Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The second Kendra walked into the glittering ballroom on the fourth floor of Maddox Towers she regretted her decision to wear the dress she’d chosen for the night.
The dress, an emerald satin Chanel gown with a trumpet silhouette, had been an impulse buy two months ago…
back before her body had become home to a little person whose very presence made her plump up.
Already a curvy woman, the dress now hugged her harder in all the places she’d rather hide, and that made her stand out among a sea of women so beautiful, physically perfect, and elegantly refined they made the whole event look like something from a Hollywood afterparty.
“You look stunning, my love,” Gideon bent to murmur into her ear, his lips brushing against the lobe, his warm breath drifting across her neck. “Like a present I want to unwrap with my teeth, slowly, then take my time devouring.”
She gasped, shuddering at the sensations against her neck. “Gideon,” she whisper-hissed.
He chuckled, low and sexy. “You’ve unleashed the beast, wife, so now you have to deal with him.” The way he growled wife…oh Lord, her panties wouldn’t survive the night.
She shuddered again; she couldn’t help it, because the man was dangerous before she’d left him, but now he was downright lethal—especially to her body rife with hormones.
Your body isn’t the only thing that wants him…you’re just too scared to admit it.
“Gideon, this isn’t the place,” Kendra reprimanded him, only making him chuckle again.
Bending, he pressed a hard kiss to her lips, making her gasp once more. “You’re my wife; wherever you are is the place.” Another kiss, another gasp, and another low chuckle. His green eyes twinkled with humor, but the scorching lust that flashed through them made her pussy pulse with need.
Lord, he was devastating to her senses—and they hadn’t even really started the night yet.
If she survived that hungry look of his, she didn’t know how much of her would be left.
Let the man eat, woman!
Never had he been so openly affectionate with her, especially in public.
Typically, they would arrive together, then he’d break off to talk business, she’d go sit in the corner observing until he called her over to play the mogul’s wifey until he summoned her to his side to playact the happy couple.
Their physical interactions were limited to arm holding, leaning in, shoulder to shoulder, and the occasional stiff dance.
Tonight, though, the man was practically melted into her side, his body brushing against hers with every movement. And that kiss—he’d never kissed her in public before.
Maybe he was serious about changing, about being a real husband to you….
Well, that remained to be seen, because a few kisses meant nothing if no one was watching.
Yeah, like every eye in the room isn’t on you and your husband right now.
For the first time in their marriage, Gideon had deviated from the usual program, telling the chauffer to drive them around the back of the building to avoid the paparazzi in the front with the red carpet.
When she’d asked him what he was doing he’d replied simply, “Tonight isn’t about them, it’s about you…it’s about us. I want you to enjoy the evening, and I know how much you hate the cameras.” He shrugged. “So we’ll avoid them. Let Adrian and Cora handle being the face of the Maddoxes tonight.”
She’d sat in silence, stunned, until the car had pulled up to the security entrance in the back. He’d helped her from the car, he’d lead her into the building, and he’d lead her into the room—all without a single camera flash in her face.
Had that been to save her the awkwardness or had it been to keep the masses from seeing her in that poor choice of a dress?
Now you’re just looking for reasons to be an ungrateful bitch.
The man had done something thoughtful, and she was still stinging from what he’d said last week that she couldn’t appreciate his efforts.
Yeah, he’s finally making the effort—too little too late?
God, she didn’t know. What she did know was that he wasn’t pulling away, or making excuses to leave her at the table to schmooze, or ignoring her presence like she was just a shadow beneath the gleaming chandeliers.
Yes, he was making an effort, and she honestly felt proud to be standing beside him; however, her husband naturally drew attention, and that meant all the eyes in the room were now on him. On her. On the image of perfect couple they were portraying.
And she could feel the judgement like a curse mark on her skin.
They weren’t perfect, not even a little, and that had become glaringly clear that night Gideon had ripped her heart out, revealing the truth of their marriage.
Yes, he’d explained that, that he wanted a cold arrangement for lack of trust between them, but that it had turned into something more once he realized how he truly felt.
Could she really believe that?
But seeing him now, looking like power and masculine perfection in a black-on-black tux, you’d never guess the man was terrified of anything let alone his true emotions.
“Let them look; you’re gorgeous, and I am so fucking honored to have you standing next to me, baby,” Gideon proclaimed, his voice even and clear, like he was making a point to those around them.
Was he a mind reader now?
She stiffened at first, but as the meaning and the intention of his words sank in so did the warmth of his sincerity.
Unfortunately, the warmth disappeared at the chilly blast from the gaze of the woman slinking toward them, her body wrapped in Dior, her hair perfect, her makeup flawless, and her expression predatory.
Beside her, Gideon tensed, dropping her arm to wrap his around her body, pulling her securely into his side as though to keep her there—for appearances? For safety? For the promise he made to never let her leave his side that night?
As Isabella approached, Kendra couldn’t help but notice Adrian across the room standing next to a pissed off looking Cora, who was resplendent in an ice-white sleeveless evening gown that made even Kendra’s breath catch.
Adrian snapped something to Cora who narrowed her eyes at him, turned, and headed toward the bathrooms, leaving Adrian standing there, rage vibrating from his massive body.
Obviously, he and Cora were having problems, and more than anything Kendra wanted to take the opportunity to go to her friend and see what happened, but also part of her wanted to stay beside Gideon.
He might be an asshole, he might have hurt her, he might have lied to get her to the altar, but he was still hers.
Also, the sickest part of her wanted to be up front and center for the freight train derailment she felt was coming. She gripped Gideon’s arm tighter, threw back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and followed her husband into Winter Gala “Hunger Games.”
The other woman wasted no time being a class-A bitch.
“Gideon, amore mio, I was so happy to hear you would be here this evening—I’ve been so lonely without you,” Isabella purred as she leaned into kiss Gideon’s cheek. At the last moment, Gideon pulled back. He braced a hand against Isabella’s shoulder and took a step back, Kendra moving with him.
Isabella, stunned, blinked at him then pouted, her deep red lips a garish complement to the sapphire blue of her dress. The woman was dressed to kill with elegance in a gown fit for Mafia royalty.
“Isabella,” Gideon drawled cooly, his voice cold marble. “Where is your father?”
From the way the woman’s eyes narrowed, she didn’t appreciate Gideon’s tone, nor how he’d ignored her greeting.
“Is that any way to greet your future wife, amore mio?” Isabella cooed, and Kendra’s blood filled with ice.
Before she could react, Gideon growled, the sound vibrating through him and into her. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last wet hole on earth,” he snarled.
Isabella’s crimson smile slipped as she flashed her teeth. “Oh, darling, we both know that’s not true, especially since we both know how unhappy you’ve been the last three years.”
The floor must have collapsed beneath her because it felt like her knees gave out.
Her husband told her that? Isabella knew about their marriage, at least enough to know that Gideon was unhappy with his wife, with Kendra.
Gideon turned to Kendra, slid his finger under her chin, and forced her head up until she met his gaze. The green was darker than she’d ever seen it, and it made something inside her twist.
“Kendra, I need you to trust me, okay?” he murmured, a plea just on the edge of his voice.
Swallowing the desire to run, she gave him a single subtle nod, but the smile that came in answer stunned her to her core.
It was big, bright with unfettered joy, and heated with banked desire. “Thank you, baby.”
“But I want a full explanation at how she knows so much about us, Gideon,” she whispered back.
He hesitated, his gaze flashing, his lips pinching, but he then he nodded.
Dropping a quick kiss to her lips, he turned back to Isabella, who was glaring at Kendra like she wanted to plant a bullet between her eyes.
Crossing her arms, Isabella poured every ounce of malicious venom into a single haughty glare. “Why is this bitch here, Gideon? Didn’t I make myself clear—divorce her, marry me, and everything will be as it should be.”
Kendra couldn’t fathom that level of arrogance, but she didn’t miss how Isabella spoke about having this conversation with Gideon previously. But when?
“I believe you are under the misconception that I give a shit what you think, Ms. Mancini,” Gideon drawled, intense power in his voice. “I am also confused as to why you think you have the power to dictate to me regarding any fucking thing, let alone my marriage.”
So that was what the Maddox Emperor, ruler of New York, King of Manhattan, and Billionaire Alpha-hole sounded like.
It was like a whole other person took over his body; her husband was gone, and standing there in the same tux, wearing the same face was a god among men, flexing his power by simply being.
Power…terrifying power barely contained, strength on the brink of snapping, deadly intent on the edge of enemy annihilation.
Darkly sexy, potent, predatory…and all hers.
Dammit, why did it make her all achy like that?
Lord, open up the ground and let it swallow me whole before I become a human puddle.
Isabella hissed, all pretense of superiority gone. Loud enough for the people around them to hear, she shrilled, “We had a deal, Maddox—”
Kendra tensed, her breath catching. Deal? What deal? God, she hated being clueless, especially with a viper so close.
“I don’t think so, Ms. Mancini. I never made any such deal with you, and considering where we are, and making a scene, I honestly question your upbringing.”
With the drama hitting right out the gate, Kendra had nearly forgotten where they were, too.
There was at least two hundred people packed into the beautifully decorated ballroom, some dancing, some picking at the foods on the banquet tables, some imbibing free top shelf booze at the bar, and many of those people were staring in their direction, their attention rapt on the tense threesome.
Isabella gasped, her face turning almost as red as her lipstick. “How dare you, Maddox?”
Gideon grunted, pulling Kendra even deeper into his side. “What is it you want, Isabella? I don’t have all evening to deal with you and your tantrums; I came to spend a delightful evening with my lovely wife, and you’re ruining it.”
If a woman could stomp her foot while wearing five-inch red soles then Isabella Mancini would have done it.
She thrust a clawed, be-ringed finger at Kendra, and snarled, “She is not your wife—not anymore; Daddy already told me I could have you—”
Jerking her face up to peer at Gideon in breathless shock, Kendra nearly missed the approach of a familiar, stocky, quintessentially Italian-American middle-aged mobster.
Adolfo Mancini was a well-known “businessman” in NYC. Kendra wasn’t an idiot, so she knew he had direct ties to organized crime, and she knew her own husband had his fingers in Mafia pies, but as long as he left “family business” at the office, she didn’t ask questions.
Unfortunately, it looked like “family business” had come to the Winter Gala.
“Maddox,” Mancini barked, “it’s about time you showed your face. Have you any idea the trouble you’ve caused me?”
At that, Kendra saw something she’d never seen before but had heard about in terrified whispers and NYC folklore.
Her husband, Gideon Maddox, smiled a smile so dark and lethal all the blood drained from her body.
“Trouble?” Gideon drawled, death and menace in his voice. “The trouble for you, Mancini, has only just begun.”