44. Oliver
OLIVER
The den’s empty, and I throw the lock behind Emily. “So, your friend’s nice.”
Her resulting blush has to reach her toes. I’d like to peel her clothes off and look.
“She seems to know a different side of you.” I take a step closer to her, longing to pull her into my arms. Her hand in the middle of my chest stops me from getting any closer.
“We can’t do anything. She’s going to find out. Does Esmeralda know?”
“She knows what color bra you’re wearing before you pick it out. Holloway too. But they’re loyal to Thayer. Your secret, our secret, is safe. No one but us will know what a vixen you are.” I tuck a strawberry tendril of her hair behind her ear.
“Oliver!”
“Em, are we back to the name game? I rather like it,” I say. Her arm drops, and I kiss her neck.
“Oliver.”
“Emily,” I moan into her ear.
“No, we can’t.” She steps back, a mask dropping into place.
“Right, so this marriage is real?” I raise my eyebrows at her. It’s not a real question. She might harbor some old feelings for Thayer, but she’s not tying herself to him forever.
“No, of course not.”
“Then I’m not backing up. Or out.”
Her sigh can surely be heard throughout the manor. The epic glare she gives me might scare off a smarter man. But my persistence is what’s paid off in my life. I pick her up and swing her over my shoulder and lower her to the sofa.
“I hear doing it on the sofa is expanding your horizons.” I cage her in. We’re both wearing a lot of clothes. Too many clothes.
She closes her eyes, and her soft hand grabs the back of my neck, bringing my lips to hers.
Our kisses linger, but I don’t take it to more than heavy kissing.
Emily’s friend knows a part of her, but I do too.
She’s stressed, and doing any more than kissing in the manor will send her into chaos.
I break the kiss and spin to standing before she can bring me back in.
“Oliver . . .”
“We’ve got a busy day of dress shopping tomorrow.”
“You’re coming?”
“Of course. I can’t trust your friend. She wasn’t willing to spill red wine on a Tom Ford shirt.”
“She’s trained in fashion. She has a design degree from FIT. If . . . if this were, you know . . .”
“Real?”
“Yes, and I had had more time, I’d have had her design my dress. It’s why she flew in early; she wanted to help with the dress. She gave me a long lecture when I told her I was going to buy something at a department store.”
“Ah, that makes more sense now.”
“What does?”
“With Thayer getting the rest done . . . it didn’t seem like you to drag your feet on getting a dress.”
Her feet hit the floor, and she smooths her hair down. “Did you think I wasn’t going to go through with it?”
I shrug. I’m not a shrugger, but I seem to be doing a lot of it lately.
“It’s what has to happen to make the plan work.
In honesty? Of course no one wants to see the woman they’re obsessed with walking down the aisle to another man.
” We lock eyes, and my chest heaves. “Right, well I’ll see you in the morning. ”
“You’re sure? We’re going to have to go to a lot of places.”
“I understand. Good night, Emily.” I flip the lock to the door and head to my room. Phone in hand, I check my messages from the Castoria royal guard. There’s been no progress in finding the shooter. And they’re not sure Sutton was the target. Neither am I.
I stop on the fourth step and make my way back to Holloway’s surveillance room. Dakota answers my knock. “Where’s your boss? I need to ask him a favor.”
“Prince Charming!” Lilith calls from down the hall. “We’re ready.”
I step out of the den and stand in front of the ballroom door, my hands behind my back. “I’ll get Emily. And Lilith?”
“Yup?” She blows her fringe off her forehead.
“Don’t ever call me that again,” I say, my jaw tight.
“Got it, Prince not-Charming. And you do know that Emily is about to get married to your friend, right?”
I glare at her.
“Maybe stop looking at her like . . .” Lilith steps closer and whispers, “Like you want to fuck her. And oh yeah, see if you can find a fucking sense of humor under your crown, okay? I’m glad we had this little chat.
Let me know when your best friend’s bride is on her way.
Cool?” She pivots on her toes and heads back into the ballroom.
I do have a sense of humor, and I also have a carbon copy of Lilith back in Castoria—Rosalind Sloane Georgette Arianna, the middle child of the Whitehall family.
Sloane gives the sass even harder than Lilith.
But Lilith has a point. If I want to continue things with Emily and keep up this ruse, I can’t walk around looking like I want to devour her.
I’m waiting at the bottom of the steps when Ryder and Emily come downstairs. I told him to keep her busy for an hour. And by the flush to her cheeks, I’m wishing I’d been the one to stall her.
“Incoming,” I yell down the hallway, Lilith-style.
“Incoming what?” Emily asks.
Another shrug from me.
And Emily’s forehead furrows. “Are you sure none of the shops are open until noon? I went online, and they said ten.”
“Lilith called them,” Ryder says.
“Okay,” Emily says with a nod.
Lilith steps out of the ballroom. “Welcome to the House of Sage. Our motto is brides in a flash,” she says. She’s wearing an apron from Callie’s Couture.
Ryder and I follow them into the ballroom.
“Oh, my God!” Emily shrieks.
And I have to admit, it might have been my idea, but Lilith and my sister have taken it to a whole new level.
Sutton might have done none of the physical work here at Havenwood Hall, but her team spent the night and early morning contacting every consignment shop in Southern England, while Holloway’s men have acted as couriers since the ass crack of dawn.
Lilith, Callie, Anders, and Ryder transformed the ballroom into a white cloud of secondhand dresses.
“How did you . . . ?” She wraps her arms around Lilith’s neck.
“I’d like to take all the credit, but it’s been a team effort, and it was the prince’s idea.
His sister has a team; we couldn’t have done it without their fairy godmother magic from afar.
And all the muscle. Your friends. Hunky Holloway’s guys.
Don’t get too excited; this is only the start of the work. ”
“Callie, thank you for coming. Who’s watching the shop?” Emily asks.
“I’m closed for the morning, love. Closed until we turn one or more of these into your dream dress.” She turns and fist-bumps Lilith.
“I don’t know what to say . . . I’m going to cry.” Emily’s blue eyes glisten.
“No crying. Your friends want you to have your fairytale day. And I’m happy to be one of your godmothers,” Callie says.
Emily squeezes Callie.
“No time for crying or hugging. We have work to do.” The silk screen from Emily’s room is brought in by Dakota. “Put it over there, by that empty rack,” Lilith orders.
I move to the sofa on the other side of the room. It’s the sofa from the den. The one that Anders ate her out on. The one I’ve fucked her on more than once. It’s going to be a long-ass day from the number of dresses in here, and I wanted to be comfortable.
Anders sits next to me; Ryder takes one of the chairs that normally line the ballroom wall. It groans under his weight.
“Move over.” Ryder slaps the side of my leg, and we scrunch together.
“You’re staying?” Emily’s lips thin.
“Of course.” Anders leans back, resting his arm on the arm of the sofa. “When my sister married the asshole, all her friends and my aunts went with her to give their opinions.”
“We’re your friends,” Ryder says with a cheeriness in his voice.
“And we have opinions,” I add.
“We’ll have nothing from the mosh pit unless we ask,” Lilith states, pointing her finger at the trio of us.
In unison, the three of us mime zipping our mouths and tossing the key away.
Lilith divides her stare between Emily and the three of us on the sofa before she shakes her head. “Let’s get this show on the road. Callie and I have pulled some favorites. But maybe you want to pull your own first?”
Anders coughs, a pointed cough.
“Are you okay, Anders?” Emily asks.
“I’m good.” His eyes are wide. I’m not the only one wary of Drill Sergeant Lilith.
But Emily’s locked in on Anders. “There are so many lovely things here. Let me get my bearings.”
When the trio of women are deep in a rack on the other side of the room, I turn to Anders. “What?” I ask.
“Callie and Lilith might be trained in fashion, but they have no idea what Emily likes. Their favorites are not her,” Anders says.
“Right.”
Twenty minutes later, the three of us have our heads in our phones when Lilith clears her throat.
“What do you think?” Emily asks. She’s standing on the round tailor’s platform Callie brought, in an off-white dress.
Black clamps stick out of her back as she turns.
It’s a pretty dress, but it’s not Emily.
There’s too much lace, beads—too much of everything.
“You look beautiful,” Ryder says with an undertone that he needs to cut out.
“I like it,” Anders says with a smile. He shifts in his seat.
“It’s pretty; you look nice. But it’s not the one,” I growl. “There are other options.”
“I know, right? I thought this was what I wanted. It’s the one Lil likes the most. But it’s not it.” Emily drops her hands to her sides.
“It could be.” Lilith kneels at the hem. “We could cut it here and—” She looks up, her eyes catching Emily’s. “Nope, next.”
Em and the women disappear behind the screen.
I pick up the pillows Ryder threw on the ground when he sat down. “Here, put these on your laps. Get it together,” I whisper to both of them.
“You too, stop being so possessive,” Anders whispers back.
The next one’s off-color, followed by too fluffy, too tight, too short, too much. They all look great on her, but none of them are the right one.
Anders has taken his pillow and slid onto the floor. Ryder’s on the sofa, and I’m pacing behind it. The Castoria guard is sending me updates. Or rather, dead end leads. It’s all so frustrating. But all the more important that we have Emily stay here.
“Wakey, wakey,” Lilith sings.
And I drop my phone onto the sofa in front of me.
“Holy shit,” Anders says, popping to his feet. Ryder’s right behind him.
A low-cut neckline shows off her breasts.
It’s not too low, just the right amount of skin.
It’s tight under her breasts before it flows away from her body.
Lose enough so that no one will suggest she couldn’t be pregnant.
There’s a train, but it’s not crazy long. There’s some beading but not too much.
“That’s whoa,” Ryder says, nodding like his head could fall off.
And I get it—I want to drool as well. I want to sweep her into my arms to stop the hammering of my heart slamming me into the floor.
“It’s pretty.” There’s a glow around Emily as she says it. She doesn’t mean pretty; she means perfect. Dream-worthy.
“It’s the best one yet.” Lilith grabs at the back fabric. “The sleeves are hitting in the wrong spot. I’m not sure I like them.”
“We could take the sleeves from the fifth dress and add them to this one. It’s the same designer and fabric. With some . . .”
I stop listening to Callie and Lilith go on about the dress, because Emily’s smiling at me, and the rest of the world fades away.
“It’s perfect.” But what I’m really saying is, You’re perfect. I want you. Don’t let him have you. Run away with me.
Ryder smacks my back. “Time for lunch. Let’s go.”