by Nora Flite
My stare was fixated on the horse. Its giant eyes, so wet and honest, studied me. Every fiber in me wanted to pet its velvet nose. I held back. “My name’s Sammy. I’m . . . well, how do I explain. I was here—”
“Oh! The wedding dress maker!” Laughing, she rubbed the horse’s flank. “Frannie would not shut up about you and that gown.”
“Right. I finished up with her, and now I’m kind of turned around.”
“The estate can be intimidating to first-timers.” Dusting her palms off, she came my way, then she kept going. “Come on, I’ll show you out. Name’s Matilda, by the by.”
I lingered, watching the horse as long as I could. Finally, I chased after Matilda. She was shorter than me, though not by much. Her hair made up a lot of her height. Even among the rosebushes she took us near, she still smelled like hay. I loved it.
We wove through a short maze of hedges. “Here you go,” she said, gesturing as we broke out onto the hard tiles of the driveway.
I was about to thank her. I didn’t get that far, the two of us stopping in our tracks as we saw what was going on. A red car was parked near mine, an older woman shouting furiously at a man in a gray shirt and purple tie. Throwing her arms up, she said, “You’re done! Get out of here!”
“Mama, you tell him!” I hadn’t noticed Francesca. She bounced nearby, her arms wrapped around a fluffy white thing—some kind of dog? “Get the fuck outta here, you scam artist!”
The man scowled, but there was fear in his narrowed eyes. “I’m not a scam artist, Miss Badd. I told you weeks ago, you can’t keep changing the plans. I said I’d arrange things for noon, you were the one who changed the rehearsal lunch to a rehearsal dinner last night.”
Francesca opened her mouth, but the larger woman—who had to be her mom—stomped forward. The man ducked, nearly feeling the wrath of her ring-encrusted fist.
Holy shit! Was this about to get ugly? Mama Badd screamed, “Go! Get your scammy ass off my property! We’ll do the party without you!”
He didn’t need more convincing. Ducking into his car, he started to reverse. Francesca ran forward, kicking her sparkling gold heel into the side of his front bumper. Squealing tires broke through the clean air—he drove away in a flurry of dust.
Breathing heavily, Francesca spun on her mom. “What do we do now, Ma? Who’s going to organize the party tonight?”
“Oh, honey, we’ll figure it out. I can call another planner. Anyone would feel honored to help throw a party for us!”
Next to me, Matilda made a small snort. There was no way Francesca heard her, but still, her dark eyes flew my way. I stood taller, unsure if I should smile or run into the rosebushes.
“Sammy!” she shouted, drawing her mom’s attention to me. She waved, nearly dropping the fluffy dog thing. “You’re still here! Thank fucking gawd!”
My face scrunched. “I was actually about to go.” Could I make it to my car if I moved quickly enough?
Hugging her dog, she moaned. “You can’t! I need you to save the day, please! I don’t have time to find another planner.”
Chewing my lip, I glanced at Matilda. She was hovering, picking at her nails and looking at her feet. She acted like she wanted to turn invisible.
I said, “Party planning isn’t my expertise.” Mama Badd swished my way. Literally swished, because her long dress was dangling with threads of crystal that brushed her calves loudly. “Hon, you’re the one who made Fran’s dress, right? You’ve seen your share of wedding parties. We just need someone to help us set up, keep it all together.”
“Ah . . . well . . .”
My hesitation was obvious. She sniffed, eyeing my dented car and smiling knowingly. “We’ll pay you, of course.”
Jeez, this family and their money. They threw it around like it was candy on Halloween.
Matilda whispered, “You should do it. It’s better to help them than to run.”
Run? It wasn’t running.
What else do you call escaping because you’re scared of bumping into Kain again? That sounds like running to me. I cursed my blunt inner thoughts.
With everyone watching me expectantly—even the dog—I smiled weakly. “All right. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
- CHAPTER THREE -
SAMMY
Have you ever planned a party in just three hours?
Me either.
Until now.
Luckily, I wasn’t alone. I had a range of helpers, from cooks to servants to bussers. I’d never had to lead so many people. In my drained state, the hours melted into a weird swirl of white noise and murky colors.
I was surprised they needed me, honestly. I was sure that anyone else could have directed the waiters to bring out drinks and appetizers, and certainly any old person could have told them to choose cloths for the garden tables that complemented the bride-to-be’s bright orange dress.
White and green, thank you.
Exhausted, I wiped my forehead and leaned against the kitchen wall. I did have a better idea of the estate’s layout now, that was a plus. You won’t be spending time here, why does it matter if you know where things are?
Again, my sharp inner voice was right.
Sipping a big glass of water, I rubbed my hands on my dress. Francesca had insisted I change into something more presentable. Finding an outfit in her closet that wasn’t covered in faux fur, animal spots, or giant rhinestones was a challenge.
I’d settled on a green satin dress, the bottom pleats glinting with gold. It was still flashy, but it would work.
“Ma’am?” a young waiter asked. He was wearing the same starched, black suit as all the others, though the way he shifted around, he seemed uncomfortable in it. “Miss Badd says you can go if you like. They’re done eating and are enjoying after-dinner drinks now.”
I flashed an appreciative smile. “Thanks—ah, what’s your name?”
“Jameson.”
“Thanks, Jameson. I’ll head out in a minute.”
He nodded, his slicked-back hair moving as much as a helmet would. I had the distinct sensation that he was lingering, watching me with interest. Before I could ask him if something was wrong, he hurried off.
Pushing my hair behind my ears, I closed my eyes and pointed my nose to the ceiling.
What a day.
“Did you move in or something?”
Blinking, I stared at Kain. He’d snuck up on me, his arms folded over his gray jacket. He looked oddly clean and crisp in such fancy clothes. In one hand, he held two champagne flutes.
We were alone in the kitchen. That fact sat heavy in my belly.
Gripping the counter behind me, I said, “Your sister needed the help.”
“Careful.” He stepped closer, his eyes never straying from my face. “Once you start with her, she’ll never stop asking you to do things.”
Helplessly, I measured the distance between us. I was trapped in my corner; he’d corralled me so easily. “I like helping people.”
“I have something you could help with. Something pretty big.”
Flushing, I bounced my attention down to his zipper. I didn’t mean to, it was as if his gritty voice had taken hold of my neck and guided me down.
And his smile said he’d seen me do it.
I cleared my throat. “You’re a big boy, you can help yourself.”
“Oh, I do. And I will.” His foot came down, the shiny shoe transfixing me the closer he got. “I’ll jerk this cock off to thoughts of you, sweetheart. Especially to the memory of how you felt in my arms earlier.”
My muscles were useless. All I could do was squeeze the counter harder. “Fine. Go do that.”
“Tch.” His chuckle caressed between my legs. “You can pretend all you want, but I know I got to you, too. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day.”
“I was busy with your sister,” I argued.
“And after that?”
“I was planning to go home.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Let’s get some honesty going.” His arm came forward. I flinched, expecting him to touch me—he put one of the glasses next to me on the counter. “You want me. I can tell how badly you want me. And you also want nothing to do with me.”
“That last part is definitely true.”
Grinning, he bent against the counter. “You’re not looking for some long-term baby-making plans with me, right?” Fuck, I was so red. “You want to never see me again? Fine.” His low tone flooded my ears, making me dizzy. “Get me out of your system. Fuck me, sweet thing. Fuck me and forget me.”
Could he hear my heart? “That . . . that’s not . . .”
Cupping my chin, he leaned his weight into me. I bent, I crumbled, and I let my facade crack. Kain was too tempting. I wanted to know how his smirk would feel on me, how his quick tongue would taste.
He was right. I wanted him.
I didn’t know I’d closed my eyes until he breathed out. Blinking, I watched him study my eyes. Thumbing my chin, then my bottom lip, he said, “You’re too curious to walk away.”
Kain stared me down. I kept wondering when he was going to kiss me.
Stepping back, he nudged the champagne into my hand. On impulse, I took it. “Drink. Then come find me in the garden.”
“What?” It came out louder than I wanted it to.
“You’re not from here.” Such a flat accusation. It was almost an insult. Kain watched me over his shoulder, his body angled so I could admire the slimness of his waist, how the black pants hugged his ass. “You were lying earlier, I don’t know why. But it’s clear you don’t know who I am . . . or who my family are.” He hesitated. “Drink that, take some time, and if you still want to mess around, come find me in the garden.”
There was nothing else to be said, apparently, because he walked out of sight.
Sliding down to the floor, I hugged the glass. Holy shit, that walking stack of sex and passion . . . he’d left me a total mess.
And we hadn’t even kissed.
Staring into the golden drink, I watched the bubbles pop. Some floated to the top, others clung to the glass as if trying to hold off their fate.
Which was I? A fighter . . . or a bubble that wanted to be popped?
Putting the glass to my lips, I sipped.
Champagne had never tasted so much like sin.
I hadn’t slept . . . I wasn’t thinking straight. Alcohol was part of the blame, too—after the one glass, I’d refilled mine twice. I kept looking for every excuse in my arsenal so that I could justify what my body was eager to do.
The sky was a deep shade of ocean tide. Under it, my world felt suddenly smaller.
“Oh, Sammy!”
I’d hoped to sneak past the family as they sat under the tiny, star-shaped lights, but Francesca was too vigilant. She waved at me, getting the attention of everyone else so that it was impossible to just walk away.
My lungs flared. Kain can wait. Hell, if I took enough time to clear my head, maybe I could get out of here without giving in to my stupid urges. Smiling, I approached the long tables that were set nearly end-to-end.
Francesca stood when I got close, pulling me against her with a big grin. “Everyone!” The people were talking among themselves; she shouted louder. “Hey! Shut the hell up!” That worked, every set of eyes fixing on my furiously hot face. “This is Sammy, and she’s the best damn person I’ve met in a long time. If it wasn’t for her, the wedding tomorrow couldn’t even happen.”
“Oh, no,” I said, flapping my hands.
“Don’t be modest,” Mama Badd said, tipping her drink at me. From her half-shut eyelids, I suspected she was feeling the alcohol. “Frannie is right. You got her dress ready overnight, and you saved this dinner party.”
There was a large man across from Mama B. His jaw was thick as a melon, but the hard angles of his cheeks and nose revealed a familiar handsomeness. Neurons fired in the base of my brain. I knew he was Kain’s father before he spoke. “Thank you, Sammy,” he said, all silk and brass. “You’ve made my little girl very happy, and so you’ve made me happy.”
“Hear hear,” cheered a guy beside the big man’s elbow. He couldn’t have been much older than Kain, his eyes a black so pure I wondered where his pupils were. He was wearing a pearl-gray suit, but it didn’t hide his muscles one bit.
Francesca let me go, throwing her arms around her father. “I love ya, Daddy!”
Chuckling, he patted her back, then reached past her to offer me his hand. “Maverick,” he murmured. Linking my fingers with his, I had the unsettling thought that, if he wanted to, he could have crushed my bones without a struggle.
Maverick hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s Hawthorne, my second oldest.”
The guy winked at me. He took after his mother, the telltale blue eyes of his father replaced by wicked black holes. “Seconds can be better than firsts.” He chuckled.
I didn’t doubt that he was trying to flirt, but I was busy wondering . . . if he wasn’t the oldest, who was?
“Hm,” Maverick mumbled. “Where’s Kain? You’ve met him, right?”
Fuck, I was blushing all over again. “Uh, yeah. I have.”
Mama Badd turned in her chair, frowning at the darkened garden. “Maybe I should go look for him.”
“No!” Lifting my hands, I smiled appealingly. “Let me do it. I was going to wander around and get some air, anyway. It was nice to meet you all.” I’d hardly met half of them by the looks of all the unfamiliar faces, but that was fine with me.
I had too many sinful, sticky things in my head to wonder about Kain’s family tree.
That impossible man . . . he’d told me to drink, then find him. He’d probably expected me to back out. When I found him in the gardens, just outside the rows of tables everyone was gathered at, his face didn’t give his thoughts away. Had he heard us all talking or his father asking for him?
He had to, I can hear them just chatting from here. That meant he’d decided to ignore them all . . . and wait for me.
“Guess you made your choice,” he whispered.
On unsteady feet, I approached him. He was standing against a tall hedge, surrounded by roses that looked black instead of pink in the shade. It was cool enough to see my breath, the ghostly smoke rolling between us. June in New England loved to shift weather patterns by the damn hour.
I was a magnet to his iron touch. He snatched me up, his hands prowling over my stomach and hips. I was grateful for the chill; he’d turned me into a furnace.
Shivering under the slow rolling of his thumbs, I leaned upward. “You really think I’m not a local girl, huh?”
Light from the stars morphed his blue eyes into diamonds. “You’re not eager enough to get in my pants to be from around here, hon.”
We came together; I didn’t know who moved first. Running my lips across his, I tasted the last tangy drops of champagne. I’d wanted to be soft, but Kain gripped me tighter, his teeth battling with my tongue. Pulling back, I fought to catch my breath. “How about now? Still not convinced I’m eager?”
“No,” he growled. “Convince me more.”
The garden was fresh, it smelled green. Around us, his family and friends chatted and laughed into the cool night air. They didn’t see me take Kain’s hand. They didn’t see me drag him toward his house.
They definitely didn’t see me reach out to grab his ass.
We made it inside, up those treacherous stairs. It’s amazing we managed, everything felt like a fuzzy dream I’d barely remember later. Good, I told myself, following him into his bedroom. Once this is out of my system, I won’t want to remember.
He shoved me through the doorway; I stumbled, giving up any chance of taking control of our interaction. My vision spun, I could see dark walls, a darker bed, and a single window that hinted at the world outs
ide.
It was a setting that deprived me of all senses . . . all distractions . . . but one.
Him.
Kain hooked my dress hem and lifted it, digging his hands into my ass. He didn’t ask. He wasn’t the sort to waste time asking. A trickle of fear crawled along my spine. Will he go too far? Had I forgotten what kind of man he was so easily?
We’d only met yesterday—it felt ages ago. I’d known then that he was trouble. A man who demanded, a man who consumed until he was sated. How had I let myself forget why I’d been avoiding him?
Then his fingers cupped my pussy, and I stopped caring.
“You’re already wet,” he murmured. That raw sound shivered through my cells.
Taking his hand, I pushed him against me. “Don’t get a big ego. I just haven’t had sex in forever.”
I could feel his grin when it rubbed over my lips. He didn’t believe me. Riding his own arrogance, Kain threaded his fingers through the side of my panties. He outlined my lips, tracing outside, then along my slit.
Heat rippled through my core. I crushed my thighs around his wrist; he kept petting me, never bothering to remove my panties. “Fuck, you’re so ready.”
I wasn’t about to let him act like I was the only horny one in the room; I felt for his cock, expecting him to be hard . . . but I didn’t think he’d be so damn huge. “You’re ready, too.” I meant it to sound confident, except I was too overwhelmed.
“Of course I fucking am.” He yanked me down, dropping us both to the floor. Under my spine, his rug was thick and plush. “I’ve wanted to stretch you out with my cock since I saw you dancing around that shop of yours.”
That was news to me. Baffled, I thought of what to say. He saved me the effort, his erection pressing roughly into my middle. He rocked back and forth, his belt jingling. His zipper cut through the silence.
Ripping his pants down to his thighs, then his shirt over his head, he showed off his naked torso. The edges of his muscles were illuminated by the garden lights peeking through the window. Kain was more of a statue than a man; how else could he be so flawless?
