by H. M. Ward
“Listen! Darcy is Grant’s adopted brother. I didn’t think anything of it until Grant touched you and Darcy nearly exploded. You should’ve seen him, Beth.”
Awh, he does care.
"He’s too late. Why does he care now? He’s been here for hours—”
Jane interjects, “An hour.”
“—watching me dance—”
“Not in a stalkery way, Beth.”
“—and didn’t bother to come over and say hi! Who does that? Who does that with a woman and then doesn’t say hi? Fine. I’m mad. If he doesn’t like Grant, that sucks for him.”
Jane blinks, her eyes cut side to side, and she leans in. “I think I missed something.”
I throw up my hands and glare at Darcy. “So did I! Jackass!” I squeak when I see Darcy make a beeline for Grant. “Hell, no. This isn’t happening.”
Cameron is standing between Darcy and Grant, smiling but fearful. Grant’s expression is smug as he talks to his brother. Darcy’s expression grows darker by the moment, and enough tension laces through his jaw that it barely moves as he speaks. I can’t hear the conversation, but I see Darcy’s lips form my name. Grant throws his head back in a laugh and sits back down at the bar.
Bunch of stupid fucktards can't keep their shit to themselves for one freaking night. I just wanted a couple of hours of mindless fun. Is that too much to ask?
Yes, yes it is. Grrrr.
I smile placidly and place my fingertips on the table. “Boys.”
Darcy glares at me—it’s an I-hate-you stare magnified to the tenth power. “Miss Bennet.”
“I've just been catching up with my brother," Grant says, shooting me a sexy smile as Jane walks up behind me. “I hear you two have already met.”
“Rather intimately, yes.” I hold Darcy’s gaze as I speak. "Apparently that was a handshake, though, because I never saw him again. My mistake.”
Darcy’s eyes narrow to slits. He’s livid! Him! He doesn’t even say anything!
Cameron laughs an octave too high. “Beth and Jane are dear friends, so of course they’ve met William.”
“William is one of a kind.” Grant says with an air of sarcasm in his voice. “Jane, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. You’re just as lovely as your sister.”
“Thank you?” She looks at me questioning. Leaning in close to my ear, she hisses, “Handshake? I can’t believe you said that out loud. Does that mean what I think it means?”
I frown. I want to yell out, I HATE EVERYONE! LEAVE ME ALONE! But I can’t. Darcy is shooting lasers out of his striking blue eyes, and Cameron looks like he’s going to puke. Meanwhile, Jane is wondering if she’s been shaking hands properly.
I look to Grant, beseechingly. He catches on. “Now, if you don’t mind, I haven’t had a chance to dance.” He holds out his hand. “Shall we?”
I reach for my glass and toss back the amber liquid. Slamming it down on the table, I say, “Hell, yes.”
CHAPTER 19
I feel Darcy’s eyes follow me onto the dance floor. The pulsing music blares over the speakers. I swing my hips, moving to the beat. Grant’s behind me, his hands on my hips. I place my hands on his hands, swaying in rhythm with him. With each move we make, his toned body presses into me until I feel his hardness against my back.
Lifting my hands off his, I weave my fingers through my hair and then into the air. I’m waving my arms, moving my body, inviting him to touch me. Grant’s hands drift up my waist, his fingers brushing the sides of my breasts. I bite my lip in response to the heated sensation. His touch slowly glides down my waist again and skims my bare thighs.
I reach back and clutch the back of his neck. He dips his head, brushing his lips against my earlobe, against my throat. I suck in a breath, wondering if this is a good idea. The last guy I kissed ditched me. I can feel his stalkery gaze burning a hole in my back.
With everything going on, I just want to forget for a little while. Does that mean I’m a bad person? I don’t see Darcy asking to cut in. Hell, he didn’t even talk to me after the poolside pat down, which is too bad. I would have liked that.
No, Beth, stop it. I don’t want to wallow in the past. I think that’s a huge part of what’s wrong with this family—we don’t move forward. So we have no money. So what? We have each other, and that’s what matters.
I’m not going to live my life looking backward and longing for what could have been. I refuse.
I have a hot guy who’s into me right here, right now, and he’s giving me his undivided attention. I should do the same.
The quick beat of the bass hammers into my chest, pulling me back to the present. The combination of music and touch are intoxicating. The spinning lights make me dizzy, drunk with sensation. It’s a familiar feeling, one I feel too rarely.
What about love? The voice in the back of my head keeps nagging. You said you’d only kiss a guy you loved. You said you’d only sleep with a man who loved you back. What the hell are you doing!
Inner Me sounds shrill, as she beats my brain with one of the books I've read. Past mistakes and heartbreaks flash behind my eyes, and I realize that nothing turns out the way I plan. It doesn’t matter if there’s love or not.
And it won’t matter tonight. I’m breaking my rule. Fuck it.
Grant spins me around, and I’m between his legs with his hand on the small of my back. Ordinarily this kind of dancing would send me running the opposite direction, but not tonight. My pulse quickens as his hips grind against mine, his honey brown eyes growing dark with desire. I place one arm on his shoulder, the other finding its way low on his back.
The singer’s voice drifts through the club asking if the rumor is true, if the man loves her, daring him to touch her. For some reason, I look over Grant’s shoulder searching for Darcy.
When I find him, he’s standing alone, his arms folded across his broad chest. His handsome face is a mask under the flashing strobe lights. His eyes lock with mine for a moment, and I catch my breath. Then, suddenly, his head jerks to the left as if something caught his attention. His eyes widen with alarm, and he quickly charges through the crowd.
I turn to see what could cause him to freak out like that. Gwen’s still dancing with Jon Ferro, gripping his shoulders and laughing as he tries to hold her up. Oh, no! She looks drunk.
Darcy clutches her arm, and she scowls. She slaps his hand away and tries to leave. She stumbles and Darcy catches her. Jon tries to speak, but Darcy ignores him, placing an arm under Gwen. Her face contorts with rage, and she’s beating his arm, but Darcy ignores her, dragging her from the dance floor against her will.
No matter how drunk she is I don't think dragging her from the club like a fit-throwing toddler is the right thing to do. Poor Gwen. How does she tolerate him?
When they reach the top level of the club, Anne meets them. I want to slap that self-righteous look off her face. As if she never drank a little too much, a little too fast. Add in the condescending sneer and I’d like to pull her hair out.
Darcy whispers in her ear and Anne quickly goes to the table where Cameron and Jane are sitting. Cameron and Jane get up from their seats immediately and follow Anne out the door. I wonder if I should intervene, but she’s not my sister. Their solution isn’t bad, just embarrassing. I frown, trying to think of some way to help Gwen, but come up with nothing. Since Jane left with them, I know Gwen is in good hands. Cameron is sweet, too, and will make sure Darcy doesn’t do something stupid.
“What’s wrong?” Grant yells over the music, noticing the irritation on my face. His hot body moves seductively against mine, barely touching, teasing me.
I suck in a shaky breath and say what I’ve been thinking all night. “Nothing’s wrong. Would you like to go someplace more quiet?”
His lips curl into a sexy smile. “I'd like nothing more.”
CHAPTER 20
We've barely stepped into Grant’s penthouse high above the city before he spins me around and pins me against the door, kissing me deeply. As if of their o
wn will, my hands slide up his hard chest, touching, feeling, making me dizzy. I might be a little drunk. It’s been too long since I’ve been with anyone and I'm desperate for his skin to meet mine.
I frantically work the buttons of his shirt, stripping it away and revealing taut muscles underneath. I trace the firm cords of his chest, drifting teasingly down, further, further, until my fingertips dip along the waist of his belt. He moans, pressing his hardness against my stomach.
A tingle sparks along my spine as his lips trail down my neck. When he reaches my shoulder he pauses, shifting the fabric of my dress over the swell and down my arm.
His lips sweep across my collarbone in the opposite direction, displacing the fabric from my other shoulder. I lift my arms slightly, letting the dress cascade down my body to pool my feet.
His eyes simmer with lust, drinking in the fullness of my breasts in the lacy black bra and trailing down to my matching panties.
Unable to survive the pause, I shove him onto a nearby couch and straddle him, moaning as his hands slide up my waist to my breasts, stroking and caressing them. I grind into him, loving the feel of his body and the delicious friction as he moves his hips in rhythm with mine. His fingers tug one bra cup, freeing the contents within, and his tongue flicks out, teasing my nipple.
I gasp at the contact as my body aches for him more. The rocking of my hips becomes more frantic as I grind against him, wishing away the clothes between us. My hands weave into his soft hair, and I pull him against me. He takes my exposed breast into his hot mouth.
A pinging sound comes from beneath me. I pause. Is that my phone? Who would text me now?
“Don’t stop.” His voice is deep and seductive. The commanding tone is enough to melt me.
I do as he says and keep moving against him. As he teases my breast, his hand slides between us. He’s fumbling with his zipper when I hear the pinging again. The sounds come one after the other. I stop. Now it’s his phone. What the hell?
“Maybe you should check that.” I don’t want to, but it’s chiming like crazy, one after another.
“It’s nothing important,” he murmurs as his fingers continue to fumble at his waist.
He tries to kiss me again. I shake my head, as a sudden fear enters my thoughts. What if something happened to Dad?
“Maybe something happened?”
“I highly doubt that.” His voice sounds aggravated, and he groans as I shift my weight to stand in front of him, waiting for him to check his messages. I stiffen at the cold look he gives me. Then, as if I'd imagined it, I blink, and his eyes are warm honey brown again. “But I’ll check if it eases your mind.” He smiles like he means it.
I nod and lift my phone. It’s Jane. Nothing about Dad, just something about Grant. I don’t bother reading the rest. I press the button on the top of my phone to kill the screen. This is why I don’t tell people anything. They’re so nosy. It’s my rule. I can break it if I want to.
Grant swears under his breath. “Darcy, of course.”
That’s weird and a mile past being a voyeur in the club. “What does he want?”
“William and I aren’t on the best of terms. He’s just being a dick.” He types something back, but before he can shut off the phone, another message comes pinging in.
When he reads the screen, his handsome face sours with anger. “Fuck him!” He types furiously into his phone.
I scan the room for my dress. This evening is not going as planned. “What’s wrong?”
He smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now. Family problems.”
Is he throwing me out? Seriously? “Should I go?”
“No. I want you to stay.” He stands, kissing my cheek gently. His voice softens. “Why don’t you pour yourself a drink, okay? I’ll be right back.”
I’m starting to remember why I don’t sleep with guys that I don’t know. This feels strange. I’m assuming it’s normal brotherly crap, and Darcy is most likely being an ass about whatever it is. What were the odds that I’d go home with his adopted brother?
Grant tosses his phone on a console table and heads for the bathroom, picking up his discarded shirt on his way. After a few moments, I hear the sound of water running. What the hell just happened?
CHAPTER 21
I sigh in relief as I find my dress. If Colin were here, he’d tell me to forget my clothes and jump Grant in the shower. Hell, he’d probably do that himself if he weren’t so much in love with Mateo. I saw the way Colin gazed into his dark eyes. At least for tonight, getting married to keep up appearances was all but forgotten.
Slipping my dress on, I pad to the kitchen and rummage through the brushed steel refrigerator for a bottle of water. As I drink, I walk through the living room. The shades of gray and black lend a modern, masculine vibe to the room. A hugeass flat screen TV rules the room from a dark gray wall, its court a u-shaped arrangement of neutral-colored couches.
As I glide my hand over the material of a soft gray throw pillow, my eyes land on Grant’s phone. Curiosity and good manners war within me. My fingers slide over the console’s sleek surface and pause over the phone. I really shouldn’t look at it. It’s an invasion of privacy. I listen to Grant's movements. The water’s still running. Mary would do it. In fact, she wouldn’t even bother being sneaky. She’d just snatch it out of his hand.
I’ll take quick peek. That’s all. He probably has it locked anyway.
My heart pounds as I snatch the phone. With a flick of my finger, the screen lights up. I scowl as I read the preview of his last text.
I quickly open his text messaging app and scroll through it.
WILLIAM: I meant what I said
WILLIAM: Stay away from the girl
WILLIAM: There will be consequences
GRANT: fuck off
WILLIAM: of which your parents will disapprove
GRANT: Fine.
Then there are more curses and threats. What the hell? I’ve caught me a crazy man. Darcy is insane. I sit down on a stool, place the phone back on the console, and stare into space.
“Beth, I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
I scurry over to a couch and plaster a fake smile on my face. When he enters the room, I try to focus my attention on Grant rather than his crazy-ass brother.
“That’s okay. I totally get family problems. You should meet my mother. She’s a handful.” Poor Grant. It must’ve been hard growing up in the same family with Darcy. At least, Gwen turned out okay.
He grins. “I bet my brother can top your mother.”
“There’s an image I never want to see.”
Grant laughs as I make a face. “Seriously, though, William’s the adopted brother you were telling me about?”
“Yeah, he’s the guy.”
I study him as he brushes a hand through his blond hair. He’s debating whether or not to tell me more. The curious part of me wants to know why Darcy’s such a dick and how people as sweet as Gwen and Cameron put up with him. I soften my expression and try to get him to open up.
“You don’t sound too enthusiastic when you say that.”
Grant’s lips curl into a smile. “You’ve met him. What do you think?”
I’ve more than met him and think he’s crazy. I can’t say that, so I hedge. “I see your point. I just thought, since he’s your brother, he’d be a little nicer to you.”
“His idea of being nice is getting my parents to disown me rather than kill me.”
“He what?”
“It’s a long story,” he sighs and rubs his temples.
“I’ve got time.”
He heads to the bar and pours a drink. “Gwen is the only girl in our family, so everyone doted on her—you’ve met Gwen, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, she’s great.” I fold my legs underneath me, getting comfy on the couch.
“Isn’t she? William felt my parents loved Gwen and me more than him.” He pads back across the room to sit beside me. “That’s not true, you know. My par
ents were very sensitive to William and Gwen’s needs. For the first few years after they moved in, it was like I didn’t exist.”
I touch his arm lightly. “That’s awful.”
His eyes grow sad for a moment, and then he shakes it off. “It was hard for me. I was only five when Mr. and Mrs. Darcy died. Gwen and I were close growing up. William didn’t like that either. He’s always been protective of her.”
Psychotically possessive would be more of an accurate term. I nod, encouraging him to continue.
“It got worse when Gwen was approached by a modeling agency. My parents consented to her doing some modeling. I was even willing to help out. I went with her to some of the shoots when my mother couldn’t go. William got jealous and asked her to quit modeling altogether. At first, she refused. Then, mysteriously, she started losing gigs. Gwen booked shoots increasingly less frequently, as if someone was intentionally sabotaging her career. Then, when we saw the images from this one particular job, William lost it. He completely overreacted to the ad, saying it was too revealing. In truth, it was tastefully done. Gwen looked beautiful. But there was no convincing him. He demanded she quit. I don’t know what he told her, but she did.”
“That’s awful.”
He takes a sip, shaking his head. “He has a lot of power over her. She was just a baby when she lost her parents, and William is her only biological family left. I can understand wanting to stay on good terms with him, but she needs to tell him to fuck off. I told her I’d be there for her, that she didn’t have to quit, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t—or wouldn’t—stand up to him. That’s when she started drinking.”
The rumor Rivas mentioned was true. And it’s Darcy’s fault. “That’s horrible!”
“I know. It's awful. Gwen is drunk almost all the time. On most days, she can't even walk straight. William doesn't care. He wants her that way so he can control her.”
“That’s terrible. I can’t imagine how hard that was for her—and you.”
