Fifteen
E phraim’s pressed black suit looks impeccable on him, complementing his salt-and-pepper hair and cutting eyes. If he’s any indication, both Alex and Draven will age well — but this knowledge does little to soften the blow of what he’s saying to me.
“You are aware of how to have sex, yes?”
Blinking, I force myself to breathe in and out before I answer. “Yes, Sir. I can’t tell you why it hasn’t taken yet, but it will.” I’ll make sure of it. “I’m sorry for the delay. Our wedding is three months away, so maybe it’s best that I’m not getting pregnant beforehand.”
“Oh?” he challenges, stepping forward. I won’t back up. “Why is that?”
“Because. If I start showing early, there will be rumors about why he married me. I’m just being pragmatic, Sir. It’ll be better if things are done the right way as much as possible.”
His eyes darken in that way I hate, the way that spells trouble. Danger. The end of things as I know it. “I decide what the right way is, Miss Harbough. Don’t forget that. I may be old, but I’m not oblivious to the things around me. If you can’t get my son to forgo that fucking gardener and give me heirs I can do something with—” he looks me up and down, upper lip curled into a snarl — “Well let’s just say things will be very bad for both of you.”
“Sir—”
“Now, I have some appreciation for the fact that your father is the chief, but... even he understands that accidents happen,” he continues, cutting me off and adopting the kind of air of superiority that only someone like Ephraim Creed can pull off. “You don’t want there to be any accidents, do you? For you, or the gardener you’re both trying so desperately to protect?”
My heart races wildly as I scramble for an answer. I didn’t know he knew. No one did. So that’s why he brought me here, then. Me, specifically, instead of someone else borne of solid stock who could’ve made his son a fine match. He needed the type of woman who could make a man betray his heart. He needed a trained whore, a perfect little pawn, and he knows now that I’m failing. “I’ll do better,” I promise. “I’ve almost got him. I’ll do better.”
“Yes, and that starts tonight. You speak of the rumors that will spread if your belly grows before your wedding, but I’m more concerned with the rumors spreading now. They know you don’t love him, Miss Harbough. They know he doesn’t love you. I suggest you do a better job of convincing them — convincing me — otherwise.”
I choke on the “Yes, Sir” that comes out.
“Good. Now hold my arm and escort me to my wife’s birthday party. Guests are already arriving and I want to see her face when she realizes I set this all up.”
My hand is clammy as I grip his bicep and try not to trip on my heels. My dark hair falls in loose waves, cascading down over a glittery silver dress that makes me feel almost ethereal. I was excited for tonight, I was. My Keepers are coming. The stunning and dangerous Daddy will be here too, with all of her girls that I miss so much.
And Draven, too. Despite the phone he gave me blowing up over the last two weeks, I still haven’t given him an answer. I was looking forward to what he’d do to me for making him wait, but now I can’t see past the end of the toasts. I won’t be able to leave Alexander’s side to talk to anyone, much less the bastard I’ve been craving.
I have to sell this. My life depends on it.
And so, it seems, does Morella’s.
While I hold no love for the girl myself, I’m not a monster. If it’s in my power to protect her in this, I will. Despite everything, despite the fact that she’s ready to throw me away, I’ll protect her. My humanity is the one thing I will never let a man, especially one like Ephraim, take away from me.
So as the doors to the ballroom on the third floor open, I plaster on a smile and wave as politely and sincerely as I can to those who greet us. I spot Alex at a table near the other end of the room and excuse myself from Ephraim. He looks every bit the stoic, responsible son with his fitted suit and slicked hair, so I take the opportunity to fuck his night up the second I get there.
“He knows about Morella,” I sing-song into his ear as I reach up to hug him. “If you don’t act like I’m your future wife tonight, she’s dead. Do you love her enough to fake it for one evening?”
His face is pale as he leans back and takes my hand, nodding once. “Sit with me. We’ll talk after, but for now, yes. Let’s pretend.”
The next two hours are full of Verna’s blabbering, fake crying, and exclamations of surprise. Now that is pretend. There’s no way she didn’t know this was being planned in her own house, by her own staff, on her birthday when there were seemingly no other plans. If she didn’t, she’s stupid. And Verna Creed is anything but stupid.
I do my part to laugh at Alex’s dry jokes, lean in close to him, and act like a smitten little teenager right up until I see Draven walk in. He’s obnoxiously late, as always, but holy hell does he look good. I’m so used to seeing him in black jeans even when the rest of the family is dressed to the nines that seeing him like this — dark dress pants, black dress shirt unbuttoned a quarter of the way down and an open black suit jacket — makes my fucking thighs clench.
When his blue eyes meet mine, I forget Alex is there at all. Especially when he offers me a smile.
“Jesus,” Alex whispers under his breath. “I just saw your legs clench together at the sight of him.”
“That should make you feel better,” I hiss. “Since he’s the one who has to save all of us.”
“I’m sure it’s such a sacrifice for him.” He huffs under his breath. “This is a fucking mess. All of this relies on that flirty little shit. Doesn’t that worry you? Look at him. He showed up drunk.”
I swear, I have the strangest urge to slam Alex’s head into his gold-lined dinner plate, but I plaster on another smile instead. “Better than the guy who refuses to even try. He’s willing to risk himself and live his life knowing he can’t raise his own kids just to protect you, and you’re looking down at him? Seriously?”
“I guess he hasn’t let you down yet, but just be warned. He’ll fuck this up somehow.”
Draven strolls over to our table before I can respond, his relaxed gait proving Alex’s point on the fact that he isn’t sober, but when he speaks to us both clearly I decide not to worry about it. I have enough on my plate anyway.
“Hey, big brother. Your wife looks downright edible in this goddamn dress. How the fuck do you keep your hands off of her?”
“It’s hard,” he laughs through semi-gritted teeth. “But if you think she looks beautiful tonight, just wait a few months. She’ll be stunning the day she marries me.”
The smugness in his voice makes me want to hit him, but Dray snorts a laugh at him and turns to face me. “The Creed name will suit you well.”
He reaches out to take my hand, placing a kiss upon it without breaking eye contact. It sends a ripple of heat through me slowly, steadily, until my cheeks are tinted pink and I realize I’m squeezing his hand. I don’t want him to let go. “Stay,” I whisper. “Please.”
“He fucking can’t. Not unless you can stop looking at him the way you should be looking at me. Father’s watching.”
Alex is right. I can’t do this, not here.
I draw back quickly and stand up, throwing my napkin down to play it off like Dray said something insulting. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Making a show of stomping off, I don’t relax until I’m out in the hallway. The air is cooler here, fresher, but I’m not the only one out here.
“Theo?”
“Hey, shorty. Looking good.” He glances around us to see if we’re alone and then steps in. “You happy?”
No. I’m probably the furthest away from happy I’ve ever been, but I put myself in this situation when I said no to him. “I’m okay,” I say instead. “How are things? Did you guys get over me yet?”
“Now that’s impossible.” His gaze roams over my dress. “How could anyone get over you?”
His finger slides down my cheek affectionately, but his touch is ripped away before I realize it really happened. “She’s not fucking yours!” Draven growls, a familiar snapping noise filling in the air around us, and then he’s grabbing my face with both hands to look me over. “You okay? He touched you.”
What?
What just —
Oh god.
Stepping back, my eyes drop to the floor and I meet Theo’s unseeing, blank gaze. Theo. My favorite Keeper, the one I’d have said yes to if it were just him.
“Why?” I ask softly, voice broken and throat dry. “He just wanted to know I was happy.”
“He touched you,” he repeats. “He touched you, and you looked sad. Like you wanted to run away.”
“What the hell happened here?” one of the security guards hisses, his head shaking at Draven like this isn’t the first time he’s had to clean up after him.
“He touched Alex’s betrothed. I only did what he would have done if he was here to see it himself.” It’s not true, and again the man looks at him in a way that says he knows it. “I did what had to be done, Marcellus.”
“I’ll clean it up and notify the Provost.”
Draven takes my arm and drags me away, my feet tripping over themselves so much I’d fall if he didn’t have such a firm grip on me, and before I know it I’m in a dark corner with him crowding my space. “No one is allowed to touch you now, Sullivan. No one but me.”
His hand squeezes my hip possessively, and I realize that as much as I cared for Theo, he had limits. Things he wouldn’t do for me, to protect me.
The bastard son of Ephraim Creed has no such limits.
“You’re gonna get in trouble,” I whisper. “He was a Keeper.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” One look into his blue eyes tells me he means it with all of him. “The Keepers are as replaceable as I am. You, on the other hand... are not. I’ll kill them all if I have to, little keeper. You belong to me now.”
His mouth crashes to mine, and suddenly, I don’t care where we are, what people will say, or what Ephraim will do. This feels good. Like something clicking into place that hasn’t fit right for years.
My tongue slips into his mouth as I fumble with his belt, his erection straining against his slacks as he ruts against me, growling into my mouth.
“Wait.” He pulls back, pressing his forehead against mine. “I’m not getting interrupted when I have you the first time. Not here. You want it, little keeper, come to my party tonight.”
I guess this is karma. I made him wait months, he thinks he can make me wait a couple of hours. “I hate you,” I whisper, pulling him into another kiss just to feel his lips one more time. “You’re... you’re insane.”
“I know,” he mumbles against my mouth, his hands lifting my dress slightly as he kisses me even deeper, but he yanks himself away with a grunt. “Say you’ll be there.”
Shaking my head, I curl my hair behind my ear and fix my dress. “I—I have to get back in there. I’ve already been gone too long, and your dad made it really clear earlier that I have to convince him I’m trying. I’ll see you, Dray.”
With a heavy heart and shaking legs, I skirt around him and head back into the ballroom.
This night is far from over.