by K. I. Lynn
“Give the guy a break,” she huffed.
I quirked a brow at her. “Do I look as though I’m about to spit fire at him?”
“He’s scared enough of you as it is.”
Good.
“That is his problem, not mine.”
“You could try smiling at him.”
“If I expose my teeth, he may believe I’m threatening him.”
She coughed on her bite, attempting not to laugh but failing utterly. “Maybe, but scowling at him constantly isn’t doing any good.”
“He’s not up to my standards.”
“Nobody is.”
“You were.”
She looked up from her plate, and when our eyes met, all I wanted was to close the space between us and press my lips to hers.
“And now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The tension in the air heightened, and I kept glancing between her lips and her eyes that were drawing me in.
“Now I find I may be below your standards.”
“Not possible.”
“How so?”
“Because there is no man that has ever come close to you.”
A confession. A validation that I wasn’t the only one being pulled in more and more with each day.
In a fraction of a second, I held her head in my hands as my lips crashed to hers. The table clattered, drinks spilled, and glass broke as she fell down to the booth, taking me with her, but I only cared about the woman whose tongue was caressing mine while soft mewls vibrated beneath my hands.
A tug on my back pulled me closer to her. A groan left me as I palmed her bare thigh, the overwhelming need to taste her, to have her, taking over my senses.
“How is every—” a voice called, and I snapped my gaze over to the curtain, scowling at the girl standing there.
“Out!” I snarled.
Ophelia’s slight fingers brushed against my jaw, drawing my attention back to her. Delicious pink painted her skin, her eyes dark and lips swollen, and I wanted nothing more than to rip our clothes off and take her right there.
“Our lunch is getting cold,” was all she said in response, lips brushing against mine. The interruption wasn’t enough to tamp down the fire that burned brightly between us.
“I could give you a trial run today as my personal cock warmer. As soon as we’re done with lunch.”
She bit down on her lip, stifling a small moan, but I heard it nonetheless. “No sex.”
A groan left me, and I pressed my lips softly to hers. “Yes, my dear.”
Making it through the remainder of lunch was going to be difficult with a stiff dick and a woman who continued to tease me in unexpected ways.
It was amazing the amount of “friends” that came crawling out of the woodwork with the announcement that you were marrying the country’s most eligible bachelor—a statistic I didn’t even know about until the announcement came out.
My social media, which I’d blanched and scrubbed the hell out of weeks before the announcement came out, was awash with notifications. People I hadn’t had contact with in years except for social media exchanges—which I didn’t consider contact, really—had been bombarding my social media.
The one good thing was that they didn’t have my new number, which some of them noted as they’d tried to call, but it had been so long since we’d hung out or really talked, I felt like it was a feeler post. Like they were throwing out a line to see if I’d take it.
What surprised me the most was when an unknown number called and I actually answered it almost on instinct, knowing the person on the other end was someone of importance. Probably because so few people had my new number.
“Hello?”
“Lia?”
I blinked as the voice was familiar, and the nickname… “Brooke?”
“And Andrea!” a high pitched voice called out.
A smile spread on my face, and I leaned back against my bed. “How are you calling me?” I asked. Last I knew, she was stomping around throwing a tantrum about how she asked for a phone for Christmas and didn’t get one. She was the only one in her class that didn’t have one.
“I used my part-time job to get a phone. Mom couldn’t say anything about it. So save the number, okay?”
“You got it. How are you? How’s school?” It had been so long since I’d gotten to talk to her that I cherished every word. Talking at their house was always stunted, careful not to say the wrong thing, always guarded.
“Lia, we miss you,” Andrea said with a whine. “Why don’t you visit anymore?”
“You know why,” Brooke hissed.
Did they know? Really know? Brooke was obviously in her teenage rebellious phase, but I also believed that gave her an insight she didn’t understand before. At least that was the vibe I got from her phone comment.
“What did Mom say?” I asked, the curiosity too great to withstand.
“She just says you’re busy. When I asked why you never call, she said ‘why would she want to talk to her two bratty sisters?’”
My stomach sank, and I pulled my legs up against my chest. Such a horrible mother. “You know that’s a lie, right?”
“Of course!” Brooke cried. “If it were the truth, you wouldn’t still give us gifts and hugs and smiles and come to school functions, though it’s been a while on that.”
“I’m sorry about that.” I hated that their own parents didn’t attend recitals and events, and went when I could. “I started a job where I often worked late into the night, and getting any info from Mom was impossible.”
“Dad says it’s cause you don’t like us. That you’re an uptight, ungrateful… ummm…” Andrea trailed off before her voice dipped into a whisper. “B-word.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I grumbled.
“Lia, when can we come see you?” Andrea asked in that pitiful tone. She was fourteen and still sounded like she was eight half the time. I’d long wondered if it was a defense mechanism.
“Why do you want to see where I live?” I asked. Their response would be a huge tell, because as happy as I was to hear from them, I still doubted their intent.
“Mom says you probably live at the top of a tower like a princess,” Andrea squealed.
She may have been a teenager, but she’d never outgrown her princess obsession.
“It’s not that kinda tower, Dee,” Brooke said with an exasperated sigh.
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s a condo, not a castle,” Brooke argued. “Anyway, yeah, Mom said you were living in a tower in Manhattan. She and Dad…”
“What?” I prodded her to continue.
“They keep saying bad things about you, Lia.”
“Do you believe them?”
“No,” Brooke said with more confidence than I expected. “You’ve always been nice, and I know Dad has never been nice to you.” Maybe Brooke really was coming into her own and seeing things as they were.
“Mom said you don’t come around anymore because you don’t want to see us,” Andrea said, her sad little tone breaking my heart. We’d come back around to this, which made me realize how much my absence had hurt my little sisters, even though I hadn’t lived with them in nearly a decade.
“It’s not that, little Dee.”
“It’s Dad,” Brooke said, a bit of venom lacing her tone. “He’s a stupid drunk. I hate living with him.”
“Ssh! Don’t say that. What if he hears you?” Andrea said with a whimper.
Fuck, was he hitting them now, too?
“Why do you say it like that?”
“He gets mad and yells really, really loud.”
“Does he hurt you?”
“Yes,” Brooke growled, but then her voice broke. “He’s so much bigger and stronger.”
“What does he do?”
“He grabbed Dee the other day and threw her against the wall. There are bruises on her arm and a knot on her forehead.”
My fists clenched, and my anger
fought against the tears that threatened to fall. “You shouldn’t have to stay with him.”
“Can we come live with you?”
My chest clenched. I had to tell Atticus. There was no way they could stay there, and I knew he’d be able to help them. Things between us were not stable enough to add two teenage girls, but maybe they could stay with Aunt Stacey, Mom’s sister. She was always sweet and loving, and I knew she’d fought for us before.
Somehow, some way, I was getting them out of there and into a loving environment. They were innocents who deserved more. No matter what, they were going to be safe.
“I’ll get you out of there.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know how or when or where, but I’ll get you somewhere safe.”
“Anywhere is better than here,” Brooke whispered, and I could hear her break out into a sob. She’d been showing such strength for Andrea, but the hope of being free broke her resolve.
I could hear Andrea in the background. “It’s okay, sissy. Lia’s gonna make it better, see? I told you. Lia will help.”
What had he done to Brooke to make her break down like that?
“Text or call whenever you need something, but make sure to erase the messages so he doesn’t see, okay? Hold tight. I love you both.”
“Love you, Lia.”
“Stay strong.”
My hands were shaking as I hung up. Guilt wrecked me. I’d fled, leaving them alone with that monster. All of her daughters had suffered at her husband’s hands, even his blood daughters, and yet our mother did nothing.
Once again, I was ecstatic that I didn’t take after her.
Letting out a shaky breath helped to steady me, and my fingers flew across the screen.
Ophelia: I need my sisters away from Lou. Now.
I closed my eyes and wondered if we couldn’t bring them here. What would he think of that?
Atticus: Done.
I blinked down at the screen. For one thing, I didn’t expect such a prompt reply, as busy as he was, and I also wasn’t expecting such a blanket response. It was similar to when I said Lou wanted a hundred grand.
Ophelia: That’s it? You don’t want to know why?
Atticus: If your concern is so great you use the word now as a single sentence, that tells me all I need to know.
Ophelia: Thank you.
I’d just hit send when the phone rang.
“H-hello?”
“This is too much to type,” Atticus’s voice hummed across the line. There was someone talking in the background, but I couldn’t make it out. “Until the business with Lou Milner is settled, I’ll have them sent to your aunt. We’ve already been in contact with her, and she is prepared for whatever is necessary.”
“What do you mean, you’ve contacted her?”
“After he threatened you, I started preparations to remove your sisters.”
“You did?” Tears welled in my eyes, and I covered my mouth to hold my sob in.
“That man will only get what he deserves from you and me and nothing more. CPS will remove them by tomorrow night, and Lou and Amy will have no knowledge of their whereabouts.”
“But Stacey is in New Haven.”
“Do not worry. I’ll be home in a few hours. We’ll talk more then.”
I nodded, not that he could see. “Okay. See you when you get here.”
However, I couldn’t do as he asked, and I’d worried my thumb nails down to the quick. The sound of the door and footsteps against the hardwoods had my gaze snapping to the doorway of the family room where I’d moved hours before.
Atticus’s broad chest and perfect posture, along with his always standoffish demeanor, crossed the threshold into the room. The second his eyes met mine, I leapt from the couch and ran to him. I stopped in front of him, my hopeful gaze trained on him.
I blinked at the feel of his fingers brushing lightly across my jaw, tickling my neck and sending a shiver through me. He tilted his head as he observed me.
“You seem expectant.”
I swallowed and nodded. “I’m worried.”
“Hmm.” He straightened, his warm touch leaving me. “Didn’t I tell you not to worry?”
“How can I not? He’s hurting them.”
“Not anymore.”
I flicked my gaze between his eyes. “You mean…”
“They were pulled from the house thirty minutes ago and are on their way to New Haven.”
Without thought or reservation, I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Thank you!” I cried. Tears streamed down my face, and I choked back a sob.
His arms wrapped around my waist as he held me tightly against him.
“I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” he said as he rubbed his hand up and down my back.
The wicked king was taking his anger out on Lou, but there was another side to him. The side that would tear a man’s world apart to protect me. He’d set into motion so many things that I had no idea about. What else had he done?
What else had he prepared for?
Early Saturday afternoon, Jack called me down to the salon for my first event makeover. It was unnerving seeing the team of people in the salon waiting for me.
Penelope sat in one of the chairs, her large blue eyes meeting mine in her reflection.
“Hello,” she said as I sat in the chair next to her.
“Hi. Are you going to the event tonight?”
She nodded. “We all are.”
“All.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I tried to wrack my brain about the night’s fundraiser, and I couldn’t seem to reconcile water safety with something that would call all the de Loughreys out. I’d only glanced at the invitation and it was obvious I needed to learn more, because I was evidently wrong about something. Right?
I opened my mouth to ask something when someone grabbed my chin and started wiping something across my face. I blinked rapidly, realizing it was a facial cleansing cloth. Another person tugged at my hair, while a third held up different foundations against my skin, and even a fourth started on my nails. I was poked and prodded, different types of brushes flying everywhere. By the time I got my thoughts back, Penelope was gone.
After an hour, I was moved from my seat to the dressing room where I was stripped of my clothing and slipped into a dress Melanie had picked out. It had some weight to it, thanks to the overwhelming amount of sapphire sequins that adorned it.
The fabric draped over one shoulder with a cutout from the middle going from my shoulder to my cleavage. It wasn’t enough to show anything off, but a little tease of skin and relief from the abundance of sequins. At the top, the fabric from the back slipped through the cutout and knotted at the top, a sash of fabric falling past my waist that gave it a very Grecian look. A thigh-high slit topped off the look and gave a subtle sexiness.
Overall, it was a combination of elegance with a dash of modesty and sleek allure.
I stared at my reflection and the stranger that stared back. Maybe one day I would get used to it, but for now, I remained amazed.
My hair wasn’t in my usual style of straight or textured curls. It was voluminous and sleek. The makeup was stunning, even if I hardly recognized myself.
“For your first event, you need to be perfection,” Atticus said, startling me as he stared at me via the mirror. I turned toward him, and a small smile drew up on his lips. “And you have attained it. You look gorgeous, my dear.”
I took in his navy three-piece suit with a light blue tie. The colors made his eyes almost glow, and I was entranced by them.
I shook my head to clear my mind. “Damn suits are like lingerie,” I mumbled as I stepped away to pick up my clutch. It was an understated, flat-black color so as not to detract from The Rock.
He held out his arm, and I slipped mine in as we headed out.
“I heard the whole family will be there,” I said as Michael closed the door to the sedan. Another man I wasn’t familiar
with sat in the passenger seat.
“Yes.”
“For water safety?”
“It provides swimming lessons for hundreds of thousands of people across the world, and also teaches about safety when in larger bodies of water.”
Well, that made me understand a little more about why he pulled me away from the lake’s edge like he did. Also the insistence of swim lessons. But where did the passion come from?
“And this is a de Loughrey charity?”
He nodded. “Georgiana is one of the organizers.”
“So, I’ll meet her tonight?”
“Meet? Possibly. See? Definitely.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means she’ll be hitting up big donors that are outside the family, and will avoid us. Not out of spite, but that time is limited. She will give a speech, though.”
“But I’ll meet the twins at least, right?”
He closed his eyes and let out a breath. “Shhhh.”
I blinked at him, unsure of whether to be annoyed or not, but decided to drop it. I knew my constant questions grated on him and he’d probably hit his fill for the moment.
The rest of the drive was left in silence, giving my nerves time to ramp up. I’d never been to anything like what I was about to walk into, I was certain of that.
I blew out a deep breath when we pulled in front of the venue. People trickled by, everyone decked out like they were going to a wedding or grand ball. It reminded me of my senior prom, though Atticus was a much more attractive date than Jeff Russell.
I looped my arm into his as we made our way in.
“Spine straight, shoulders back,” he whispered into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
I nodded and adjusted my posture to match his.
My eyes were wide as I looked around at all the different shades of blue created by lights coupled with draped fabrics. There were tables set up everywhere with more of the beautiful blues coupled with silver and gold, a stage at one end, and a bar on the other.
A banner held large, bold letters—The Adrianna de Loughrey Foundation.
Adrianna? I wanted to ask Atticus who Adrianna was, because her name wasn’t familiar, but I knew his answer—read the folio.
