NINE
DINNER SHOULDN’T BE daunting. Having Struan there to guide her into the huge dining space at the back of the house did take the edge off some of her trepidation.
The rear garden was lit up, the pool sparkled, the edge of the slate patio glowed. Another world? More like another planet.
“How was your day?” Magnus asked.
Struan guided her into a chair at the circular table and pushed it in under her.
“My day?” she asked of the man awaiting an answer. “Yes, uh, it was… interesting.”
“I’ve got to have more say on the clothes if she’s supposed to be my girlfriend.”
Quite a talent Roman had for paying zero attention to anyone else while demanding his say with the crowd.
“What’s wrong with her clothes? Chic has excellent taste.”
“Yeah, but there’s got to be a reason, right?”
“A reason?” Magnus asked.
“Why she got my attention. Not like she’s got a name or a rep to back her up.”
“Her lips,” Struan said.
Wine. Good, there was—what did he say? Apparently, Roman wasn’t the only one not paying attention to others.
“Her what?” Roman barked.
“Her lips,” Struan said. “That plump cherry red pout. That’s the first thing you noticed about her.”
Usually “plump” wouldn’t be considered complimentary, but, shit. Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, she dug her teeth into it.
“Good, yeah, it’s like a script. Keep feeding me the lines, bro.” Because Roman’s head was somewhere else. “Talk to Priest today?”
They had their own priest? That couldn’t be what he meant. A priest for an addict? Hollywood could be accused of worse.
“No,” Struan said. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Leave her alone. She doesn’t want you calling.”
“We could take a stroll to…”
“New York?” Magnus asked. “Not a chance, you’re on set this week. The calendar’s full.”
“They’re not in New York yet.”
“You knowing that highlights the problem.” Struan distributed salad family style. “You didn’t know what planet you were on last night, but you know where Sway was? Get over it, Ro.”
“They?” she asked.
“Roman’s ex,” Struan said. “Sway Sheridan.”
“Oh, God, Sway Sheridan, she’s—” Gorgeous, glamorous, glittering. “Is she an addict?”
Real smooth. But, hey, she finally got Roman’s attention.
“No one’s a fucking addict,” he snapped. “Don’t read the fucking press, they don’t know shit.” Offending him, well, that was one weapon against molestation. If he disliked her enough, he’d never get close. Bonus secret strategy? “And Sway’s fucking perfect.”
“And that right there is your problem, idolizing her doesn’t change anything.”
“You tell Priest to keep his hands to himself,” Roman snarled through gritted teeth. “Touching my woman comes with a price.”
“She’s not your woman and can do whatever she wants.”
“Just not Priest, anyone but Priest.”
“You’re the only guy on the planet who doesn’t like him,” Struan said. “Think maybe you’re missing something?”
“I’m the only guy who sees through it, the bullshit act,” Roman said, almost petulant in the way he stabbed at his food in his exaggerated slouch. “He’s a dick, and I’ll be right there to see it when the truth comes out.”
Struan sighed and caught Magnus’s eye. These men were no strangers to Roman’s pout. She sucked her lips into her mouth again. Did she pout?
“Focus on keeping this truth under wraps,” Magnus said. “You’ve got to sell this relationship, every minute, man.”
“Her pout, I heard him,” Roman said. “Rack isn’t bad either.” And she just sat there, being objectified. Great, offending him might keep him away, but it didn’t repel his eyes. “Need to watch that video again, get myself familiar with everything that’s mine.”
“Nothing is yours,” Struan was quick to warn him. “You touch her, or push her further than she wants to go, I’ll walk out there and tell the damn world the truth myself.”
That didn’t surprise only her.
“Yeah, fucking right,” Roman’s initial surprise gave way to his usual arrogance. “You know your fucking place.”
God, he was just vile. “Do you have to swear so much?” she asked. “It’s unattractive and unnecessary.”
In the corner of her eye, Magnus’s jaw drop didn’t go unnoticed.
“Who the fuck do you—”
“If we’re supposed to be a couple, we have to be comfortable with each other.”
“You some kind of priss or something?”
“There’s a place to be naughty, and it’s not at the dinner table with your family.”
“Who the fuck is she?” Roman demanded of his uncle. “She can’t talk to me this way.”
“Yeah, she can,” Struan said. “People in her world have to believe this too.”
Her world? Hmm, right, yeah, she should probably call her mom back. Wishbone might be at the back of beyond, but they were connected to the rest of the world. Forgetting her phone at the apartment might be her saving grace. The thing had probably melted by now.
“Her world?” Roman scoffed. “Who gives a fuck about her world? Call Priest, ask him to stay here.”
What the…? The guy claimed he wasn’t an addict, but his personality sure said otherwise. Were they talking about Sway and Priest again? How did he swing back to that conversation without missing a beat?
“Why would he want to stay here?”
“Is he with Zairn?”
“I don’t know,” Struan said.
“Is he fucking her?”
“Let me guess, you called and she didn’t pick up.”
Roman ran a ragged hand through his hair. “Yeah, only like forty fucking times. She needs to be here. To come here. If she’s seen the video—”
“She’s celebrating,” Struan said. “Thanking the gods she’s finally fucking free.” His eyes cut to hers. “Sorry.”
That he even thought to apologize was a massive step up from Roman’s attitude.
“So Sway’s your ex-girlfriend, and now she’s with this priest? I thought priests were celibate.”
“Not that kind of priest,” Struan said, leaning a little closer. “It’s a nickname.”
Okay, that story would have to wait.
“We don’t know where she is,” Magnus said.
Quickly followed up by Struan. “It’s not our business.”
“Is she with Deacon?” Roman didn’t let a little thing like reality deter him. “Is she fucking both of them?”
“Yeah,” Struan said. “That’s it, she’s fucking everyone, Priest, Deacon, Zairn, even Logan. The Kintyre wedding this past weekend was a mass orgy. Know how many rich guys were in town? Bet she was screwing all of them. A lot of well-known faces to get down and dirty with.”
Roman thrust to his feet. “We’re going to the house.”
“Have a great time,” Struan said, the only one willing to challenge his brother, to meet obstinance with obstinance. “You think you can get into Knox Collier’s house unseen? You think the guy doesn’t have security? More headlines! Great, brother, Bambi’s off the hook and your career sinks right down that drain it’s circling.”
The standing man’s jaw moved as his lips thinned. Yeah, he was mad, but from what she could tell, he was doing this to himself.
“If she’s your ex,” she asked, “why is it your business who she’s hooking up with?”
Went to show that no amount of money or fame changed that baser form of men with his affliction. Narcissism, in its simplest form, poisoned the blood of people like this, those who believed they were better than others.
Was that the difference? Struan, Roman, from one man to the next, she tried to decipher what it was about them that made their difference in aura so stark.
“Stop looking at him like that,” Roman barked, thrusting a finger her way. “You’re my fucking girl.”
“Okay,” she said and pushed her chair away from the table. “I’m going to bed.”
“It’s not even nine thirty.”
And maybe that made a difference in their world, not in hers. “I was raised not to humor the humorless. It’s been a long day.” She stood up. “I have work in the morning. Goodnight.”