He nestles his head on top of mine, tucks his hands underneath me, and pulls me flush against him.
I laugh at the way he’s cocooned me.
“I would never have guessed you grew up sleeping with a binkie. You’re a pro at the full body wraparound snuggle,” I say.
“Binkie?” he asks sleepily.
“Binkie. That’s what we call security blankets, stuffed animal, your mama’s T-shirt. You know, something that you hold because it helps you sleep.”
“Well, clearly, I’m a natural at the full body wraparound, because I can confirm, you’re my very first one.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head and sighs, deep and content before his breathing evens out.
And I lie there and let myself enjoy what I know will go down as one of the best nights of my life.
LOVERS
HAYES
“Woah, yeah. Hayes, this is a full 180 from where you were last night. Last night you said, and I quote, ‘I would have fucked her, but I could never have brought her home.’” My brother Dare peers into the FaceTime screen on my phone.
I bristle. “I didn’t say that,” I say.
“Actually, you texted it, but either way, that’s how you described her. And now …”
“Things have changed, and I need to know who she is,” I tell him.
His one-eyed squint full of skeptical amusement, he asks, “Who are you and what did you do with my older brother? Mr. I’ll – never — date — seriously — again?” Dare frowns.
“Listen, I need to get in there. I just wanted to see if you could get me the background check without me having to use official channels. If you’re just going to talk shit, I’ll talk to you later,” I snap at him and run my fingers through my hair.
“Wait, at least let me give you some advice. Because if nothing else, you know you’re moving too fast, or else you wouldn’t have called me,” he drawls.
“It is too fast. But I need to make sure this isn’t another Renee situation. Can you get it? Or not?” I fix him with a stony glare. He rolls his eyes in defeat but pushes back one more time.
“Why don’t you just get to know her yourself? Don’t freak out because you actually like her. I mean, it sucks that she’s ‘unpolished and unbred’—”
“Hey, I didn’t say that,” I protest.
“That’s what you said it boils down to. And if you’re really worried about her pedigree, maybe you’re not ready to be with anyone right now.”
“I don’t give a shit about her pedigree. And don’t be dramatic, Dare.” I dismiss his rebuke.
“Hayes, a background check is fucking dramatic. And it’s dishonest. What’ll you do if she finds out?”
“How would she find out?”
“Well, hopefully, when you realize what a dick move it was and tell her,” he says.
“I’m glad you’ve finally found a moral compass, Dare. How about you practice using it before you start lecturing me about honesty,” I say sarcastically.
He laughs. “I’ve always had a good moral compass. Just not when it comes to my own life.”
I frown at him.
He sighs and shakes his head. “Why don’t you just trust what you feel, He-man?” He uses the nickname he gave me when our parents first got married. I lean against the wall and scowl at him.
“Because, I don’t trust myself. Not anymore. I just inherited the keys to a kingdom, Dare, and whoever I’m with will have access to them. I need to be sure. If you can’t do it, I have two other guys I can call,” I tell him flatly.
He sits up and takes a deep breath with his vape pen in between his lips. “I got you, bro.” He says it with barely tepid enthusiasm.
“Somehow, that doesn’t inspire confidence, Dare,” I mutter.
“Yeah. Well, I said I’d do it. I didn’t say I’d pretend to enjoy it. I hope once it comes back, you’ll find a way to tell her and apologize.”
“Sure, any other advice?” I ask sarcastically.
“When you fuck her, only kiss her once and make sure when you come you aren’t looking her in the eyes.—”
“I do not need any advice about how to fuck, Dare,” I tell him and grimace in annoyance.
“I only meant until you get the background check results and can confirm that falling in love with her is safe.”
“Dare …” I growl in impatiently.
He winks. “I’ll never lie to you. I know your bark is worse than your bite. And I’m your brother. We’re BFFs forever,” he chirps in a high-pitched voice.
“Shut up and get me the info,” I snap, and I hear his laughter when I press the end call button.
I got a call from the office in the middle of the wedding ceremony. I stepped out of the tiny seaside chapel to take it and I’ve been gone for more than an hour. I had been more than ready to go find Confidence, but I needed to call Dare first.
I walk back to the terrace where the tent has been set up for two days. During the day, the flaps are raised, and you can see clear to the horizon.
Tonight, it’s pouring rain outside. And the curtains are tightly closed against it. The ceiling is pitch black and blanketed with thousands of rows of twinkling lights in the shape of stars. Huge, lush trees with golden, round imitation fruit hanging off them line the walls and act as cover for the seating alcoves tucked into the corners of the space. There are flowers everywhere that complete the look. It sets a beautiful scene. Yet, it all fades into the background when I finally see her.
Nothing in this room is nearly as beautiful, original, or fresh as Confidence. I’ve thought of nearly nothing else since I laid eyes on her in the hallway.
Her golden spun hair is swept off her neck and face and piled in a mass of curls on the top of her head like a crown. She’s got some sort of jewelry interspersed in it and the stones fire like diamonds when they catch the lights from overhead. The thin white straps of her dress cling to her shoulders, but they look like they’d slip off at the slightest provocation.
A gust of wind.
The gentle nudge of my nose.
In the hungry grip of my teeth.
The lights overhead reflect on her bare back like a cloak of diamonds. How fucking appropriate.
I keep my eyes on her as I approach and watch the movements of her back and the elegant sway of her neck as she laughs at something. I can’t wait to press my lips to that sweet, fragrant skin.
Her hand slides up to caress the very spot I was just fantasizing about. Her fingers linger there and her head lolls slightly. And like she can sense me, she turns her graceful neck until she’s facing me.
The smile on her face when she sees me feels too good to be true. We hold eyes as I walk up to the table.
Am I being a fool?
Does it matter if it’s just going to be a few days of fun?
Will a few days of fun be enough? I push aside the unease that pings in my chest at that thought.
Conversation stops when I get to the table. I smile at them, greet a few by name. Their response is universal and reminds me why I sit by myself. They all congratulate me on my chairmanship and a few ask for a meeting.
When I’ve finally done my social duty, I smile down at Confidence. “Good evening.” A small dimple indents the middle of her right cheek. I run the tip of my finger over it and trace the underside of her lip. Her skin feels like the softest velvet. She blushes and tucks a thick strand of curls behind her ear and smiles wide.
“Did you rest this afternoon?” I tip her chin up with my finger and her delicate throat bobs.
Oh, yes. There’s something about her.
“Yeah, I did. How was work?” she asks. Her blue eyes catch the light and glimmer with desire. I stroke her shoulder and fiddle with the thin strap of her dress.
“I wanted to come and see you, but—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Rivers.” A hand taps my sleeve, and I look down at the man sitting next to her. “Yes?” I glance down at him in irritation.
He gives me a wan smile and sits
up straighter. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Giovanni Caselli.” He nods at Confidence. “I’m this young lady’s escort tonight. I met her in the bar—” I immediately tune him out.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask Confidence. She shoots a worried glance at her companion and then back at me. “Maybe a limoncello, but it can wait. You just got here,” she says.
“Mr. Caselli, if you would,” I look down at the third wheel and scowl. “I’ll have a whisky soda.”
He only hesitates for the blink of an eye before he stands up. “Oh, it would be my honor to fetch you a drink, Mr. Rivers,” he says. His thickly accented English is perfect and he bobs up and down. “Please feel free to use my seat while I’m gone.”
Fucking coward.
I lean in and whisper in his ear, “Invia un server con i nostri drink in modo da poterti concentrare sulla ricerca di un altro posto.” Send a waiter with our drinks and find yourself another seat.
His eyes widen at my directive, but he nods, bows to the rest of the table, and with a furtive, “Ciao” in Confidence’s direction, he darts off.
“What did you say to him?” she asks with a disapproving laugh. I drop down in the seat next to her and grab the leg of hers and drag it over.
“I thanked him for keeping my seat warm,” I say with a shrug. My eyes sweep the rest of the table, and a few of the eyes trained on us zip away. But a couple actually gawk for another second before they bend their heads together to gossip.
“Why is everyone staring?” she whispers, her eyes wide as she looks around the table.
“They’re shocked that I’m sitting here. I haven’t had a plus one in five years. For me, these events are about business. It’s a chance to catch people with their guard down, make a deal that would be impossible to hatch in a boardroom.”
“So, you don’t have business this time?” she asks.
“Yeah ... You,” I say.
She laughs. “You’re so smooth when you want to be,” she teases.
I pick up her hand and place it in my palm. She stops laughing and wraps her delicate fingers around mine. Her nails are painted a light pink. They’re short, simple, but so fucking pretty. Just like her.
“But I can’t seem to stop touching you,” I say quietly and look back at her face.
Her eyes sink their hooks into me and reel me in. I go willingly. I want to backstroke in those baby blues. Her full, red lips are parted and soft.
She’s practically drooling.
“Does it turn you on?” I ask, half teasing, half pleased as fuck.
She’s good company. I feel completely comfortable with her. Like I do with my brothers, and a very small handful of friends. She’s smart and funny. And she looks at me and just sees a man she’s attracted to. Not what I can do for her.
It’s bad timing. I have so much on my plate. I have no idea what will happen when the wedding is over. But, I know that I’d like to see her again. Is she even thinking about it, or is this really just the weekend fling she talked about last night?
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
“This and that,” I say vaguely, but I add a smile so she doesn’t pick up on the prickle of unease in my gut
I trace her finger absently and think about what I said to Dare. It’s true—it would be seen as a misalliance. But, it wouldn’t be. There’s nothing I’ve seen that says she’s not amazing. I want to explore what we’ve ignited this weekend.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
She raises her eyebrows in amusement. “Just that I’m sure everyone would be shocked to find that underneath your Duke of Midnight persona, you’re really an introvert who creates distance to prevent being disappointed.”
“I have no idea what the Duke of Midnight reference alludes to, but the rest is essentially correct,” I admit with a shrug. I am very well aware of all of my shortcomings and of my character. The way my past experiences have shaped the way I build relationships. I see them as just part and parcel of who I am.
“Duke of Midnight … It’s the title of a book I read a few years ago. A historical romance where, by day, the duke is an autocratic and powerful member of parliament. By night, though, he was a sort of protector of the poor—Victorian England’s version of Batman. Anyway, no one would have guessed that his motivations were all about avenging his parents’ murders and not about being the most powerful duke in the world. It’s such a great book. And after yesterday, I think you’d be just like that if circumstances called for it.” She smiles.
I hear Dare’s voice in my head when she does exactly what he suggested I try—trusting how she feels and what I’ve shown her to decide if I’m worth knowing. I feel my first niggle of guilt about ordering that background check.
I swivel the small stack of delicate gold rings that adorn her middle finger.
She’s told me about losing her job. If there’s nothing more scandalous in her past than that, then it would be a good indicator that there won’t be anything scandalous in her future. After Renee, I won’t take anymore chances with the women in my life. My responsibility is to make sure I pass on a legacy worth fighting for to the next generation. My personal desires come second to that.
My brothers have talked themselves blue in the face trying to convince me that I should date again. I’ve ignored them. They have the luxury of doing whatever they want. As long as I’m alive, it’s my responsibility to continue the family name. Have children, grow what we have—to continue funding medical research, continue investing in the city that made us who we are. And to steer us in the direction of being what we’ve always been. Leaders, contributors, powerful, and respected.
The tickle of her fingers tracing my knuckles draws me back to the moment. I glance up at her face to find her watching our joined hands, lost in an internal conversation of her own. I watch her unobserved and lose the ability to breathe.
She’s more beautiful than anyone has the right to be. And the longer I look at her, the more I’m sure she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Her lush lips are coated in an obscenely sexy, slick, red lipstick. Her cheeks shimmer with what looks like gold dust. How fitting, since she looks like a very sexy fairy. Her dress is white lace confection that’s stark in contrast to the smooth tanned skin of her chest and arms. Her hair sits in a blonde knot that kisses the nape of her neck and I’m jealous of it. I imagine closing my lips over that spot and whirling my tongue over it before I sucked her hard enough to leave a mark.
She’s still staring at our hands and her lips lift in a quirk.
She traces the network of veins that cross the back of my hand.
“You’ve got such big hands,” she says absently.
“Yours are so small,” I respond.
I feel eyes on us, and when I look back at the table, their eyes all dart away like roaches when the lights come on. I should give them something to make their gossip worth it.
“Let’s dance,” I say.
“I thought you didn’t dance,” she says.
I answer by standing up and holding my hand out to her.
“May I?” I ask with a formal bow.
She giggles, but pouts and points down at her booted foot with a frown. The large plastic boot that’s holding her sprained ankle in place sticks out of the bottom of her long, flowing, white lace skirt.
“I can’t dance on it; walking is about as good as it gets.”
“You can if you’re standing on my feet,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen with surprise and her mouth drops open in a happy smile. She stands up, grabs my hands, and beams up at me.
“That’s the nicest thing, but I’m not exactly small and this boot—”
“You’re tiny,” I retort.
“I’m short, but I’m certainly more than a small handful.” She starts to sit back down, but I put a hand at her waist and pull her gently into my chest.
“Well, it’s a good thing I have these big hands, isn’t it?” I murmur in her ear. I
lead her slowly onto the dance floor and point down at my feet.
“Climb on.” I hold out my upturned hands to her.
She gives me a slightly skeptical smile before she says, “Okay. But you better not let me fall,” she warns and then she puts one foot on top of mine.
“Never,” I say and tighten my grip on her waist.
The song starts to fade and the next one starts. I startle.
“Oh, my goodness, is this Elvis?” she asks as she places the ball of her silver ballet-slippered foot onto my other.
“He’s very popular in Europe,” I say and smile as the strains of the song “Can’t Help Falling in Love” start to play. I look up to the ceiling of the tent and thank my dad for the sign.
I slip both of my arms around her waist and draw her into me. The bodice of her dress has a V down the front that stops a few inches above her belly button. The one in the back is just as deep and twice as wide. She looks like an entire meal tonight.
I slide one hand up the expanse of velvet skin of her back and wrap the other around her waist.
“Slip your arms around my neck,” I murmur. She does it slowly, her eyes on my mouth as her fingers link behind my neck.
Now, we’re chest to chest, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and cheek to cheek. Elvis is crooning about wise men and fools. This unexpectedly wonderful woman amazes me. And I can’t help but nod in agreement when he sings, “some things are meant to be.”
I lean in, brush a kiss across her soft, pliant lips. The touch pulses. The air is vibrating with attraction and the pull between us is a living thing.
“Do you feel that?” she asks, her voice full of innocent wonder.
My short beard brushes the soft, sweetly fragrant skin of her cheek.
“Yeah, I do.”
“I think it’s the air and the water. It’s so beautiful here,” she says softly. She drops her head on my shoulder. I glare down and her eyes are closed. A small smile pulls at her lips.
“I think it’s us,” I whisper in her ear and drag my lips to that dimple and drop a kiss on it. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you,” she replies with a drowsy smile, and I laugh dismissively. I step back and forth, my hand at her waist tightening to hold her flush against me.
The Rivals Page 10
