Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Isla
“What do you say?” Dorian asks.
As he led me away from my father, I relished the sight of his mouth moving as if he was a fish out of water.
I’d have loved it if Marcella had captured that image.
Silently Brennan falls in step next to us.
“I would like hours to explore you,” Dorian goes on without pausing, “but we could start with a quickie and take it from there. Hold me over until we get to our wedding night in a few hours.”
His shocking words scandalize me.
But they probably shouldn’t shock me.
I don’t know Dorian well— don’t know him at all, actually —but saying what he thinks doesn’t seem to be a problem for him.
“And I could give you another orgasm. We are married after all. Everything I have belongs to you as well. So it’s fitting that I allow you to come.”
“Allow? ”
“Indeed. You’ll learn that your orgasms belong to me, little one.”
My knees weaken.
No man has ever dared speak to me this way.
Truthfully not many have had a chance to get that close to me. My parents controlled my dating life until I recently moved out and into my own small apartment. I wasn’t permitted to spend time with anyone who wasn’t approved by them, and I always had to be home by ten o’clock.
As soon as I was legally able to sign a lease, I fled.
To reinforce their displeasure with my decision, that was when my father cut off the trust fund my grandparents set up for me.
Even though I’d had to balance work, student loans, and my education, the tradeoff was worth it.
“I’m waiting for your answer, little one. Shall we disappear again?”
I bring my chin up. “Absolutely not, Mr. Vale.”
“Dorian,” he corrects. “And later tonight, you’ll be whimpering my name.”
A rush of awareness floods me, but I bring up my chin. “I think not.”
He tightens his grip. “Challenge accepted.”
Will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?
My new husband is a master of seduction and outrageous proclamations. I can’t even begin to compete.
After checking that we are ready to proceed to dinner, Mrs. Henderson speaks into her headset, then makes her way to the bandstand.
Doors to another ballroom open, and the quartet leader announces it’s time for dinner. Finally we’re done with awful baroque music. Or at least I hope so.
People begin to make their way into the gigantic ballroom.
Stunning chandeliers hang from the ceiling, their thousands of crystals refracting prisms of light.
A photo booth with tons of props is off to one side.
And there are numerous balloon arches in my wedding colors— Margaux’s wedding colors, I correct myself.
Every table has a vase filled with gorgeous bouquets of flowers. My sister’s favorites, of course.
DJ equipment is set up on a stage alongside a large wooden dance floor.
Quite the festive arrangement. For someone who wants to be here.
As guests find their nameplates, Mrs. Henderson shows the three of us to the head table.
Dante is standing next to it, talking to two other men.
A quick glance of the room shows that Altair seems to have disappeared.
Since it’s a Saturday night, he’s probably needed at his club.
I shiver again at the idea of ever visiting.
Maybe, though, I should be grateful that Dorian doesn’t intend to drag me there in my wedding gown.
We join the small group that Dante is standing with.
“Gentleman,” Dorian says, interrupting the conversation. “My wife, Isla.”
Another forced smile. After tonight, I’ll need a week for my frozen facial muscles to relax.
“Lucian Hawthorne,” he continues. “And Caleb Pierce.”
I don’t recognize the names, but I shake their hands.
Both are intense and extraordinarily good looking, though Lucian seems to study me for a moment in a calculating way.
“Business associates,” Dorian explains as Brennan greets the men.
Business associates. Like Dante Moretti?
The men appear to be close friends, and no one seems concerned that they’re socializing with the underboss of a crime family .
Even though I am accustomed to mingling with members of high society, that circle hasn’t included actual criminals.
At least I didn’t think so. Until this evening.
Dorian becomes aware that everyone is waiting on us, and so he turns his hand palm up and says, “Please,” to the group we’re with. One by one, beginning with Dante, people take their chairs.
Dorian seats me on his right, and Brennan drops into the seat on his other side.
I’m forever grateful when Evelyn joins us and takes the remaining empty chair, next to me.
Dorian requests his previously ordered thousand-dollar bottle of bubbly for our table. Selfishly I want it all to myself.
Once he approves the bottle, I’m poured the first glass, and I hand it off to Evelyn. I might not have survived this whole thing without her, even though she’s one of Margaux’s best friends.
Finally I have a flute of my own, and I tip it toward Evelyn. “You’re amazing.”
“You are,” she counters. “If anything like this happened to me, I’d run away screaming.”
I still might.
Rather than saying that aloud, I take a sip.
Secretly she leans even closer to whisper in my ear.
I sense Dorian’s scowl, but right now I don’t care.
“I got a text from Margaux.”
“So did I. Apologizing. She asked me to forgive her but said she couldn’t go through with the marriage.”
“Is that all she said?”
I frown. “What else is there?”
“How’s the champagne?” Dorian asks, interrupting us.
I sigh, trying not to show my annoyance with him. “Very good.” But I’ve grown accustomed to drinking a cheap prosecco I buy in bulk at the grocery store .
He frowns. “Not to your taste?”
“Really. It’s great.”
I know I should engage in the conversation going on around me, but I have no interest in the men and their discussions about the local baseball team, and the bets that Lucian is recommending for the World Series. “Red Sox are solid this year.”
“Of course they are,” Caleb agrees sarcastically as he frowns. “Especially since they stole one of Houston’s best players.”
“I won big on that one.” Lucian lifts a shoulder. “Odds were he was going to New York.”
“They were a long shot.” But there’s respect in his tone, acknowledging Lucian’s solid gamble.
“You’re bitter,” Lucian observes. “You wanted him to stay here.”
Caleb lifts his glass. “Not going to argue with that.”
Since I’ve already checked out from their discussion, I turn back to Evelyn. “You were saying?”
“Margaux found out about…” She glances over at Dorian to be sure he’s not paying attention. When she goes on, she drops her voice. “Him being involved with the mob.”
I cup my hand and raise it to shade my face so that only she can see me. “Are you talking about Dante Moretti? The man sitting directly across from you?”
Blinking wildly, she sinks against the back of her chair. “Are you serious?”
As if sensing our interest, Dante looks in our direction.
“You knew about that?”
“No.” I shake my head. “‘Not until an hour ago.” Had it only been that long? Since I started that trip down the aisle, my entire life has imploded.
Dante finally looks away and resumes talking to Lucian.
“All the people at this table scare the crap out of me. ”
“Me too,” I agree.
She shudders.
Our salads are served, giving us a chance to regroup.
“So…do you know what your new husband does for a living?”
I assumed he was a businessman. Whatever that meant.
“He arranges for loans. Expensive ones.”
The way she says it indicates that they are the type that don’t necessarily show up on monthly bank statements.
Is the man I married a loan shark?
That might explain his connection to the Moretti family.
“And Brennan…” She falls silent.
I stab a slice of cucumber as I wait for her to continue.
“I’m sorry.” Nervously she glances at the other people seated with us. “I shouldn’t say anything.”
“Yes. You should. Please.”
“But it’s why… I mean…”
“Why Margaux ran away?” And left me to deal with this?
She nods.
“Tell me.”
“He went to jail.”
That’s not a surprise.
“Is everything okay, Isla?” Dorian asks, touching my elbow and making me jump.
“Fine.” I offer him my finest, sunniest smile. “We’re just catching up.”
“I’d enjoy you engaging with the rest of the table,” he says, for my ears only. The words are innocuous, but there’s steel in his tone. He’s issuing a command, not making a request.
“Of course.” My lord.
“I’ll tell you later,” Evelyn promises. “But did you know Margaux is getting married tonight?”
“What?” I echo in absolute shock. My sister is getting married?