9. Elijah
My gaze shifts to the empty space beside me, the sheets still bearing the imprint of her delicate form, leaving nothing but a lingering trace of her intoxicating scent on the pillowcase. She looked peaceful and every bit mine, with her hair tousled from our night together.
I stretch out across the massive bed, relishing the pleasant soreness in my muscles. Evidence of a night well spent.
Last night was surprising, to say the least. I hadn’t expected her to be so bold, so uninhibited. The way she responded to my touch and commands, gasped my name... was exhilarating.
She’s a wildfire in bed, but her inhibitions run deep. I’ll need to fan the flames slowly, stoking her desire while calming her doubts. Moreover, what is the reason for her doubts? In one moment, she’s bold and confident, and in the next, she’s unsure and shy.
Too hurt, huh?
What kind of bastard must her ex-husband be to drive such a confident woman into self-doubt?
So much so that she feels the need to run away. Twice.
Like she intended to right after I thoroughly fucked her. I thought about letting her go, but I didn’t want to. Instead, I wanted to cuddle up with her in bed and wake up next to her. In normal circumstances, I would’ve gotten a hotel room and had my fun there, but the second she shimmied up against me, asking me if I wanted her, something snapped.
That’s a first for me, and yet she still runs.
I’ll have to convince her not to do that anymore.
Throwing back the covers, I move my legs off the bed. With a groan, I push myself to my feet and pad towards the kitchen.
My phone buzzes with a new message. It’s from the receptionist. She gave Gemma my message to meet for dinner tonight.
Perfect. Candlelight and fine wine will soften her resistance.
In the kitchen, I grind dark roast coffee beans and set up the French press for my daily morning coffee, glancing out the wall of windows at the city below.
I stifle a laugh, imagining her expression when the receptionist calls me her husband. The confusion, the surprise, the hint of intrigue, it would have been a sight to behold.
I pull out my phone and shoot a quick text to Connor.
Elijah: Who was the blonde with your girl last night?
Connor: You didn’t.
Elijah: Didn’t what?
Connor: Did you fuck her?
Elijah: None of your concern. You got her number?
Connor: You might wanna think twice about this one.
Elijah: Since when do you question my moves? Tell me. What’s her deal?
Connor: Alright, alright. Didn’t realize you were into fucking your best friend’s little sister. That’s cold, even for you.
I pause, taking in this new information. She’s Bash’s sister? Well, isn’t that an interesting development?
Elijah: Tell me about her.
Connor: Gemma Barron, 28 years old. Just moved back here. She worked in the fashion industry but stopped working shortly after marrying. Now, fresh off a nasty divorce. Real sweet girl, from what I know. Not your usual type.
Elijah: Perhaps I need something different. The usual types are getting old. What’s her number?
Connor: You’re serious about this? Don’t say I didn’t warn you when Bash finds out you’re banging his baby sis.
Elijah: Bash doesn’t control who I sleep with. Now, are you going to give me her number or not?
Connor: Fine. But when this explodes in your face, remember, I objected.
Elijah: Just do it. Bash doesn’t need to know anything for now.
A few seconds later, Gemma’s contact details appear.
Elijah: Appreciate you, cuz.
Connor: Be careful, Eli. You know how protective Bash is of her.
Elijah: Please, I can handle Bash. I know he’ll be happy to have me as his brother-in-law.
Connor: Yeah, yeah. If you need any other intel on your new conquest, don’t ask me, and try not to corrupt Bash’s innocent little sister completely.
Elijah: You seem to be in a bad mood.
Connor: You think?
Elijah: Didn’t go well with your little obsession?
Connor: Fuck you.
Elijah: You have something good, so tell me how I can help you.
Connor: Later.
I place my phone down. Bash’s little sister. That does complicate things. Bash might be pissed when he finds out. He’s one of my best friends, but that won’t stop me from getting what I want. I always get what I want, and right now, I want her.
And I have a feeling innocent little Gemma will turn out to be full of surprises. Her passion rivals my own. I need to draw it out again. And when I’m through with her, she’ll never want to leave again.
Downing the last of my coffee, I rise from my chair. Time to get some work done before meeting my future wife tonight.
With the date approaching, I rifle through my closet, selecting a charcoal gray suit for tonight. A crisp white shirt and deep burgundy tie. With a last glance in the mirror, I straighten my jacket and head out the door.
At the restaurant, a waiter leads me to the table I reserved.
“Right this way, Mr. Milton.”
Glancing at my watch, I settle into my seat, waiting for my gem.
Minutes tick by, and still no sign of her. My fingers drum on the table. Where is she? I could go to her apartment, throw her over my shoulder, bring her here, and have our date.
As I’m about to stand, a figure drops into the chair beside me. Esther Whitman, clad in a slinky black dress.
“Elijah.” She rests a hand on my arm. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Esther. I’m waiting for someone.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure they won’t mind.”
She won’t budge. I resist the urge to wrench my arm away. The faster we get this over with, the better. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”
”Don”t be like that.” Her ruby-red lips curve into a coy smile as she leans closer, her fingers trailing along my arm. “I’m here for you, of course. Have you given any more thought to our… arrangement?”
“You mean the sham of an engagement you proposed? I thought I made my opinion clear.”
Esther’s expression sours, her awfully manicured nails digging into my sleeve. “Don’t be foolish, Elijah. I know your father wants this. All you have to do is play along.”
“You never quit, do you?”
“You’ll learn to love me in time.”
“Not interested.”
“This isn’t a joke. We’re perfect for each other.”
I pry her hand off my arm, my tone turning serious. “Listen, Esther. I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again. There is no engagement. There never was, and there never will be.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I stop her.
“I’m not interested in your games or your schemes. I only indulged because my father values yours. So get the fuck off my back.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
I wear a cordial mask, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “The only mistake I made was entertaining this conversation for so—”
A deafening crash erupts from the entrance. My head whips around, scanning for the source of the commotion.
Two waiters scramble to clean up what appears to be shattered dishware, bowing profusely as they frantically pick up the pieces.
Exhaling through my nose, I turn my attention back to Esther. Leaning in close again, I lower my voice to a menacing growl. “You heard me. Don’t test my patience, Esther. I suggest you leave now before this gets unpleasant.”
She huffs out an indignant breath. “This isn’t over.”
I wave a dismissive hand. “I’m sure it isn’t. But for now, do us both a favor and get the hell out of my sight.”
Esther’s lips purse, her carefully crafted composure slipping. She wants to slap me. I dare her to try.
“Goodbye, Esther.”
With an indignant huff, she snatches her clutch and storms away.
I watch her disappear through the front door. Good fucking riddance.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes for a moment as I regain my composure. I let out a slow exhale, my shoulders relaxing slightly now that she’s gone.
Now, where is my little gem? I check my watch again, the flicker of annoyance returning. Making me wait is one thing, but if she stands me up, there will be consequences.