by K. I. Lynn
There was so much in my closet, but I finally located an odd but pretty silk scarf wrap top in gold and blues that looked kind of like a halter but wasn’t, some Versace pleated shorts, and my strappy Louboutins.
The designers names were something I never thought I would own, let alone feel comfortable enough going into a store to browse, knowing full well I couldn’t buy anything. Even with everything, it was nice to be pampered.
And have someone coordinate your outfits, because there was no way I was up to the task. Some of the stuff Melanie brought was so out there and baggy in design that I couldn’t believe it was considered fashionable. In the end none of them stayed, thankfully, because she said they didn’t meet the image someone in my position needed.
At the time, I didn’t understand what she meant, but I began to learn. I learned more about fashion and designers. Since I didn’t go out much, I would create outfits with occasions in mind.
Once dressed and ready, I headed down to the lobby. Atticus had a new sim card created for my phone, glaring at me the whole time it was replaced, which was necessary to navigate the overly teched-out building.
When I arrived in the lobby, there was an immediate, rigid response from the concierge and security. I blinked over at them, an oppressive aura that seemed to be made up of fear and worry emanated from them.
“Good morning, Miss Evans. Shall I call Michael for you?” Amy asked, giving me a forced smile.
I gave her a small nod. “Thank you.”
My response sent a wave of relief through her, and her smile brightened considerably.
When the sedan pulled up to the pickup location, Michael got out and held open the door for me.
“Thank you,” I said as I slid into the back seat.
Even his demeanor was strained, not relaxed like usual. “We will be stopping to pick up Mr. de Loughrey today.”
I nodded. “Is everything all right?”
“Shouldn’t it be?”
“Everyone seems weird today.”
“Perhaps it’s because you ran away from Atticus de Loughrey.” His steely eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “He is normally friendly even in his curt attitude, but you released his dark side on the staff.”
My mouth dropped open. When I left, it was for my own selfish reasons. I didn’t really grasp what he’d said that morning—my actions have consequences for those around me.
“I’m sorry.”
He let out a sigh. “I’m the only one that saw where you came from. The change has had to be difficult for you, so I understand why you left after that night.”
“How can I make it up to everyone?” I asked. The guilt of having his rage directed at all the different employees didn’t sit well.
“Don’t leave him again.”
I nodded before turning to stare out the window. A few minutes later, the car slowed to a stop. The door clicked open, and I watched as Atticus slid into the seat beside me. He froze before he could close the door, his eyes glued to my legs.
Heat from his gaze licked at my skin as he moved up to my shorts, then shirt, then meeting my eyes. Something deep and deliciously dark burned inside him, and I found it affecting me in an unexpected way. My nipples tightened and my thighs clenched, rubbing against each other.
I didn’t even notice the slamming of the door or the acceleration of the car. He’d ensnared me, trapped me in an overpowering confusion of lust. I drew in a sharp breath when his hand rested against my thigh, his fingers drawing lazy circles.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, his tone deeper than normal. Between that and his overpowering presence, I felt overwhelmed by him.
“Shorts?”
“Hmm,” was his only response.
My mind was completely focused on the light touches. I wasn’t used to it, used to that level of affection, especially not from him.
The car once again slowed to a stop, and I blinked at the familiar building in front of us.
“Why are we here?” I asked as we got out of the car.
Atticus held out his hand, waiting for mine. “Because I like the privacy. You should know that by now.” Once again, his eyes raked over me.
After all the gazes and whispers as we entered, I did understand to a degree.
As we sat waiting for our drinks from his new waitress, Allison, to arrive, we went over the menu, his hand once again landing on my thigh.
Warmth flooded my face. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Hmm? I can’t touch you?”
“You can, but, just…do you have to do it so intimately?”
“How would you prefer I touch you? Especially when dressed like that.” His hand left, and I blew out a breath. “It suits you, though, even if I believe it’s too short. Fashionable, but not overtly sexual.”
“You mean not like Gen.”
“I mean a dignified level of restraint while still being so alluring I am having difficulty refraining from feeling your skin beneath my fingers.”
Butterflies kicked up in a torrent in my stomach. I wasn’t used to this version of him. Had he been restraining himself the whole time?
Our confusing relationship only grew more and more confusing. Not friends, not lovers, not even an odd employee/employer affinity. What were we, besides engaged?
When I left, something snapped in Atticus. Well, maybe not snapped, but he definitely acknowledged something. His confession affected me as well. That, coupled with touches of genuine affection, and it was becoming harder and harder to resist him.
“Have you picked out a dress for this weekend?”
I blinked at him. “Dress?”
“For the charity gala.”
All the blood drained from my face. “A charity function with no notice?”
He froze, giving me the most frightening side eye that sent a shiver down my spine. “If you had checked the calendar Jack has set up, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
Oh, that. “What’s it for?”
“If you’d read the folio, you would have seen all the charities we are involved with. Most important are at the top.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you’d read the folio,” I mocked back at him, earning a glare that didn’t affect me the same way it used to. No, the heat flashing through my body was definitely new.
Even with his emerging softer side, he was still a hardheaded, overbearing ass at times.
“It is our first official event out in society as a couple,” he said as he cut into his steak.
“And?”
“And there are things you need to know. We need to come back from that debacle with Genevieve, therefore you will be on your best behavior.” His aggravation grew as he spoke, the level of his voice growing as well.
“Take that tone down a notch.” We’d spent the last few days without the wicked king coming out, and I intended to keep him away.
His jaw clenched, and he let out a growl of frustration. “It was a PR disaster, and it is your duty to change the public’s opinion of you. You will dress appropriately, and will present yourself with grace and elegance. You will be on my arm with your head held high and give them no reason to tear you down.”
“Yes, master.”
His fist slammed onto the table. “This is a serious matter, Ophelia.”
I blew out a breath. “I understand that, but put some warmth into your voice. You’re like a fucking robot sometimes. I thought we pushed through this crap.”
He ground his teeth together. “I’m trying, but you can’t expect me to literally change overnight. I am simply trying to convey—”
“How I will look and act at our first public function,” I said, cutting him off. “I get it. I won’t embarrass you. I will stand by your side like a good little prized pony, all primped and proper.” Anger coursed through me, hating that he felt he needed to talk down to me like I was a child.
He reached across the table and took my hand in his. “I don’t want to give them a reason to hurt you.”
&
nbsp; The sincerity in his tone completely deflated me. “See? Was that so hard?”
“Yes,” he said, but his lip twitched up and he let out a sigh as he relaxed back into his seat. “Be patient with me.”
I grabbed his thumb with my own. “Just keep admitting you were wrong and petting me, and we’ll be good.”
His lips pulled up into a grin, and I blanched at the sight of the hunter staring at his prey.
“Petting? Do I get to pet you now? I assure you, that will make me much more agreeable.”
Heat rose to my face, and I looked away. “You know, you tricked me with our contract,” I said, pulling our attention away from the flames that grew around us.
“Did I?”
I shook my head. “Don’t play stupid. You dangled ten million in my face and gave me only twenty-four hours to decide if it was worth it to marry you.”
“And have my child,” he added.
I tried to ignore the silky smooth and sinful undercurrent, but it was almost impossible when all of his attention was centered on me. Something about the way he said it made my thighs clench and squeeze together. He was completely unraveling me.
I cleared my throat. “That was shady. You knew I’d take it.”
He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.
“Out with it,” I said, prompting him to come clean. He hated when I did it, because he hated showing weakness, and somehow any affection toward me was a weakness?
His jaw jutted forward, and he looked to the ceiling before that dispassionate glare was aimed at me. “You have a wildness about you. It was something that attracted me to you. That aspect sprinkled doubt. If you hadn’t agreed, I didn’t know what to do, therefore I gave you whatever you wanted so you’d agree. But until your name was scrawled across the bottom, part of me believed you would turn me down.”
“You’re blaming your insecurity on me and twisted it to gain a deceitful hand?”
“Correct.”
I pulled back and crossed my arms in front of me. “Is this a tactic you use a lot?”
“Quite often.”
“The deceit?”
He let out a humming sound. “No. I do whatever is necessary to get what I want.”
“As long as it doesn’t involve emotions.”
“I’m not above making concessions, but I knew then that spending five years next to you, there would be nothing to tame my thirst for you. In order to keep our agreement and still be able to feel your thighs clenching around my hips as you shatter around me, alternative wording was created.”
“And those would be?”
He leaned forward, his lips drawing up into a smirk, the intensity in his gaze making me squirm in my seat. “It would be a waste to share them with you, since you have no intent to allow me to utilize them.”
I blinked at him.
He took my stunned silence as an opening to lean in and run his lips against the column of my neck.
“And you wouldn’t want me to utilize them, would you?”
Thankfully that was the moment Allison parted the curtain to take our order, though I could tell my face was flushed. At least it got him to back up before he touched me more.
In the end, he never did tell me what he did to Lou, and I think that was exactly what he wanted.
Of all the clothes in her closet, why did she have to choose something that would affect me so? I was behaving in a completely uncouth way.
I also needed to speak to Melanie about why she brought shorts that showed off nearly every inch of her flawless legs.
My attraction to her had never dwindled, and with the changes in our relationship, it had become even more difficult to keep my hands off her. Such as the situation I found myself in. My ability to rein my desire in had come loose. The wall of decorum was crumbling.
The new waitress, Allison, was growing on me. She was more competent than that worm, whatever his name was. Still, she was nowhere as good as Ophelia, and I regretted every day I came that I made her quit.
At the same time, I quite enjoyed having her sitting next to me in the half-circle booth, even if everything about her was driving me to distraction.
Her brow was knitted as she stared down at her glass of wine.
“What?” I asked, wondering what was amiss with her drink.
She blinked at me. “What, what?”
“You have a look on your face.”
“I was just thinking.”
“Expand, please.”
“De Loughrey Pharmaceuticals.”
I set my phone down and focused all of my attention on her. “Yes.”
“Did you know I worked for them?”
I gave her a slow nod. “Your resume was one of the many background check items.”
“Do you have to keep doing that?” she asked with a huff. I quirked a brow as I stared back at her. “I know you dug into me, but do you have to remind me that you dissected my life before you got to know me as a human being? Can we have a conversation where you don’t have to hammer that fact out yet again? If you know something, just agree.”
A harsh chuckle left me, and I nodded. “Forgive me, my dear. You are correct. I will do better.”
She straightened, though I did see her nose crinkle at the pet name I threw out. “Good.”
“De Loughrey Pharmaceuticals?”
“Oh, right.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle when she was reminded about what she was thinking about.
“Do you think I could work there again?”
I froze as I attempted to process her thought path that brought her to that point, and was once again thwarted. “Why would you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Something to do.”
“What about wedding planning?”
“Your mom has that covered, right?” she asked as she cut her steak. It was an odd choice for her, a divergence from her normal salmon addiction.
“You don’t want to give any input at all into our celebration?”
“Some, but…” She heaved a sigh.
“My mother is a very intense presence.”
“You all are. I have no clue what she’s already done, and I kinda feel like it’s a sham wedding and so what do I care?”
I drew in a sharp breath. “Sham?”
She rolled her eyes. “When I envisioned getting married, it was to a man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and who thought the world of me. Not some contract.”
My chest constricted at her description. Love and marriage did not always coincide in my family, therefore, I had difficulty imagining needing one for the other. I could admit that it wounded me hearing her talk about us in such a harsh manner. No, we weren’t some doe-eyed couple in love, but…
Five years wasn’t going to be enough for me. I wanted Ophelia in ways I’d never wanted anyone. She filled something missing inside me.
When she left me, I’d become a shell of a person again. A robot.
“Even if we don’t have that kind of relationship, it doesn’t mean the day can’t be special. Make it what you want. Whatever dream you have. Whatever dress you want. With regard to my mother, if you want your opinion heard, you need to state it loudly. Assert yourself, or she’ll walk all over you.”
She blinked at me, pink spreading across her cheeks before nodding. “Okay.” She returned her attention to her plate. “Grr, you distracted me. I want to work. I don’t want to be some rich housewife like on those shows. I’m not a socialite by any means.”
That wasn’t where I thought the conversation was going. “Good. I hate socialites.” I tolerated them. After growing up surrounded by them, Ophelia was a refreshing breeze. “What about when we have a baby?” I reminded her.
“I could stop then and reassess, but until then, I’m tired of being bored out of my mind around here. I want to work, use my degree. I know I don’t have a doctorate, and I refuse to be a rep again, but there must be something somewhere I can work within some de Loughre
y company. It doesn’t have to be in pharmaceuticals, just somewhere.”
I thought it over. In a way, I wanted to hold her up at the top of the tower forever, but I knew I couldn’t do that. I also knew what she was asking would not go the way she envisioned it.
“You will be judged. Whispered about.”
She pursed her lips. “I know. Trust me, I understand.”
“I’m not against it. The last thing I want is for you to be miserable.”
“Really?” She seemed surprised.
“Really.” However, I would be engaging in other avenues to pull her into. Perhaps calling Georgiana was in order.
“Wow. I thought you’d be against it.”
“Why would I be against it?” I asked. Had she seen through me?
“I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it during the contract phase, and I’ve spent the last few months in a de Loughrey crash course of what not to do, which is everything I’ve ever done in my life.”
“There is a position I know of.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded, my lips drawing up. She stiffened and narrowed her gaze at me.
“I’ve always wanted a personal cock warmer.”
Her head fell to the side with the most exaggerated eye roll I’d ever witnessed.
“How do you say no in Italian?”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
Her eyes sparkled, and I got lost in their warmth. Reaching out, I placed my hand on hers, my fingers wrapping around as I brushed my thumb across her knuckles. The light died down, but not in a bad way. My touch had replaced it with another emotion I quite enjoyed.
“I like this,” I said.
Her fingers squeezed mine. “Me, too.”
The waiter, whatever his name was, arrived and set our food down, disrupting our moment.
“Thank you, Drake,” Ophelia said, giving him a warm smile.
Where did Allison go? I hated the twerp.
As soon as the curtain closed, she reached over and pulled the broccolini from my plate, replacing it with her sautéed green beans.
“Don’t,” was all she said as she did it.
The dark marks on the green stems showed me what the issue was. They were heavily charred, and she knew I disliked that. “If it wasn’t correct, it should be fixed.”
