas. “You look tired.”

  “I am and I’m not,” I told her as she reached for a bottle of wine. “None for me.”

  “I’ll drink a glass in your honor then,” she said dryly. “Dare I ask about the trip?”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start.” I slid onto a chair, propping my elbows up at the table.

  “How was the interview?” she asked as she poured herself a drink and joined me.

  I snorted. How was it possible that the least interesting aspect of my business trip was the actual business? “It was a no go. The editor proved to be a first-rate bitch.”

  “At least you have experience dealing with that type.”

  “Speaking of Mum, has she called you?” I already knew the answer.

  “Daily.” Jane’s lips pursed in distaste.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” Add that to the list of chores I was dreading. I still hadn’t bothered to look at the paperwork she’d sent over regarding the estate. I’d meant to call my brother and have him review the documents. Instead I’d wound up across the Atlantic. It seemed I was turning avoiding my mother into an art.

  “It doesn’t matter. What else do I have to do? Frederick locked himself in the studio to finish his latest opus.”

  Despite the chaos I found myself in, I smiled. Listening to Jane discuss her conquests was the best distraction in the world, but even her wild stories couldn’t completely deter me from thinking about my own romantic entanglements.

  “You’ve been married. Why?” I blurted the question out of nowhere.

  Jane sat her glass slowly on the table. “I take it there’s a reason for this question.”

  My cheeks burned but I managed to nod.

  “I have, and I haven’t.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’ve had husbands, Belle, but I’ve never really been married. That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I admitted, laughing with her.

  “Men have asked me to marry them, and I’ve complied. Some died. Some left. But I never truly felt married to any of them.”

  “I guess that explains why some days you’re an old maid and others you’re a divorcée.” Jane’s twisted idea of lovers had always amused me, even though it also confused the hell out of me.

  “Some days I’m more one than the other.” She tapped her glass. “I’m guessing you want to know why.”

  I did want to know, because right now I needed to understand—understand why some people got married and others didn’t. And why some marriages lasted a lifetime and others failed. I was grasping for answers I wasn’t certain existed, but I was more than willing to listen to anyone that would talk about it.

  “I loved a man once. If that sounds like the start of a sad story, it is.”

  “What happened to him?” I asked her in a quiet voice.

  “Life. Prid
e. Fear. It’s much easier to pretend to make a commitment you don’t really intend on keeping than it is to face the prospect of giving everything you are to one person. That takes trust.”

  “And you didn’t trust him?”

  “I didn’t trust myself,” she clarified, running a hand over her platinum hair. “And by the time I did, it was too late. He married someone else.”

  “Do you still miss him?”

  “Every day. I regret it. Lovers distract me, but no one has ever filled the void his absence left in my life. Maybe that’s why I said yes whenever a man asked me to marry him. I was scared that I might look back on that relationship with the same regret.”

  “So if you could, would you change it?”

  “I’m an old, wealthy woman who’s seen more of the world than most. The politically correct thing to say would be no. But yes, if I could go back, I would change things.” She shrugged, her eyes growing distant. “Perhaps I would have regretted that course of action. I’ll never know and I guess that’s what eats at me.”

  She settled against her chair, her gaze zeroing in on me. “Now tell me why you asked.”

  “Because I’m afraid.” I swallowed hard on my confession. It was difficult to admit that I was scared of what I wanted most in the world—precisely because I wanted it.

  “Then take my advice, love. Do what scares you. It’s what keeps you alive. It’s far better to live with the regret of a relationship that doesn’t work out than to live with the pain of loss.” Reaching across the table, she took my hand in hers. “I’m guessing you have a lot more to tell me about New York.”

  “Yes,” I whispered. But I wasn’t ready to share yet. Not until I’d come to grips with my own decision.

  “When you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” She didn’t pressure me for more information.

  Tears smarted in my eyes, and I gripped her hand fiercely. “Thank you.”

  “If I have to live my mistakes, at least you can learn from them.” She squeezed my hand before releasing it. “Now do you want a glass of wine?”