Chapter 22
Elodie
Did that just happen?
Did Dorian seriously behave that way with his cousin?
I blink, trying to make sense of it, but I know I didn’t imagine anything.
Dorian was sharp with Parker, then he dismissed him, grabbed my hand, and led me away. Now we’re moving to the other side of the yacht, and he’s walking so fast I can hardly keep up.
We weave through guests who smile at us, his grip steady around my hand as he pulls me along. Everyone is dressed in their finest, watching us with open curiosity. I smile back, trying to be polite.
Dorian doesn’t stop until we reach the rail. Only then does he turn to face me.
I raise my brows and look him over. “What was that about?”
He cocks his head. “What?”
“You were totally rude to your cousin.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Are you kidding?”
He shakes his head. “That’s how we always talk.”
Somehow, I don’t believe that’s true.
“In any event,” he adds, “I’d rather you didn’t speak to him.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why? He was really nice. And he’s from England.” I forgot Dorian had family there.
“Parker Vale is not nice, Elodie.” The disapproval in his tone is impossible to miss.
“He seemed nice to me.”
“That’s because you’re you.” He smirks. “Don’t be fooled by his charm. He’s an asshole.”
I’m tempted to disagree but think better of it. There are more important things to concern myself with. Parker isn’t one of them.
“Fine.” I sigh, gazing at him with renewed focus.
“Did you get here okay?” He swiftly changes the subject.
“Yes.” His driver brought me. I can’t remember the driver’s name. It was the older blond man who took me back to my apartment the other day when I was so distraught.
When I got in the car earlier, he almost looked relieved to see me looking so well. Even I know I look good tonight—better than I have in many years. The swelling in my face has gone down enough for me to do my makeup properly, and the dress helps, too.
I think of my Porsche and realize I haven’t seen Dorian long enough to thank him for it yet. “Thanks so much for my car. You got me a Porsche.”
Dorian waves it off. “It was nothing.”
“Did you see my old car?” I grin.
He throws me an incredulous look. “That thing was not a car.”
“Exactly.” A soft laugh falls from my lips. “How was L.A.?” I try for small talk again.
He gives me that stern expression, like that night in the attic. “It was fine,” he replies. Same answer.
I need to stop asking questions like that. It’s clear he’s not going to answer me like a normal person, and that’s, as he would say, fine.
“So, Albert gave me the rundown of what’s supposed to happen tonight with the press.” Better to move on to more pressing matters. “I think they’re already here. I saw a reporter on my way in.”
He glances toward the docks, then back at me. “That’s good. Just act naturally.”
I nod, even though my nerves spike.
I look around, my gaze drifting down the rows of people gathered with their flutes of champagne and easy laughter. Everything here is luxury taken to the extreme. And I’m on a yacht. I’ve never been on a yacht before.
When I was younger, my parents were always attending parties, most of them on yachts. I was either too young to go or not around. They were usually held in the summer, and I’d be away at camp. So, I have no idea how to act around these people.
“Hey, just act naturally,” Dorian repeats, his expression pensive but firm. He makes it sound as though acting naturally around New York’s high society is a breeze. Though I suppose it is for him.
I glance back at him, nerves tightening inside my chest. “Will the press ask me questions?”
“Not tonight.” His voice is calm, controlled. “They’re just here to observe. And we’ll pretend to turn a blind eye. They’ll see you as the mystery woman.”
Mystery woman. That’s a new one for me. But it fits.
And I suppose this is the start of the narrative he’ll be feeding them.
Taking a quick breath, I nod. “Okay. I can be the mystery woman.”
“Think of it this way.” A ruthless smile touches his lips. “It won’t be any worse than what you’ve been through so far.”
I groan. “Please don’t remind me.”
He’s right, though. This is nothing compared to the last few weeks. It doesn’t even come close.
“Come.” He extends his arm. “Let’s go see my family.”
“What do they know about me?” I ask quickly. “I mean, I know they already know me, but what exactly have you told them?”
The last time his brothers saw me, my face was black and blue.
It was clear I was in trouble. I’m also nervous about his father because I’m certain that Jeremiah Vale would have most assuredly preferred someone better for his son— someone polished, someone from his world, someone whose family didn’t go bankrupt.
“They know we’re getting engaged. That’s all they need to know.”
“That’s it?” I press.
“That’s it, Lamb. Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”
I take a breath and nod, but unease still settles inside my chest. He offers his arm, and I slip mine through it.
Dorian guides me forward, leading me down to the lower deck. There are more people down here. After a quick scan, I spot his brothers in the far corner talking with his sister. His parents are by the bar, laughing.
Dorian ushers me toward them first.
His father is the first to notice our approach. The moment his eyes land on me, my nerves scatter, but I steady myself with a breath. Jeremiah Vale smiles at me the way he used to when I was little, and I find myself returning his smile.
“Welcome,” he greets us both.
“Thank you,” I answer.
Louise beams at me, stepping forward with open arms, then she pulls me into a hug. “Look at you,” she gushes, holding me close before taking a step backward to look me over. “It’s been years.”
“I know. It’s been a very long time,” I say.
“You look absolutely beautiful.”
My smile widens. “Thanks. I did my best.”
“Oh goodness, girls like you don’t have to try, sweetheart.” Louise was always nice to me. What little I remember of Dorian’s mother, I’d rather forget. Louise felt like the angel sent to make up for her.
“You’re too kind.” I chuckle, glancing from Jeremiah to Louise. “It’s really great to see you both.”
“Likewise,” Jeremiah says. Reaching for my hand, he shakes it with both of his and holds on for a beat. “Welcome to the family, my dear. I hear congratulations will soon be in order.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
My cheeks warm. “Thank you.” I feel myself relax under his sincerity.
“Come, I’ll get you a drink,” Louise offers. “Then I’ll introduce you to the people you don’t know. You’re going to love Isla, Knox’s wife.”
“I’m sure I will.”
I glance back at Dorian again before she leads me away.
Louise gets me an exotic fruity cocktail and takes me over to a group of ladies who look like a bunch of dolls.
The willowy, pretty one with the cute baby bump and the same hair color as me is Isla, and Louise is right; I like her right off the bat.
She’s quirky, funny, and she’s an artist.
The moment she starts talking about her upcoming exhibition, I’m engrossed.
Time seems to glide by as the conversation shifts easily, drifting from one topic to the next, until it lands on babies. The other girls join in, comparing notes, setting loose timelines for when they might start having children.
“I’ve just passed the three-month mark,” Isla says excitedly. “I can’t wait to see what the rest of the time will be like.”
“Will you find out the baby’s gender?” I ask, genuinely curious. I’d definitely want to know when the time comes.
Isla shakes her head. “No. I want to, but Knox wants to be surprised. I guess I like the idea of that, too. We’ve made it into a little game, trying to guess. From there, we drift into baby names, then what we’d do if it’s a girl or boy.”
It must be nice to be so excited. I can’t help but wonder what I’ll be like. I don’t even know if I’ll have a smooth pregnancy. Since I’ve never been in a serious relationship, I never really thought about children much. I knew I wanted them. I just didn’t know when.
“You carry that bump so well,” Cindy, the tall dark-haired girl to my left, says. Her gaze is fixed on Isla’s stomach.
Isla smirks. “This is just the beginning. I’m sure I won’t look so good six months down the line.”
Everyone laughs.
“Especially with the way I’m eating. I can’t stop,” she adds.
They laugh again.
“How many do you want?” Cindy clasps her hands. “I don’t think I can manage more than one.”
Isla laughs softly, glancing down at her bump. “Knox and I want at least three. Maybe four. I’ve always wanted a big family.”
“Four?” Cindy gasps. “You’re brave.”
“I was an only child. I love the idea of a full house,” Isla says dreamily. “Noise, chaos… all of it. Give it to me.”
I’m amazed she seems so put together. Then my thoughts drift back to my own situation.
I’d always imagined a big family, too. I just never imagined this.
Or Dorian Vale.
Dorian is my wild card, the one thing I never saw coming.
It’s more than likely that we’ll start with one child and take it from there.
I’m about to ask another question, but a quiet awareness prickles at the base of my neck, then the heat of a body behind me sends a shiver down my spine. A large hand presses to the small of my back, and the faint scent of musk and cedarwood reaches my nose.
I don’t need to turn to know who it is.
Dorian leans close to my ear, the scruff of his beard brushing my cheek. “I need you.” The deep baritone of his voice goes straight to my core, awakening the nest of butterflies living in my stomach.
I glance up at him, meeting those piercing blue eyes.
“Now,” he mutters, keeping his voice low.
“Sure.” I glance back at the group. Everyone is watching us with keen interest. “See you guys in a little while.”
They each give me a small wave.
Dorian leads me away again, but this time, he takes my hand, and there’s purpose in the way he moves. “I need you to kiss me.”