by Fallon Hart
I was lying on the chaise longue writing. “Come in.”
I’d been expecting Wells, the young butler Xavier was training. He was a tall, cute, twenty-one year old who blushed anytime I thanked him for something.
It wasn’t Wells.
Griff stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Like yesterday when Pete did it, my heart started to race. But not in the same way. At all.
The reminder that I was attracted to Griff, despite everything, annoyed me.
His gaze dropped to my laptop, curiosity wrinkling his brow. “What are you doing?”
“Writing.” I shut the laptop and swung my legs off the chaise.
He raised an eyebrow. “A book?”
His surprise only ramped up my irritation. He acted as if any sign of my intelligence was a shock. “Yes, a book. Memoirs of a High End Whore.”
To my annoyance, Griff chuckled and lowered himself into the armchair across from me. “Someone’s feisty this morning.”
“Don’t be condescending. Why are you here? It isn’t dinner yet.”
Something about that made him scowl.
“Well?”
“I spoke to Pete.”
I tensed.
“He said you were flirting with him and he took it as an invitation to flirt back.”
Rage and indignation shot through me so fast I knocked the laptop to the floor as I bolted to my feet. “That lying bastard!”
“I don’t believe him.” Griff held up a reassuring hand. “Sit. Please.”
Trembling, I lowered back to the chaise. “You don’t believe him?”
“Pete and I have been friends since we met at Wharton. He’s one of those men who is a man’s man—charismatic good old boy. The club members love him which makes him an excellent manager. He’s from a once-wealthy family. They lost their money while he was in business school. That’s why he works for me. Between what I pay him and his investment portfolios he does quite well.”
“You’re telling me all this why?”
“He may seem like just a club manager to you but he grew up very privileged and, thus, has never really stopped feeling entitled. We’re friends but I know my friend. He likes to get whatever I can get and that means going after the women I’ve been with. Some have gone to him and some haven’t but it’s never really bothered me. I’m not a jealous man. I think that my not stopping him from pursuing the women I take to bed has given him the idea he can do whatever the fuck he wants.” He leaned forward, serious. “I believe you didn’t come on to him in the town car. I know his nose is bothering him about us, trying to figure us out, and last night he decided to push. Instead of pushing me, he pushed you, which he now knows was a gargantuan fucking mistake. He won’t push again, not where you’re concerned, or he’s out of a job.”
Shocked I barely got the words out. “You said that to him?”
“Yes. Suffice it to say he wasn’t expecting it. But now he knows the lay of the land.”
At my continued silence, Griff went on, “I’ve never known him to touch a woman against her will and I know you feared he would cross that line last night. I want to reassure you that I don’t believe he’d ever do that. I wouldn’t be friends with a man like that. However, the fact is that he frightened you, and that won’t stand. It also won’t happen again.”
“What if you’re wrong about him? You think everyone likes him but they don’t. Quentin doesn’t.”
“No, he doesn’t,” he admitted, studying me carefully. “They’ve never gotten along. He doesn’t trust Pete but he doesn’t know Pete as well as I do. He’s loyal to me, Melanie. Extremely. He was very upset this morning when I warned him he’d be out of a job and has assured me that he never meant to cause you such distress. Even so, you won’t have to be alone with him ever again. Okay?”
I nodded.
Griff’s eyes moved to the floor. “What are you really writing?”
My writing was extremely personal so I just shrugged. “I don’t really know yet.”
His dark gaze roamed my face, his lips pressing together in what almost seemed like frustration. Finally he stood up to leave. “You need a desk in here.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m comfy as I am.”
“Alright.” He strode toward the door and as he pulled it open he turned to me. “Dinner here again tonight.”
“Okay. I’ll see you at dinner.”
When Griff left I stared at the door, actually worrying for him a little. For a man who seemed to be so in control of everything and everyone around him, he had a habit of underestimating people. I knew he underestimated me. And I think he underestimated his ability to handle ‘single white female’ Pete Svenson. For instance, I couldn’t imagine he wasn’t furious at me for making Griff pissed at him. Only time would tell, I supposed, but I couldn’t shift the uneasy feeling the thought of the club factotum left me with.
◆◆◆
“How was your day?” I asked Griff that evening at dinner, sounding like a robotic housewife.
As ever Chef Depardieu had prepared a wonderful meal. I just wished for once I could enjoy it feeling fully relaxed around Griffin. But I couldn’t. The man gave me butterflies. I just had to deal with it.
“Progress on the harbor apartments is where it should be. We have a membership opening at the club so we were assessing people on the waiting list. That was a bit tedious.” He shrugged.
“How does the selection process work?”
“We have almost as many people on the waiting list as we have members,” he said with a little smirk of pride. “It’s a long process. Those we shortlist have to allow us access to their financial accounts so we know they can afford the fees and have the money to win and lose in the hazard room.”
Thinking of the gaming room and my growing curiosity I said, “I know it’s members-only but I’d love to see the hazard room when it’s buzzing with life one night.”
Griff nodded and swallowed a bite of his chicken before he replied, “When you’re officially my fiancé I’ll take you in, let you play, if you like? No one will think anything of it then.”
Understanding the club relied on its promise of exclusivity and privacy, I didn’t push the subject. I could wait.
“Tell me about you sister,” he said abruptly.
Those butterflies I’d tamped down so I could eat suddenly flared to life. “My sister?”
“Yes. Scarlett. I haven’t heard you mention her while you’ve been here. I gather you’re not close. You can get away with this ruse without needing to answer to her?”
I pulled on every acting skill I had to remain outwardly relaxed. “We’re not close, no.”
“Did your parents death have anything to do with that?”
I lowered my gaze to my plate, the grief that had burrowed into my soul, marking it forever, hovering close to my surface. “No.”
“What exactly happened there? With your parents?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Melanie, look at me.”
His tone brooked no argument so I reluctantly lifted my gaze. Whatever he saw there made his usually stoic expression soften. “We need to know each other a little better than we do right now. I need to know that talking about your parents puts that look on your face so I can intervene when anyone else brings the subject up. That’s what a husband would do. Do you understand? We need to create the illusion of intimacy and right now I think we’re failing.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. “My parents were the kind of parents everyone wishes they had. They adored Scarlett because she lived for making them proud. She was too shy to ever be truly ambitious but she went to college, got her library information degree, and started a solid career doing something she loved. They told her all the time how proud of her they were. Me?” I smiled sadly, remembering their conversations with my sister. “No matter what stupid things I did they always encouraged me to be better. Told me I was capable of so much more. I think, maybe, they were probably
too encouraging. I needed a firmer hand… but they just didn’t want me to ever think that just because I did disappointing things that they didn’t love me.” I’d often wondered if their never-ending support actually pushed Mel away because she couldn’t live with the guilt.
“We were only eighteen when they died. I’d moved out three months before and was living with an asshole boyfriend whose name I can’t even remember. And Scarlett,” I tried not flinch remembering where I was that night, “Was with her childhood sweetheart. It was the first time she’d stayed overnight with him, if you can believe it. That one act of finally saying to our parents ‘hey, I’m an adult and I sleep with my boyfriend’ saved her life.”
Griff’s voice cut through my memories. “It was a gas leak, wasn’t it?”
I nodded, emotion clogging my throat so thick I couldn’t speak for what felt like forever. To my shock Griff sat patiently, waiting for me to collect myself. Finally, when I felt like I wasn’t going to break down, I continued, “The carbon monoxide detector didn’t go off. The batteries were dead.” Images of sneaking back into the house and smelling the gas flooded me… I couldn’t let my memories take me beyond that. “Scarlett found them.”
“I’m sorry, Melanie.”
I flinched, hearing him say the wrong name, but he confused the reaction for grief.
“Scarlett got married a few months later and then was widowed not too long after that, correct?”
This time there was no meeting his gaze. “She’d known Eric since middle school. They were both nerds but he grew out of his outer nerdiness. He became the high school quarterback, even though he was still a nerd underneath the jock. I used to tease Scar about how sweet everyone thought it was that the most popular guy in school continued to date the most bookish girl in school. But he loved her.” He had loved me. I knew that with everything in me. “He was a good guy. A really good guy.”
“Was he the honorable man you once mentioned?”
My gaze flew to his and I could see suspicions in his expression. Right then I knew he was questioning whether Mel had been in love with her sister’s boyfriend. Obviously, I hadn’t hidden my grief over his death very well. Let him think what he liked. Mel hadn’t loved Eric. I doubted Mel had ever loved any man other than my father. “Yes.”
“It was cancer?”
“A brain tumor.” I shrugged, not able to discuss that without breaking down. “Scarlett couldn’t talk about it so I don’t know much about what went on there.” I looked directly into his eyes, wanting to push him as much he’d just pushed me. “What about you? Your parents?”
His mouth tightened and I could see the resistance in his eyes. But he would be a hypocrite if he didn’t give me something. I defiantly held his gaze, refusing to look away. Finally he said, “All you need to know is that I was close to my mother and she died of breast cancer when I was thirteen. I was not close to my father. He was an abusive alcoholic who treated me and my mother like shit and still thought he owned her after she divorced him. He thought he owned me too. I spent most of my life hating him until I decided he wasn’t worth the energy it was costing me,” he clipped out. Then he continued to eat as if he hadn’t revealed anything personal about himself.
Realizing that was all I was going to get, I took it. It was better than nothing. Still, I said, “I told you more.”
He tilted his head in speculation. “Did you?”
Thinking about, I’d guarded every word because I was telling the story from Mel’s perspective. I nodded, letting the subject drop.
To my surprise once we’d finished dinner, Griff said, “I’ll walk you to your room before I return to work.”
Those butterflies raged to life, wondering why on earth he wanted to walk me to my room. I said nothing, walking slowly by his side as we made our way through the penthouse toward my suite. When we got to my door, Griff shocked the hell out of me by placing a hand on my waist to draw me to him.
Close enough to kiss the corner of my mouth.
Feeling my tension he pulled back to stare down at me. My gaze got stuck on that full, brooding mouth of his. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
“You need to get used to my touch. I’ve been taking it easy but we need to ramp things up if we’re to deceive people at a three night house party. The women I’ve been with…”
My gaze finally unstuck from his mouth and met his. There was a reluctance in his eyes and I guessed he didn’t like discussing his previous relationships. If that’s what you could call them. “I’m not a very affectionate person in public. I need to be affectionate with you if my friends and acquaintances are to believe you’re different from the rest. That way the engagement will come as less of a surprise.” His hand tightened on my waist. “Moreover, we’ll be sharing a room. There’s no way out of that without raising suspicion. And although I don’t expect anything from you, we need to give the impression that you’re used to my hands and mouth on you. You can’t tense every time I touch you.”
My heart was suddenly pounding, the blood whooshing in my ears. “I don’t tense when you touch me.”
Griff smirked. “You just did.”
“Do it again,” I said stubbornly. “I won’t tense.”
His head lowered to meet my lips and instead of a simple brush of his mouth against the corner of mine, he kissed me. Softly. Slowly. Coaxing me to relax. My lips tingled with every soft caress and heat flashed through me. I longed for more so I stepped into him, my hands resting against his hard chest, and Griff accepted the silent invitation. His kiss changed, his lips pressing harder, seeking an opening. I parted my lips and his tongue immediately touched mine.
Sexual need flashed through me, plumping my breasts, hardening my nipples and slickening my sex. I’d never reacted to a man like I reacted to Griffin Mandeville. It confused me. As a teenager I’d wanted Eric but my body had never been consumed with such primal lust.
I wasn’t the only one who felt it either.
Griffin groaned and shoved me back against the wall so he could press the full length of his hard, long body into mine. His hands touched me everywhere as our kiss grew hungrier and wetter. Suddenly he ground his hips into mine. At the feel of his arousal digging, seeking the hot wet heat between my legs, passion blazed through me. I wrapped my arms around his back, drawing him closer and whimpered loudly into his mouth with need.
The sound seemed to pull Griff out of the moment.
He broke the kiss and stumbled, backing away from me.
At first he looked dazed, confused.
Then that expression changed as he stared at me pressed against the wall, panting unashamedly with lust.
That lust was doused by the cold look he bestowed on me as he straightened his clothes. My gaze flickered down to his obvious erection and I blushed, pushing off the wall.
Griff glowered at me for a second and then let out a humorless chuckle. “I can see now why you get the big money.”
Confused, sex-befuddled, I didn’t understand what he meant.
He huffed at my expression and dragged a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation. “The womanly whimper of need, Melanie. It was a nice touch. I bet all your clients think you actually want them when you do that.”
Understanding hit me like a punch to the chest.
We both knew that what happened between us wasn’t faked but he was such a controlling bastard he needed to make the situation into something he could manage. Something that didn’t complicate everything. Even if he hurt me to do it.
And I knew I didn’t hide my hurt because as I threw open my bedroom door I heard him curse in frustration just before I slammed it in his face.
CHAPTER NINE
“I was thinking after the engagement I could tell Griffin I’m going to New York for the weekend to tour wedding boutiques. That way I can visit Mel.”
I leaned against the four poster bed in my suite, cell to my ear, waiting for Octavius to reply.
He sighed loudly. “I d
on’t think so, Scarlett.”
Tensing with annoyance I replied, “Why not?”
I needed to see my sister.
Three weeks had passed since my little sexual interlude with Griff outside my bedroom. He’d found excuses to avoid eating with me for a few nights but eventually he had to resume our ‘courtship’. It was awkward as hell at first. Okay, it had never really stopped being awkward. We tried to ignore the tension between us but it honestly felt like anytime we were in a room together an unexploded bomb took up residence between us. Any wrong move might set it off.
Now we were packing to leave for Rhode Island and the Danvers house party, and my increasing concern for Mel was distracting me from the job Octavius had coerced me into doing.
“I thought she was calling you every week,” he said.
“She is. But I need to see for myself that she’s okay.”
He was silent a moment. “She’s tougher than she looks, baby.”
I shook my head. “It’s not about how tough she is. She’s family. End of.” I glanced at my travel luggage sitting by the door. “Anyway, I better get going. We’re leaving soon.”
“On that note, you okay about spending time with Mandeville at a house party, pretending to share a bed and all that shit?”
I gave a huff of bitter laughter. “You care, Octavius?”
“I look after my girls,” he bit out.
“I’m not your girl,” I reminded him. “I’m not an escort. I don’t sleep with strange men and I don’t intend to start now.”
“You been living with this guy for almost two months. He’s not a stranger anymore, baby.”
“Octavius, you’ve met him right? He’s still a stranger, believe me.”
“Yeah, the man is cold.”
Until he put his hands on me and then he became a wild fire. “I need to go.”
“Call me if you need me.” He hung up before I could push about visiting Mel in prison.
Exhaling shakily, I stared at my suitcase. I was facing a ninety minute drive to Wickford in Rhode Island. Alone with Griff.
