Counsellor (Acquisition Series Book 1)

by Celia Aaron

  I put a matching hand on my hip. “I can’t go to a ball commando, now can I?”

  “You can and you will.”

  “What?”

  “Strip.” Enid’s mouth was set in a firm line.

  “Do it, do it, do it!” Alex tried to yank the towel off me. “I have to see it in motion. It may kill me from fashion overload, but I’ll die happy.”

  I glanced over at Dmitri. He sighed, as if hoping I’d forgotten he was there. “Fine, fine. I won’t watch. Even though you let girl-man see.” He frowned at Alex and turned his back.

  I finally let Alex tug the towel free and stepped toward the feathery cloud.

  Chapter Ten

  Sinclair

  Where is she? I waited out in front of the house in a black sports car. I was too on edge to even bother with my usual driver. I needed control any way I could get it.

  Going to the Acquisition Ball was something I had never done before. All the preparation in the world likely wouldn’t ready me for what was about to happen. I would get through it. Making sure Stella performed—that she stood out—was my main goal. I gripped the steering wheel, trying to decide if I needed to go inside and drag her out, when the front door opened.

  Renee stepped out first, and then I saw her. The late afternoon sun blinked off the jewels at her throat, barely visible above the dark cloak tied at her neck. Her dress was the signature Vinemont green, and Enid had outdone herself on the skirt. The black peacock feathers would turn more than a few heads. I only hoped one of them belonged to the Sovereign.

  If that weren’t enough, Stella’s face was radiant. Even as she crossed the threshold, uncertainty painting her features, she made something inside me click into a higher gear. Her bright green gaze tried to ensnare me, tried to make me feel something. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.

  Still, I wanted to see her—all of her. Damn that cloak. I imagined ripping it all off her except the jewels, and my cock thickened in my tuxedo pants. Fuck. Now was neither the time nor the place.

  It was going to take everything I had to get through this night. It was going to take even more out of Stella. Once it was all over, she wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me. She probably already felt that way after what had happened in the yard yesterday. Tonight would seal the deal. Not that she’d have any choice. She would do as I told her. She cared about her father too damned much not to.

  She wore a pair of breakneck high heels. I imagined how long her legs would look, bare and smooth, wearing nothing but her stilettos. I shifted in my seat. The large Russian walked out the door behind her and helped her down the front steps. He smiled easily as she spoke to him. I wanted to destroy him for even thinking of talking to what was mine, to take him down and show her I could do it. I could hurt, kill. I could do even worse.

  She took the last few steps to my car, and the Russian bastard had the nerve to open the door for her. She maneuvered into the tight space, tucking her dress in and almost falling into the seat.

  “Easy krasivaya,” he said.

  A muscle ticked in my jaw as he called her beautiful. She was my pet. If anyone were to give her a special name in Russian or any other fucking language, it would be me.

  “I see you when you return.” He closed the door and moved away from the car.

  No, you won’t. I put the car in reverse and backed away from the house. Lucius stood in one of the downstairs windows and watched us leave. Actually, he didn’t watch us, his gaze was fixed on Stella.

  “He creeps me out.” Her eyes were trained on the same window.

  “Don’t talk about my brother like that.” He was blood. She was an Acquisition. Even if I wanted to beat the desirous look out of his eyes until all I saw was gore, some bonds were unbreakable.

  “Fine.” She sank bank in the seat as far as she could and stared out the window. I glanced at her, taking in her stunning profile. Creamy, smooth skin, delicate nose, sumptuous pout… Her lips were painted a blood red, the perfect complement to the emeralds at her throat.

  I wore classic black tie. I didn’t need to stand out. I was nothing more than background noise. Stella was the attraction, the star.

  We fell into an uncomfortable silence as I cycled the gears, sped through the estate, and maneuvered out onto the road. The ball was held at the Oakman estate, and had been for as long as anyone cared to remember. This year’s affair promised to be even more extravagant than previous years, given that Cal Oakman was the current Sovereign.

  The bastard was revered throughout our community. His winning Acquisition ten years ago had cemented him at the top of Louisiana society. I hadn’t attended that ball, despite the engraved platinum invitation. Now I wished I had. At least I would know more of what to expect. Hopefully my mother’s recollections of her Acquisition Ball twenty years would still hold true. They should. Tradition and ritual were the bedrock principles beneath the entire system.

  “What’s going to happen?”

  I ignored her question. If I described what I expected to go on at the ball, she might put up enough fight to be a problem. I needed her just as she was, a perfectly tantalizing morsel, wide-eyed and beautiful. I needed her eventual downfall to be spectacular. I needed to win.

  Twilight fell as we sped along country roads, past vast estates hidden behind walls of trees and dark bayous.

  “I won’t run.” Her voice was quiet, but resolute.

  “What?” I downshifted as we came closer to the Oakman gate.

  “If you tell me what’s going to happen, I won’t run. I know there’s nowhere to go and you’ll hurt my father if I do. So, just tell me.”

  I pulled the car over so quickly she yelped. The freshly fallen leaves crunched under the tires as we skidded to a halt.

  “You want to know what the most powerful people in the South, maybe the entire fucking country, are going to do to you tonight?”

  She winced and then turned her wide, angry eyes to me. “Yes.”

  “Remember how I said I would hurt you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tonight, I won’t be the only one inflicting the pain. That’s all you need to know.”

  I wanted to be the only one to hurt her, the only one to make her cry or bleed or scream. Instead, Cal fucking Oakman would be sharing the duties, and for an audience. She was mine—not because I cared about her, but because I owned her.

  I hit the steering wheel and turned to her, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “You just have to get through it. No matter what happens.”

  Her breaths came faster and she leaned toward me, her cloak falling to the side and revealing the swells of her breasts. “But you’ll be there? With me?”

  She was drawing me toward her somehow until my lips were only a whisper away from hers. She smelled like rosewater and honey, a scent I’d chosen for her for the evening. It was meant to be intoxicating, to draw people in, but it wasn’t supposed to work against me like this. Her eyes closed, her lips in full bloom and ready for a kiss.

  Once again, I was letting my family down. She was property. I needed to stop acting like she was anything more than that. But she didn’t make it easy. The day before when she’d lain on her bed and stroked herself, making quiet cries and grinding her hips against her hand, it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to burst into her room and fuck her until she screamed my name. The memory went straight to my dick, making a bad situation even worse.

  Her question came back to me. Would I be there with her? Yes. Would she be happy about it? No. Definitely not. Her lips begged for solace I could not and would not give. I pulled away and made a show of wiping my fingers on my handkerchief.

  “You must be desperate if you think I offer you any more safety than the strangers you’re about to meet. I don’t.”

  She recoiled, stung by my words, by my actions. Good. She needed to hate me. It would make it all easier.

  I put the car back into gear and pulled from the shoulder. I was desperate to get out of
this enclosed space, away from her eyes, her scent, her lips, her breath.

  As I wished for an escape, the wide gates of the Oakman estate loomed ahead of us. Several cars passed through after their occupants showed the guards the distinctive engraved invitation—this year’s was solid gold. I hefted the plate from my inner coat pocket and flashed it before I was waved through to the tree-lined lane. The Oakman home rose from the landscape, a French chateau built in the style of Versailles. Stella took a deep, steadying breath beside me. Nervousness? Excitement? Dread? Any one of those, or all at once, maybe.

  I mimicked her quietly, trying to calm my nerves right along with hers. So much was riding on this. On her. She would either save the Vinemonts or break us. Tonight was her first step toward either destiny.

  Chapter Eleven

  Stella

  The house in the oak grove was ominous despite the fact that the outside was lit up as bright as day. Ballgoers climbed the wide stone stairs to the open and bright front entrance. I shivered.

  I’d almost had him only moments before, but the iota of control I wielded over Vinemont wasn’t enough. My lips, my words, none of it was enough to make him change his course. I entertained the ridiculous fantasy that if I could get him to care about me, then he wouldn’t hurt me. I knew he wouldn’t let me go, not until the year was up. But maybe I could convince him to leave me alone, to let me paint, to let me do anything besides standing naked for his amusement or enduring any of his cruel intentions.

  But then he’d pulled away, becoming his usual cold self. At the last moment, I’d lost him.

  Even though I hadn’t been able to shake him, whatever lay within the chateau put Vinemont on edge. I didn’t think anything could make him nervous. He tried to hide it beneath his usual snobby veneer, but I saw it clearly. He could hide plenty from me, but not that. Even he didn’t look forward to the dark deeds that awaited in this place.

  He pulled up to a valet. For the first time, I noticed all of the people walking past the car were wearing masks. I turned back to Vinemont to find he’d already donned a simple black mask covered with the vine motif, his blue eyes showing through the material like patches of dark sky. His jaw was tight, the clean shaven lines perfection beneath his disguise. He pulled a far more extravagant mask from behind my seat, made with the same black peacock feathers on my dress.

  “Put it on.”

  I slipped the ribbon around my head and tied them in the back. Alex would have had a fit if he had seen me so much as touch my hair. I felt a pang in my breast at the thought of never seeing my short-lived friends again. After Mom had died, I didn’t do much besides keep my father company, paint, and read. I had no friends to speak of, no one to notice I was gone.

  Now that I didn’t belong to myself anymore, I realized what a sheltered, useless existence I’d truly had. I was utterly unprepared for the world, for Vinemont, for the shadows that threatened to smother the very life from my body. I could feel it, the darkness, swirling near me, taking the air from my lungs like a greedy parasite.

  The valet had been holding his hand out for an awkward moment before I took it and allowed him to help me from the car. He wore a silver mask with what looked like an oak branch pattern in stark black lines.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” the valet said. “Welcome to the Oakman chateau.”

  “Not a scratch.” Vinemont threw the keys. The valet caught them easily.

  Vinemont came around and offered his arm to me. I would have refused had it not been for the too-high heels strapped to my feet. As it was, I would need help climbing the wide stairs unless I wanted to break my neck.

  I pushed my cloak out of the way and took his arm. Warmth radiated from him, seeping through his tuxedo and into my bare arm. With the shoes, I was tall enough to get a good look at his face, despite the mask hiding him from me. His jaw was tight, stress written in the tension.

  We began our climb as others crowded around us. I tried to listen to the snippets of conversation.

  “—picked this year?”

  “I heard the same thing! Cal is apparently very interested in the new Acquisitions to the point he—”

  “I hope the Witheringtons win. Have you seen their eldest? He’s still a bachel—”

  The blood drained from my face. The tips of my ears went cold. I stopped even as Vinemont tried to tug me along with him. “This is some sort of sick competition?”

  A couple of masked people near us turned to look.

  “Her first ball,” Vinemont said cheerily.

  “Oh, my dear, you’re in for a real treat!” A female ballgoer in a sparkling mask with a grotesquely long nose took my other arm.

  She and Vinemont walked me up the stairs.

  “This year is going to be especially interesting,” the beast at my other elbow trilled. “The three families are really the crème de la crème. Top notch. And Cal is going to be the greatest master of ceremonies we’ve ever seen if his Acquisition was any indication. He really set the bar high that year. Have you heard what he has planned for tonight?”

  “Don’t spoil it for her,” Vinemont said with a smile in his voice. “I want her to get the full experience.”

  I cursed him silently for cutting off my only flow of information.

  We reached the top step and fell in line behind some other couples.

  “In that case, I’ll say no more. See you inside. I’ll tell you one thing, though, this year’s Acquisitions are going to be much the worse for wear when it’s over.” With that, she giggled and rejoined her party.

  I faltered, my heel catching as the corners of my vision darkened. Blood roared in my ears. Vinemont held me up and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side.

  “Keep it together, Stella.” His voice was low.

  “Just tell me what’s going to happen.” Desperation colored my words, only hinting at the panic escalating in my breast.

  He continued moving me inexorably forward. Panic rose up from within me, threatening to overtake the thin veneer of control I had. I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but go inside this house with the monster at my elbow.

  “Please, Sinclair, please.”

  He stiffened as I used his first name. He pulled me to the side and let others pass ahead of us.

  “Goddammit, Stella.” His voice was a low growl as his eyes flashed behind the black mask. “Stop asking questions. In fact, don’t speak again until you’re spoken to. Understand?”

  “I’ll stop and I won’t speak if you just answer my question. Just tell me.”

  He brought me closer to him, pretending we were embracing each other, solely for the benefit of the other ballgoers around us, no doubt.

  His mouth was at my ear. “I haven’t told you for a reason, Stella.”

  He put a hand to my throat before smoothing it around to the back of my neck in a move of utter possession.

  “They will mark you.” He ran his fingers across the skin at the nape of my neck, making a vivid heat tear through my body from the points of contact. “Here.”

  His other hand snaked under my cloak and around to the open back of my dress. His fingers played at my exposed skin. “And here.”

  I shook so hard that he spread his large palm against my bare back and pressed me to him. “I warned you, Stella. I didn’t want you to know ahead of time. Fear is your enemy. Fear will make it hurt more than it has to. Now, look at you.” He slid his hand up my spine. “Trembling against me, the one who stole you away from your life, the one who’s going to take everything from you. You are cozying up to the spider you detest.”

  His lips brushed my earlobe and the strange heat pulsed through me again, scorching a path straight to my core. His evil words weren’t igniting fear in me. They were making me need him, need his wicked tongue to do things other than taunt me with pain.

  I knew I should be afraid. I was. But not of him.

  He moved his hand around to the front of my dress and te
ased my hardened nipple with his thumb. He groaned low in his throat. The cloak hid his movements, but I felt every single touch. When he cupped my breast and squeezed, I hitched in my breath.

  “You’d let me fuck you right now, wouldn’t you? In front of all these people. Right here.” He released my nape, grabbed my hand, and guided it to the hard length in his pants. “You’d take this.”

  My heart fluttered even faster. I slid my hand along him and his hips jerked toward me. I couldn’t think, couldn’t waste my thoughts on fear when he created an inferno that scorched me in my most secret places.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “I would.”

  “And I’d take you, too. In fact, I will, but not here. Business first. Get through this, and I’ll grant you a reward.” With that, he let me go and backed away. His step was steady but his eyes were wild.

  My skin was needy, demanding his touch and more. What was wrong with me? I hated Vinemont. Maybe it was because of what I’d done to myself. Maybe I felt like I deserved some sort of punishment for being so weak throughout my life? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I wanted him to rekindle the same fire in me, to make me burn for him, no matter the cost.

  He held out his arm for me again. I took it and allowed him to escort me into the glowing hell of the Oakman chateau.

  ***

  Masked greeters welcomed us and offered to take my cloak. Vinemont declined and swept me further inside the mansion. It was alight with conversation and alcohol. Servers in harlequin masks wove through the revelers, offering drinks and taking already empty glasses.

  One whisked towards us, his tray laden with champagne.

  “No, thank you,” I said.

  Vinemont grabbed two glasses and handed me one. “Drink. It’ll help.”

  I took a sip and then another. We walked further inside. Everything was gilded, golden, and sparkling. Dozens of chandeliers lined the high ceilings, and the walls were covered with intricate murals of romanticized scenes from the old South. It reflected a whitewashed history, the lighter paint hiding a bloody and violent past.