King of the South

by Calia Read

  “I believe so.” Rainey keeps her gaze forward. Her penmanship is fluid and graceful. The first letter of each name is always done with a bold loop that almost leads you to believe the name she just wrote was hers. I don’t know how she manages to write so beautifully.

  “You believe so,” I repeat under my breath.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  For reasons I cannot understand, Rainey is uncharacteristically upset with me. More so than usual. She received her wish. I did not impose on her time with Duncan. What is churning inside that stubborn mind of hers?

  If I didn’t have such a wicked headache, I might ponder over this a bit longer. Yet right now, all I want to do is walk out of the room, take a shower, and then pass out. And the only way that will happen is if we finish the task at hand.

  Rainey doesn’t need my help. She needs an assistant.

  “While I was … on my way, did you make much progress with plannin’ the ball?” I ask.

  “Oh, I did so much!” Rainey says with false enthusiasm. “Because as we both know, I am very well-trained for these events.”

  “You cannot say I didn’t try to prevent this, le savauge,” I point out, gesturing to the papers scattered about the table.

  “You’ve made it apparent you don’t want to be here, and neither do I. If we work together, we should only be a few more minutes, all right?” Rainey reasons.

  At random, I pick a name from the guest list and nod. “Fine by me.”

  One hour later, I throw my hands in the air. “I cannot do this any longer. How about you have anyone who desires to go to this ball place bets, and the people with the highest numbers get an invitation. Or perhaps, we can do a game of chance and place thirty names in a bucket. Draw ten, and those are your guests.”

  Rainey pinches the bridge of her nose and throws her pen onto the table. “Be serious.”

  “Oh, I am.”

  “We have ten more names left on the guest list. That’s all. Serene says the invitations need to be mailed immediately. Once we’re finished, you can take your leave.”

  “How kind of you,” I drolly reply.

  “I am not precisely thrilled about this either, Livingston,” Rainey grumbles as she picks up her pen and gets back to work. Her eyes remain glued to the envelope in front of her.

  Her words ricochet through my head so badly it feels as though my skull is going to break in half. Normally, my headaches disappear by this time of the day, but I don’t think it’s the amount of alcohol I drank last night that’s causing the tension to build. My nightmare hit the small part of my heart that wasn’t wounded and putting on a façade.

  Reluctantly, I grab my fountain pen. The muscles in my arm ache in protest with every glide of the pen. Who knew writing could exhaust you so much? Or perhaps, it’s been an incredibly long time since I’ve sat down and held a pen between my fingers.

  It makes me think of all the drawings in my office, hidden from sight. In France, I’d dream of locking myself away in my office and drawing endless houses until my imagination ran dry. Instead, I pulled all the curtains in the house closed until it resembled a dungeon and roamed the halls like a ghost with only liquor and questionable acquaintances to keep me company.

  “Precisely how long shall this go on?” Étienne’s question rings in my head.

  “How’s this?”

  Rainey lifts her gaze long enough to look at my handiwork. “Good. We’ll simply tell Mrs. Mattigola that Serene and Étienne’s daughter wrote her name.”

  I give her an irritated look and continue through the list of names. By the third invite, my hand cramps terribly. I drop my pen and shake my head. “I officially quit. There’s no longer any feelin’ in my hand.”

  Standing up, I shake my hand out and begin to pace. Even with a healthy distance away from the table, I can hear the steady scratch of Rainey’s pen against the envelope. Blood has begun to rush back to my hand, but I don’t stop pacing. I’m still irritated for reasons I cannot explain. I should’ve stayed at home.

  I stare at my hands and I see dirt packed beneath my nails and around my cuticles. Holding my hands in front of me, I spread my fingers. In and out, my hands go from being clean to filthy.

  In the distance, I can hear Rainey calling out to me, but her voice is overshadowed by the sound of screams and moans, and the smell of gunpowder.

  Impossible. Breathe. You need to breathe!

  I should’ve bathed. I always bathe. Why didn’t I bathe? I was determined to get here on time and not allow a glitch in my normal routine to throw me off. That’s why.

  Explain the situation. Rainey will understand!

  I don’t want her pity and sympathy. I’d much rather have her condemnation.

  As I look at Rainey in the eye, trying to formulate the correct words, she stands there patiently. She knows something isn’t quite right. I find myself moving toward her. Pain understands pain on a fundamental level. Perhaps, that’s why we consistently seek solace when we’re hurting even though we know we’ll regret it later.

  “I have things to do.”

  Rainey remains quiet.

  “Better things,” I say, my voice rising.

  She nods. That’s it.

  “You understand that, right?”

  At that, she lifts a brow. She’s not saying anything. I need her to respond.

  “The last thing I want to do is to fill out invitations for a bachelor ball,” I say, my words dripping with disdain. For such a large room, it feels as though it’s closing in on me rather quickly. I need to go home and take a shower to wash the dirt beneath my nails. I need to get away from everyone.

  Rainey takes a step forward. “Are you okay?” she asks as she reaches for me. I pull back.

  “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

  “No, wait.”

  When I move to the left, so does Rainey. I quickly dodge to the right, but Rainey is fast and anticipates my movements. She looks me straight in the eye. There is no condemnation. No humor. Just concern. I’d much rather have the humor.

  “Livingston, tell me what’s the matter,” she says quietly.

  My chest rises and falls rapidly.

  “You will be okay, and every breath you take is strength for tomorrow. You can make it through today. You’re Livingston Lacroix,” she whispers fiercely.

  I don’t deserve Rainey’s kindness, but I’ll accept it because there are terrifying moments in my life when I need something to hold onto. But I don’t want to have to hold onto her. I want to be able to shake off her arm and say that I’m okay.

  Grabbing her by both arms, I’m ready to tell her I simply can’t do this today, and she can find Serene or someone else better qualified. But when I do, Rainey’s dark eyes go wide, and this close I smell her scent.

  She smells … clean and refreshing. And her eyes are wide, fringed with dark lashes. When she parts her lips and takes a deep breath, I notice how plump her lips are. When did that happen?

  Frustration mounts as words become tangled in my throat and my body continues to betray me. It doesn’t help that Rainey isn’t saying a word, either.

  “Just … just.”

  Those are the last words I say to her before I groan and kiss Rainey Pleasonton. My best friend’s sister. I kiss her to silence the fear rocking through me, an urgent need for everything to be calm in my world.

  At first, her body is as rigid as her lips. My fingers are locked around her forearms, keeping them pinned to their sides because Rainey’s wild. I can never hold her in one place for long. I’m afraid if set free, she’ll run or punch me in the face.

  The longer the seconds go by, Rainey responds in a way I don’t expect. She’s hesitant, almost shy. My tongue repeatedly glides against the seam of her lips, but she doesn’t open her mouth, and that’s probably for the best. One of us has sense. I’ve clearly become unhinged.

  I’m persistent and patient as I give her closed-mouthed kisses. Very slowly, I feel her body become pliant. I release her arms
to cup her face, and her palms fall against my stomach as she tilts her head to the side. And then her lips part for me.

  I don’t let this opportunity go to waste. When my tongue moves against hers, she breathes in deep through her nose but doesn’t pull away. I don’t know what she’s thinking. But I know what I’m thinking, and it’s that Rainey tastes amazing.

  So amazing. A soft moan tears from her throat and rocks through me. Progressively, Rainey grows bolder. Her fingers spread and trail up my chest as her tongue touches mine.

  Panting, I rip my lips away from her and stare at Rainey with shock. For once, we wear the same expression. And for once, we’re both stunned into silence.

  Now it’s my turn for my hands to fall to my sides. I shake my head from side to side. What did I do? “I-I’m sorry,” I breathe and take a step back. It’s imperative that I do. Right now, my brain isn’t functioning properly.

  Rainey’s hands snake out and curl around my wrists. I freeze and stare at her slender fingers as they make soothing caresses on my skin. Swallowing, I look back at her. “No. Don’t be sorry. I didn’t want you to stop,” Rainey says softly. She tugs ever so softly, pulling me back. With my eyes fixated on hers, I go willingly.

  When she’s close enough to hold, she lets go, and it’s as though our bodies instinctively know what to do. She steps back into my arms, and I instinctively wrap them around her waist. Rainey gently holds my face. The hem of her gown brushes against my boots. She inspects me, as though I’ve spoken to her in a language she doesn’t understand. Then she leans in, and her nose brushes against mine. Her lips are inches away. She stays still, her fingertips stroking my cheek. It’s sweet and gentle and unexpected from Rainey. I find myself leaning into her touch.

  Her touches cease as her lips brush across mine once, then twice. So soft, I question if I imagined them. But each one grows with intensity. By the fifth kiss, her grip on my face tightens, so she’s holding me in place as she kisses me deeply. My control is starting to break. Something close to a groan escapes my mouth.

  Slowly, go, slowly, I remind myself.

  Rainey is inexperienced but eager. I attempt to take control, my tongue moving against her bottom lip. Pressing her flush against me, I gather the fabric of her dress in my fists. Anything to get closer to her. To her bare skin. I feel Rainey everywhere, and it doesn’t feel close to enough.

  She’s untamed and nothing I’ve ever held in my arms.

  What were we precisely doing before this? Is it daylight or night? Where are we? Don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter. I hear nothing and feel nothing but Rainey.

  She arches against me, allowing me to feel the outline of her body. Her small breasts rub across my chest, and it takes all of my power not to touch them.

  Curling her fingers around the collar of my shirt, she jerks me toward her until there’s no space between our bodies. She stands on her tiptoes until we’re nearly the same height and sucks on my tongue.

  My God, what have I unleashed?

  She hums her approval. Her hands are wild as they unbutton my vest and the top three buttons of my shirt. I attempt to help her, but she bats my hands away and continues to fumble her way through. My shirt gapes open. The tips of her fingers touch my chest. My heart jumps as though this is the first time I’ve held a woman.

  Although this is the first time I’ve ever held a savage woman. Any man with sense would be terrified, but I lost my senses the second I kissed her, so I let her have her way. Her hands trace each line and groove on my stomach so quickly she leaves behind scratches.

  I intended to go slowly. I am capable of kissing and walking away. At least I have been in the past. But I can’t seem to stop and neither can Rainey. She grows bolder with each second, using her hands and lips.

  Her back hits the wall. I wasn’t aware we were moving.

  Unable to stop myself, I gently suck on her neck. She shudders but doesn’t crumple or become weak at the knees. No, not Rainey. Not my le savauge.

  I’m certain she will match me kiss for kiss.

  Touch for touch.

  Passion for passion.

  And it gives me something I haven’t felt for some time. Excitement. What courses through me, inflating my lungs and making my hands shake. My grip on Rainey tightens as though she’ll unexpectedly be ripped from me.

  She’s desperately holding on, and I’m desperate to hold someone. My hands skim up her body, feeling the rigid grooves of her corset. I hear the hitch in her breath. Her fingernails dig into the skin around my hips. I don’t have to ask her if I’m the first man to touch her like this because I know I am. That makes me move a bit slower and savor the moment.

  My lips find their way back to hers. And right as my thumbs brush the underside of her breasts, the door bangs against the wall. At once, I pivot so my body’s looming over Rainey’s, blocking her from sight, but I know it’s too late. Whoever is standing in the doorway saw us. Looking over my shoulder, I see my very pregnant sister-in-law and my niece standing there. Alex smiles widely, oblivious to what she’s walked in on. Serene’s mouth hangs open while her face turns as red as her hair.

  Is this payback for the time I walked in on her and my brother after they had sex in Étienne’s office? Perhaps.

  “Uhh …” Serene says.

  With one hand firmly around Rainey, I continue to look at my sister-in-law. “We were just—”

  “No explanation needed,” Serene cuts in. She holds her hand out for Alex to take and immediately turns back toward the doors. “We saw nothing.”

  As they leave, I hear her say to my niece in a sweet voice, “Alex, honey, this is what I like to call bad timing.”

  With my heart fiercely pounding, I watch my sister-in-law walk my niece out of the room. Serene gives me a knowing smirk before she shuts the door. Turning back to Rainey, I close my eyes and sigh.

  When the two of us separate, my body becomes cold. The way you feel when something warm has abruptly been ripped away from you. My fingers clench and stretch as I fight the urge to reach for her. Immediately, Rainey sets to work on her clothes. I follow her lead, buttoning up my shirt and tucking the hem back into my pants. Rainey makes a point not to look at me. I can’t say the same for myself. I can’t remember the last time I kissed a woman and responded in that way. I’m still in a daze and watch as she attempts to fix her hair. Both hands lift to her hair as she adjusts the pins, and her blouse stretches against her breasts.

  Dear God, what’s wrong with me? I want her again.

  Clearing my throat, I take a step back. “I’m late …” Blindly, I point toward the windows facing the driveway. “For a meetin’.”

  Slowly, Rainey lowers her hands. And for once, she nods. “Of course, of course.”

  “All right, then.” I dip my head in her direction and blindly point toward the doors. “I should be goin’.”

  “All right.”

  My head tilts to the side as I inspect her. Has her lower lip always been so soft and plump? I swear I would’ve recognized that before.

  “Uh, Livingston?” Rainey says, interrupting my thoughts. “You said you had a meetin’?”

  “Right, right.” I start to walk backward toward the double doors. Once I’m in the hallway, I take a deep breath, and hurry toward the stairs.

  What happened between the two of us?

  Better yet, who is Rainey Pleasonton? Her aim with kisses is unparalleled and strikes harder than any bullet. I’m beginning to recognize just how dangerous Rainey truly is.

  Rather than leaving, I head to the east wing toward Étienne’s office. When I go to knock on the door, it swings opens. I jump, slamming my back against the wall as though I’ve been caught kissing Rainey all over again. Étienne’s head jerks up from the paper in his hand, and he looks at me with confusion. “Oh. Hello.”

  “Hi,” I say with a hint of guilt.

  My brother frowns at me. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  I pass by him, heading
directly to the sideboard. I need a drink. Right away. “Can’t a brother visit his brother?”

  “I suppose so. But normally you aren’t in the business of bein’ up at”—Étienne pulls his pocket watch out to look at the time— “eleven in the morning.”

  I pour myself a generous drink of scotch. “I was with Rainey.”

  “Ah, yes, your ward.”

  “Can we not call her that? Why must people continue to call her that?” I say, my words flowing together in one giant rush before I tip back the scotch. It burns going down, but the adrenaline coursing through me is causing my hands to shake. All because of a kiss.

  Étienne arches a brow. “For the very reaction you gave me?”

  I swallow loudly and place the empty glass on the sideboard. I want another drink, but I need to pace myself. I drop heavily into one of the seats across from his desks, resting my elbows on my knees, and drag my hands down my face.

  My brother walks pasts me and chuckles. “You seem distraught. I would ask why, but I’ve been in your position many times.”

  Lifting my head, I watch as he leans against his desk. “My situation is not similar to you and Serene.”

  “Of course it isn’t. But it’s interestin’… I was in denial when I first met Serene, the very same way you are now.”

  “I don’t deny a thing. Because there’s no attraction between Rainey and me.”

  Lie.

  All I can think about right now is whether she’s still in the ballroom and how quickly I could run up the stairs and kiss her again. Groaning, I run my hands through my hair.

  Christ. What have I done?

  “Are you certain nothin’ else is amiss?” Étienne asks after a few seconds of silence.

  I lift my head and look him in the eye. “Absolutely.”

  Lie, lie, lie, lie … LIE!

  Étienne stares at me for a moment longer. “Very well. I was goin’ to take a much-needed break and go to the stables. Would you like to come?”

  “You’re takin’ a break?”

  Étienne pushes away from his desk, looking unamused. “I take breaks. Only when they’re needed. Now come with me. Whatever you went through with Rainey...” My brother looks at me carefully. “You need a break.”