BOUGHT: A Standalone Romance

by Glenna Sinclair

  Connor’s apartment is huge. I don’t know why I’m surprised by that; I should have expected it after seeing his house. He directs me to the second bedroom, where I slip out of my clothes and take a quick shower before getting dressed. I save the lavender dress for tomorrow, the wedding. I go for a baby blue dress instead. It stops under my knees and is soft and delicate. I let my hair down, and it falls in curled ringlets. It only takes me a moment to brush it out straight. Going through my bags, I pull out the shawl that goes with it, drape it over my shoulders, and fix my makeup.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you something,” Connor says as I step into the living room. He’s fixing his tie in the mirror. “My parents think your name is Katie. So can you go by that?”

  “Why do your parents know my real name?” I ask as I glare at him.

  “It was a mistake. I heard Mary say it so many times that it got stuck in my head. When my mom called me the other day, I told her I was bringing you, and ‘Katie’ slipped out.”

  I sigh. “I hate that name.”

  “It’s just a few days.”

  “And the nightmare’s over,” I mumble.

  “Don’t be dramatic.” He looks himself over in the mirror. “Let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.”

  I nod before I grab my clutch. The elevator drops down to the garage, and he hits the alarm on a car. Instead of the practical little BMW, we’re standing in front of a sleek, red Porsche.

  “Nice car.”

  Connor grins. “I don’t get to drive her that often, but she’s my favorite.”

  He holds open my door, offering his hand to help me in. I take it tentatively. When he’s sure I’m safely inside, he closes the door and jogs around to his side. Before long, we’re pulling onto the street.

  Chapter Eleven

  “How long is the drive?” I ask, nerves creeping into my voice.

  “About an hour, maybe a little over. We’ll get there before it’s dark, at least.”

  I nod. The road seems to go on forever, but unlike on the plane, I’m unable to relax enough to doze off. Instead, I stare out of the window. As I watch the city fade away, it’s replaced by trees and large homes.

  “I thought you were from Virginia?”

  “I am,” Connor nods, “but my parents moved us out here when I was ten. More culture, more excitement.”

  “Which place do you like better?”

  “California. Where else?”

  I know the feeling. I’ve been in several states trying to get away from my past, but California just feels like home. My mind briefly goes back to Nathan, standing in the door of the convenience store. I shudder. Of course I don’t want to leave my home, but I might have not have a choice.

  We finally pull off the road and onto a stone-paved driveway. As soon as we get to the front doors, tall and imposing, a man jogs over to us and takes the car. Connor holds out his arm to me, and I take it gently. For a moment, I close my eyes. When I open them again, my “Angel” smile is in place.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  I nod. “Of course. Let’s go inside.”

  Connor takes a deep breath as the door is pulled open for us. I pull my shawl a little tighter around my shoulders. As we walk through the house, a few people greet us and give Connor hugs.

  “Where is everyone?” he asks a tall woman with frizzy black hair.

  “They’re out back. Everything’s set up out there. The rehearsal isn’t for another twenty minutes or so, but you know your sister.”

  “Always late.” Connor shakes his head.

  We head outside. There are white chairs set up on an immaculate lawn, lanterns spilling warm light onto the ground, and people chatting lightly as they mill around. I start feeling overwhelmed. Everyone here is dripping with money. It’s easy to tell by the jewelry they’re wearing and the way they hold themselves. I begin to feel very out of my league.

  Then Connor does something that brings me back. He holds my hand. I glance up at him, and he gives me a wink. He’s nervous too, of that I’m sure, but he looks cool, calm. I wonder that I’ve never noticed it before, how unsure he can look behind the calmness. I’ve always mistaken it for coldness.

  “Darling!”

  We both turn to the voice, and I see a woman walking over to us. I know from the pictures that she’s Connor’s mother. Her tall, elegant body is clothed in a delicate cream dress, with jewels dangling from her wrist, neck, and ears. She looks like a movie star. Her eyes are the same shade of startling green, her jet black hair sporting not a strand of gray as it flows around her shoulders. As she approaches us, the beauty pageant smile falters slightly.

  “Connor,” she says as she wraps her arms around him, “you’re late. I thought you would be getting in earlier so we could do lunch.”

  “I had to change flights. Angela had something come up.”

  “Angela,” she says as she looks me up and down before extending a hand. “Lovely to meet you.”

  Can you feel instant dislike? I swear the temperature has suddenly dropped by about twenty degrees. I wonder if my breath is coming out as clouds. Connor gives me a nudge, and I’m popped out of my daydream. I take her hand, widen my smile, and give a little chuckle.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve just heard so much about you. You look amazing. It’s nice to meet you too.”

  Who is this person? I sound confidant, sweet. Then I remember all of the practice I’ve had crafting my personality to meet my clients. This should be a piece of cake. I can do it. I hope.

  “I’m sorry, but Connor hasn’t really told me much about you. I’m kind of surprised he’s told you anything at all about me,” she says with a raised brow.

  Shit. Why do I feel like this woman can see right through me? Connor gives my hand a tight squeeze giving me a bit of my quickly crumbling confidence back.

  “Don’t pick on her, Mom,” he says with a laugh. “Where’s Vanessa?”

  “Oh, throwing a fit about something. Her fiancé is around here somewhere, hiding from her. I swear, those two are so dysfunctional.”

  Connor shakes his head. “Mom, you can’t say that. What if they hear you?”

  “Oh, I already told Vanessa.” She says it matter-of-factly as she scoops up a passing glass of wine from a waiter’s tray, “By the way, I just want to give you a heads up. Your ex-wife is here.”

  Ex-wife? I’m lost. I think back to the binder filled with the faces of Connor’s family and friends, but there was never one for an ex-wife. Now Connor’s clutching my hand a little too tightly. I pull my hand from his as I glance up at him. He jaw is set, the glare in his eyes enough to kill.

  “Why would you do that?”

  Connor’s mom, Gloria, rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic. Our families are still friends, after all. Vanessa still sees her at least a couple of times a week.”

  “It would have been nice if you’d told me all of this before I came.”

  “You wouldn’t have come. Darling, you’ll be fine. Go say hi to your father,” she says with a soft smile. Glancing at me, her grin widens. I can only describe it as wicked. “And your fiancée.”

  As she walks away, I’m struck stupid. What the hell does she mean, fiancée? Slowly, I turn to glare at Connor. The look on his face says it all. This isn’t news to him. What the hell has he gotten me involved in? And me, I’ve been sleeping with an engaged man. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Angela,” he says slowly, “it’s not what you think.”

  “I’m sorry, but did you not just hear your mother say ‘fiancée?’ I think it’s exactly what I think.”

  “Look,” he says, putting his hands on each of my shoulders. “This is exactly what my mom wants, for us to fight.”

  From behind gritted teeth, I manage to get out, “She’s about to have that wish granted.”

  Connor sighs. Before he can say anything more, he glances up and smiles. My eyes follow his to a man. I can see where Connor gets his height from: his entire family look like g
iants. The man in front of me is Connor’s father, Mark. There’s gray on his temples, and he’s made no attempt to hide it. His thick blond hair is short, neat. As he reaches us, he takes Connor’s hand and shakes it before he pulls him into a hug.

  “Where the hell have you been? You too important to call your own father now?”

  Connor chuckles. “I’m sorry. I should do it more often.”

  “Damn right you should. We’re going to have to get caught up before you have to fly back home.” Mark’s eyes catch mine. I’m expecting the same treatment as before when his smile widens. “You must be Angela. My son is an awful man for keeping you a secret for so long. It’s nice to meet you,” he says as he shakes my hand.

  “Nice to meet you too,” I say with a smile. I can’t help it; he’s so sweet that it’s infectious.

  “Have you seen your mother yet?”

  “Yep,” Connor says flatly.

  “Damn, she gave me the slip when I was cornered by that bore Jackson. She tell you about Charlotte and Lilly?”

  “Yep,” Connor says again.

  Mark turns to me. “I assure you, there’s nothing to worry about. Even if my wife tried to act like there was. Charlotte and Connor are long divorced, and Lilly and my wife think they can conspire to get Connor married off again, to her. I’ve only just met you and like you better than Lilly, and I’ve known her since she was a little gold digger.”

  Connor chokes on a laugh. “What is wrong with you and Mom today? You guys have just given up on being nice people?”

  “Since when has your mother ever been nice?” he says with a raised brow. “Oh, there’s your sister. It looks like she’s chewing someone out, again. I better go smooth things over. I’ll see you two later. And Angela?” He grins. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

  I feel my cheeks turn red. Both Connor and his father seem to think this is hilarious before he walks off. When we’re alone again, Connor shakes his head.

  “Yeah, they’re strange. And there’s nothing I haven’t told you,” he says with a smile.

  “Ex-wife.”

  “Okay, that I didn’t tell you.”

  I settle in for the wedding rehearsal, and Connor goes off to join the rest of the wedding party. Vanessa looks stunning in a short white dress covered with lace and white heels. Her hair is blond, like her father’s, and pinned up in a bun. Beside her is her fiancé. He looks nervous and timid, but handsome.

  As they begin, a woman sits next to me. She sweeps long, chestnut hair over one shoulder before she looks at me. I don’t know who she is; there hadn’t been a picture of her in the book.

  “You came with Connor, didn’t you?” she asks, her voice husky and almost demanding.

  I nod. “Yes, he’s my boyfriend.”

  The woman scoffs. Again, she flicks her hair. “It’s not serious. He’s never serious. Well, not after me, anyway.”

  Right away, I get what’s going on. This must be Charlotte. She gazes at me intently with narrowed blue eyes, as if she’s expecting me to reply. What do I say? I don’t care about some silly jealousy.

  I shrug. “It feels pretty serious.”

  “Don’t worry, he’ll get tired of you. He’s never been much good on his own, not since we divorced. He probably pushes you around, doesn’t he? He’s always been strong-willed. I’m the only woman to ever be able to get him in line.”

  Ouch, that hurts. I glance up at Connor. He’s smiling at his sister, but I can see the edge of uncomfortableness there too. No wonder he likes being in control, though. I can just imagine how demanding she must have been when they were married. No wonder he didn’t ever bring her up.

  “I’m sorry, but I have no idea who you are,” I say to the woman with a smile. “Connor’s never mentioned you.”

  Anger flashes across her face. I can tell that she wants to say something, but she stops herself short. I grin. Turning back to watch the rehearsal, I can’t help the small amount of satisfaction that pissing her off has given me. It serves her right.

  By the time the rehearsal’s done, Charlotte has disappeared into the crowd. For that I’m thankful. Connor joins back up with me, and I loop my arm around his. Everyone makes their way inside, where amazing smells are filling the rooms around us. We settle in at a long table next to Connor’s father. My stomach growls. I forgot I haven’t eaten since the night before.

  The plates put in front of us are course after course of works of art. I resist the urge to sneak out my phone and snap pictures. I’m supposed to be one of these people. As dinner comes to dessert, Gloria clears her throat.

  “So, Angela, what is it that you do again?”

  It takes a moment for me to remember, but all of the practicing has paid off. “I’m a relationship counselor.”

  “Really?” I can see the fake interest. “Have you ever been married?”

  “Once,” I say. “A long time ago.”

  “Sounds like it didn’t end very well. I’m just curious how you can give other people relationship advice when your own marriage wasn’t successful.”

  Connor clears his throat. “Mom…”

  “That’s okay, honey.” I grin at him. “I like to believe that we can learn from our mistakes. My marriage might not have lasted, but I learned a lot from it.”

  That seems to effectively shut Gloria up. I can just imagine the smile on Connor’s face is one he wore often as a mischievous child. Under the table, his hand grips my thigh, and I can tell that he’s trying not to laugh.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dinner isn’t over soon enough. As everyone goes their separate ways, I yawn. I’m ready to go to sleep. It’s exhausting pretending to be someone you’re not for the whole day.

  “Would you two like a drink?” Mark asks as we follow him out of the dining room.

  Connor shakes his head, and the tension leaves my body. “I’m sorry, but we’re really tired. Do you think we could do it tomorrow evening, after the wedding?”

  Mark nods before he smiles at us. “Sure, that sounds fine. Goodnight, you two.”

  I follow Connor out to the car. After we’re safely inside, he loosens his tie and sighs. I can see the exhaustion on his face.

  “Drink?”

  “Yes,” he says. “I could use a drink.”

  Our hotel isn’t far, and for that I’m grateful. As soon as we’re checked into our room, I kick off my shoes and plop down on the bed. Connor pulls off his jacket, loosens his shirt sleeves before rolling them up, and pours each of us a glass of whiskey. He hands one to me.

  “That was a brutal night.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, “your family is kind of overwhelming. No offense.”

  “None taken, they are overwhelming. Thankfully, my sister is too busy being a control freak, or you would have gotten to know her too. She’s like my mother, times ten.”

  I shiver. “Is it over yet?”

  Connor laughs. “Almost. I love them, but I couldn’t stay in that house tonight. My mom offered, but there’s just no way. She’d be knocking on the door every five seconds, and I need to relax, just for a moment.”

  I nod. “Well, the wedding’s tomorrow, and your father’s really sweet.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know how he and my mother get along.”

  Connor sits next to me on the large, plush bed. Kicking off his shoes, he pushes a hand through his hair. As I look at him I realize that I might not agree with it, but I can kind of understand his problems with control now.

  “What was it like?” I ask, trying to take his mind off of the day. “What was it like growing up with your family?”

  “Now there’s a story of dysfunction if I’ve ever told one.”

  “Tell me,” I say, poking him gently in the shoulder.

  He laughs. “Okay, but I’m telling you, we’re all weird.”

  I listen to Connor as I sip on my drink. Each story he tells is more outlandish than the next, and I’m not totally sure he isn’t making it all up. The more he talks, though, the more
animated he becomes, the more his face lights up. I can tell he’s pretty drunk; I’m not far behind.

  “You sound like you had a lot of fun growing up,” I say as I flip over on my stomach.

  “Yeah,” he grins. “My sister and I were the worst. She may seem all uptight now, but we’ve always been pretty close. Even if she can’t boss me around anymore.”

  “It’s nice seeing you like this,” I blurt out.

  Connor raises a brow. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, normal. It’s nice to see you normal. You can be kind of intimidating sometimes, but right now, you seem like a normal person. Same problems and past as the rest of us, just more well-funded.”

  He chuckles before he finishes his glass. “Things weren’t always easy. Money doesn’t change much, if I’m honest.” He looks contemplative before he smiles again. “You did great tonight, though.”

  “I was a nervous wreck.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  Connor’s hand squeezes my shoulder. Before I know it, he’s trailing his fingers down my body. The touch of his warm skin against mine sends tingles rushing down my spine. Biting my lip, I gaze at him, and I can see that familiar hunger in his eyes.

  He leans down, his lips brushing mine before his tongue slips inside. Then, he’s on top of me, possessing me. There’s a fierceness between us that feels as though all of the frustration we’ve bottled up has finally boiled over. Now we’re relentless, angry, hot.

  Connor doesn’t bother to be nice to my clothes. He rips the dress from my body. I can hear the fabric tear, feel it pull against my skin. He pulls the remains of it off of me before carelessly tossing them to the floor.

  “That was really expensive,” I mumble.

  “I’ll buy you another one,” he says as his mouth trails to my throat.

  As he leaves a trail of kisses and bites down my body, his hands work quickly to make my lacy white bra and panties disappear. Sliding down farther, he hooks his arms beneath my knees, and I’m suddenly engulfed in pleasure.

  My fingers grip the blanket as his tongue travels over my pussy. A tantalizing tingle courses the length of my spine, makes my back arch. He starts slow, teasing me, tracing my pussy, but not touching my clit. The anticipation is killing me; I can feel the wetness between my thighs. I try to reach down a hand, brush my clit with my fingertips, but my hand is swatted away, his only response a deep growl that delights me to my core.