by Tara Leigh
“Oh, hey.” Reina pointed to a restaurant with a red awning stretching over a cluster of tables. “I know that place. Lots of brunch options, and they make the best Bloody Marys.”
Reina
There were a handful of tables available inside, and a line of people waiting for the one open table outside, but of course, after a brief conversation with Tristan, the hostess escorted us to it immediately. How does he do that? After I sat down in the chair he held out for me, trying not to simper like a ninny at the old-fashioned gesture, I asked him.
Tristan flashed a grin that warmed me from the inside out. I was a sucker for a good smile, and his was seductive and intimate, not the kind he would give to just anyone. This one, I knew, was reserved solely for me. “Magic.”
I gave a half-hearted eye-roll, wondering if his magic came from his billfold or the fact that the hostess had looked as if she wanted to jump his bones from the moment he walked in the door. Seriously, I should probably worry about her slipping something into my food to get me out of her way.
My egg-white omelet with sundried tomatoes and pesto was definitely worth the risk, though, and my Bloody Mary probably had enough vodka and horseradish to kill all but the most vicious toxin. Halfway through my meal, I plucked a french fry from Tristan’s plate and nearly moaned at the crispy, salty deliciousness. French fries were my kryptonite. “You were right, you know.”
“About ordering real food rather than whatever it is on your plate?”
No question, his side of fries was definitely better than the dandelion greens accompanying my eggs. But that wasn’t what I was referring to. “About getting out of the apartment. This is nice.” Maybe I would get used to the whole dating thing.
Tristan reached across the table for my hand. “Yeah, it is.”
I resisted. It was such a boyfriend/girlfriend thing to do, like holding hands as we walked down the street had been. How far could we push the envelope before getting caught? “What if someone sees us?” His grin faltered, and I relented, his fingers closing around mine.
“What if they do?” It was a bright, clear day, and neither of us was wearing sunglasses. The challenge in his gaze was obvious.
“They might get the wrong idea,” I said.
“About what?”
I took another sip of my cocktail before answering. “About us.”
Tristan was enjoying this. “That we’re hungry?”
It was almost impossible to be cross with him, but I was trying. “That we’re a couple. Someone might think we’re a couple.”
“And that would be bad.”
I nodded. “Very bad.”
“For you, or for me?”
“For both of us.”
Tristan dropped his smile, looking as serious as if we were talking about a risky trade. “I’m a big boy, Reina. I can handle myself. And I won’t let anything happen to you, not because of me.”
My stomach lurched. It was one thing to spend the weekend in bed together, to eat takeout and watch movies. To hide. But were we really ready for public scrutiny? For any scrutiny at all?
It would be so easy to give in. To just follow Tristan’s lead and sit here holding hands and enjoying our lunch date. But I fought the urge, knowing how much was at stake. I was used to being relegated to the shadows, had learned to find comfort in them. The two of us, in public, in the bright light of day, no less . . . I felt like a mole forced above ground, blinded by the sun. Every instinct told me to dive back into my safe, dark tunnel. But I was held captive—by Tristan’s strong grip, by the weight of his stare.
“A scandal could tarnish your reputation, just when you’re starting to make a name for yourself. Are you sure—” I licked my suddenly dry lips. “Are you sure I’m worth it?”
Tristan
I like to think of myself as a roll-with-the-punches kind of guy. It takes a lot to shock me, or make me lose my temper. Reina’s question did both. What fuckwad had convinced her that she was worthless? I wanted to know his name. I wanted to know where he lived. Because I wanted to shove his balls down his throat, and feed his dick to the pigeons hungrily eyeing our food from their perch on the awning above. And that was just where I planned to start. With a huge effort, I blinked away the haze of red clouding my vision and focused on Reina’s earnest face. “Yes. I am, one hundred percent.”
Reina fidgeted in her seat. She wanted her hand back, I could tell. I was going to give it to her, just not yet. “Listen, I’m going to let you in on a secret, but only because it’s something you should already know.”
She leaned forward, expectant. “Okay.”
“I’ve never exactly tried to come up with a standard for valuing women, but if I did, you would blow away every conceivable benchmark I could come up with.” A flush rose up on her cheeks and she looked away. “Reina, look at me.” I waited until she did before continuing. I wasn’t one to dole out gratuitous praise, and I needed her to know I meant every word of what I was about to say. “Your worth is immeasurable. You have curves that would make an hourglass jealous. Your face would put Helen of Troy to shame. And your mind gives Michael Lewis a run for his money. Whatever happens with us, don’t ever let anyone relegate you to the corners of their life. Do you understand? You deserve to be center stage, top billing. Nothing less. Promise me.”
Reina’s eyes widened, sending green-gold sparks my way, and her hand trembled within mine. I waited for her to swallow, to take a breath, to respond to me. Come on, you can do it.
“I promise.”
I gave a last, small squeeze, and then released my grip. Reina flashed me a relieved smile, dabbing at her face with a napkin as she excused herself to the ladies’ room. If I thought they were anything but happy tears, I would have followed her. Our plates were cleared, and I ordered a second round to replace the half-drunk concoctions that remained.
“Tristan.”
Lost in my thoughts, I was entirely unprepared to face the woman standing expectantly by my side. Holy shit.
Reina
I staggered from the table, Tristan’s affirming words reverberating in my mind. And as a reminder, as soon as I returned to my crappy apartment, I was going to break out my glitter pens, and commit every single one he’d just said to paper. I would frame each compliment and hang them on my walls. Not that I would ever forget the three best sentences I’d ever heard, or Tristan’s throaty drawl when he’d said them. But I wanted to see them too, in full glittery glory.
In the ladies’ room, I splashed at my stinging eyes with water. I think it was finally sinking in—after a lifetime spent fighting, I’d finally found a man worth fighting for. Tristan was worth the risk to my career, worth the potentially damning consequences. Because whatever they were, I could handle them. So what if I’d fallen in love with my boss? It didn’t negate my intelligence or work ethic. This was Wall Street, for god’s sake. A place where success was quantified in dollars and cents, profit and loss. As long as my investments made money, no one could say a damn thing about my love life.
I’d waited my whole life for someone to see me, to really see me, and to want me too. And I wanted him right back. Every bit as much as my career.
It was crazy. Crazy good. I never expected to feel that way about anyone, but Tristan was too good to be true. I was falling for him. Hard.
But even as I said it to myself, a small frisson of doubt invaded my euphoric haze. What if Tristan really was too good to be true? That person he spoke so highly of back at the table—that was the woman I’d allowed him to see. The woman with the Mona Lisa smile and no baggage. Tristan still didn’t know all of me. I still hadn’t let him in, not completely. Maybe it wouldn’t matter, or maybe it would. But either way, until I was honest, I was just an imposter.
I blew my nose, dried my face, straightened my spine. It was time to tell Tristan who Reina St. James really was. If he still wanted me, the real me, I was his.
Tristan
“Elise.” I rose, stiffly returning her embr
ace. Dumb move. She took the opportunity to slide into Reina’s vacant seat.
“What a treat running into you,” she enthused. “It’s been forever.”
Forever hadn’t lasted long enough. “I didn’t know you were back in New York. You look well.”
“Thank you.” In sharp contrast to Reina, Elise’s beauty only ran skin deep. “I’m not back for long.” She extended her hand, the enormous rock on her finger casting shards of light onto the tablecloth. “Derek and I are just here for the Met Gala. We’ll be returning to London next week.”
“Is your child with you?”
Elise reared back as if I’d slapped her. “Of course not. He’s in Paris. With his father.”
So she’d had a boy. If not for that unexpected visit, I would be raising a son right now. Imagining a towhead with eyes as bright as freshly cut grass, a pang of sadness hit me in the solar plexus. “Derek isn’t the same guy—”
“Of course not. Pierre and I would never have worked. No, I met Derek not long after I got my body back. He knows about my son, of course. But our lives are too full for a child right now. He lives with his father and we make sure he’s well provided for.”
It wasn’t difficult to read between the lines. Elise was happy to cut a check so that her life wouldn’t be hampered by the responsibilities of raising another human being. Becoming a soccer mom had never been part of her plan. Her interest in me had been twofold: my cash and my connections. A baby was just the cheese in her trap. What had I ever seen in her?
Beneath the table, my leg was bouncing up and down. Elise represented a time in my life when I’d taken too much at face value. I’d learned my lesson, and that mindset belonged firmly in the past. Never again would I let myself fall for a woman who could lie so easily, and with so little remorse.
I’d thought getting involved with Reina was a risk, but I was wrong. The greater risk was letting her get away.
Reina
Feeling terrified but determined, I picked my way through the crowded restaurant, eager to finally come clean to Tristan. But when I came within sight of our table, he wasn’t alone. In my seat was an elegant woman, maybe late twenties, thirty at the most. Polished. Well-dressed. And besides the diamond covering her ring finger from knuckle to knuckle, her other jewelry was understated, though no less exquisite. Her bag was Chanel, as was her pale pink tweed suit. A genuine Park Avenue Princess—the kind of woman I’d told Tristan he should be with. They looked good together, like they matched. Perfectly.
Suddenly his words didn’t seem so affirming. Maybe I was just a rebound. Maybe he was just incredibly good at telling people what they wanted to hear. I’d witnessed it first hand on the road, while he was meeting with potential investors. Tristan had a knack for seizing on the motivations of others, turning them to his advantage with a few well-reasoned, well-timed remarks. Was that what had just happened?
They had history, I could tell. And then I looked closer, at the woman’s haughty posture, her pursed lips. Tristan’s face was flushed, and he’d pushed his chair back from the table, as far as it could go without bumping into the person behind him. Whatever had happened between them, it hadn’t ended well. I debated staying back for a little longer, giving them time to catch up. But then I saw a look of revulsion cross his face, an expression so naked, so obvious, I didn’t hesitate to join his side. Pulling me into his lap was a surprise, though not an unwelcome one.
“What the hell took you so long?” Tristan growled the rhetorical question into my ear and I watched Elise recoil, her eyes narrowing as she studied me. I seriously was going to burn my clothes as soon as I peeled them off. My hoodie-wearing days were definitely over, at least if Tristan and I were going to be a thing. I might be ten years his junior, but the least I could do was look like a sophisticated twenty-something.
Before I could respond, Tristan introduced us, making no attempt to request another chair, or dislodge me from my perch. “Elise, this is my girlfriend, Reina St. James.”
My girlfriend. I could get used to that.
Elise didn’t address me directly. “My goodness, Tristan, I didn’t realize you had taken to swimming in the kiddie pool.”
Ouch. My smile faltered. So much for taking a few minutes to bask in my newly assigned title. Girlfriend. Tristan’s girlfriend.
Tristan gave a tight smile, tightened his hold on my waist. “Crazy, right? You look so much older than Reina, no one would ever guess you’re only a few years apart.”
I blanched. Whoa, who knew Tristan could fight, mean-girl style?
“Although, since you’re a mother now, I thought you might spend some time in the shallow end yourself. But I should have known it’s just a character trait you favor, not a destination.”
Elise’s jaw gaped open, taken aback by Tristan’s harsh smackdown, but he still wasn’t finished. “Good-bye, Elise. I’d like to enjoy the rest of my day with a woman who doesn’t make me question the future of the human race.”
And then he kissed me. In front of Elise. In front of everyone sitting at the tables surrounding us. In full view of anyone walking by. It wasn’t a get-a-room kind of kiss, but it was definitely a possessive, ownership-marking statement that made my toes curl, even inside my tattered Converse.
There was a sharp scraping noise as Elise pushed back from the table and stalked off, but there was no clap of thunder. No swarm of locusts. I was drowning in lust, drowning in Tristan. The world stayed on its axis, though. We pulled away, slowly, just as our waiter came bounding up with our second round. He set it on the table and left.
“Meow. You never told me you could hang with the big cats. Jeez, remind me to never get in a whose-claws-are-sharper contest with you.” I slid off of Tristan’s lap, reclaiming my own seat. “So, who was that?”
He sighed, lifting his glass. “Everything I hate most. A liar. A social climber. A woman who doesn’t know the first thing about the meaning of family.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
@BettencourtBets: Rumor: IVy’s odds of success just got longer. Is a high roller making a play for Bettencourt?
Tristan
As I launched into my history with Elise, Reina remained mostly quiet, sipping her drink slowly. Elise was gone, and good riddance, but as I recounted my history with her, there was an edge to my voice, a cinderblock of tension between my shoulder blades. Narrating my past drama was nearly as bad as living it had been. The jumble of excitement and uncertainty at thinking I was going to be a parent came rushing back, along with the outrage of being taken for a fool. Was it so difficult to find a woman who was honest about who she was, what she wanted?
I voiced my question to Reina, taking her wide-eyed nod as agreement.
As we wandered hand-in-hand around my neighborhood after leaving the restaurant, it wasn’t long before we wound up back on my street. I craved the sureness of sex, the authenticity of speaking with my body rather than words. Holding Reina’s hand wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. I wanted to devour her, lose myself in her, drive her wild with everything I’d ever learned about pleasing a woman. And then I wanted to learn all the places, all the desires that were particular only to her. Because it was finally beginning to dawn on me that I might never need, or want, another woman again.
As soon as the thought popped into my head, I pushed it away. Never fuck another woman for the rest of my life? The idea was completely anathema. I wasn’t exactly a manwhore, but I’d never objected to variety. Could one woman ever be enough?
Then again, I’d never met a woman more enticing than Reina.
“Is it wrong that the only place I want to be right now is inside of you?” I asked, my voice a gritty whisper as we waited for the elevator.
“If I didn’t want the very same thing, I suppose it would be.” She answered quietly, running the crown of her head along the underside of my chin in a caress. Equal parts sweet and sexy
It was only out of respect to the octogenarian and her bedraggled poodle sharing our car that I
didn’t push the emergency stop button and take her right there. Instead I used the time to get my keys out of my pocket, had the right one poised and ready before the doors opened. We left a trail of clothes to the bedroom, and then into the shower. After my exchange with Elise, I felt dirty.
Reina set the overhead lights to a dim setting, welcome after the bright day outside, and I adjusted the water temperature with a few quick flicks of my wrist. I got in first, pulling Reina in after me. She hadn’t commented on the way I’d introduced her earlier, as my girlfriend, and I didn’t know if I should bring it up again. If I could, I’d brand Reina with a mark of ownership. Something that would tell the whole world she was mine.
Lust was good. It overpowered anger, disgust, uncertainty. The powerful spray was another layer of sensation I eagerly shrouded myself in.
Reina’s skin was even softer when wet, and her blonde cloud flattened as the water cascaded down on her, pointing like an arrow to her delectable ass. With a groan, I squeezed her cheeks, pulling her against me. Her lips slipped across mine, a teasing brush that left me wanting more. Reina was too goddamn sexy for words. Buttoned up and all business one minute, and cute as a coed the next. But right now, naked and open, there was no artifice. Only need.
As I bent forward, Reina’s spine arched into me, pressing her even closer still. I tugged at her bottom lip, running my tongue along her teeth, tasting the mix of Reina’s natural sweetness and the lingering spiciness from her Bloody Mary. She was sunshine and moonlight, temptress and innocent.
I drank in her sweet sighs, each one making me harder. Her hands edged between us, sending ripples of pleasure beneath my skin as they slid down my abdomen. No. Not yet.
Desperate for a minute to clear my head, to focus on Reina instead of the throbbing between my thighs, I spun her around, holding her tight against me. “Spread your legs,” I commanded, adjusting the jets on the opposite wall to spray her breasts and sex with pressure that was insistent, but not overwhelming. I wanted to hold her as she came apart in my arms. Before I would let myself come apart in hers.
