Page 37 of Breaking the Rules
“Your father and I maintained a friendship over the years,” Xavier explained. “We’d catch a game of golf whenever I’m in town.”
“Are you kidding me?” Waverly groaned.
Robert put his arm around her shoulders. “Now, sweetheart. He did save your life.”
“I need a drink.” She didn’t drink of course and had never done so as a matter of principle. And even if she wanted to, there was no alcohol in the Sinner Estate. When Sylvia committed to a lifestyle, it was all the way. The room that had housed an impressive bar had been reconfigured into a yoga studio and meditation room.
“Darling, don’t joke about that so soon after rehab,” Sylvia chided her as she entered the room. “Recovery is not a laughing matter.”
“Mom, I told you it wasn’t that kind of rehab,” she sighed, avoiding Xavier’s gaze.
“Well, let’s enjoy some appetizers on the patio by the fire, and you can tell us all about it,” Sylvia suggested. She took her husband’s arm and led the way through the glass doors onto the patio.
Xavier offered Waverly his arm, which she ignored. But when she brushed past him, he grabbed her and tucked her under his arm in a headlock. She yelped and swung, catching him in the thigh with a hammer fist. He released her with a laugh, and Waverly straightened her crepe mini dress.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“I like being around you.” He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles.
“You need to stop with the full court press, Saint. It’s not happening,” she said even as she let him tug her closer.
“Angel,” he was suddenly so serious. The tenderness in his eyes took her breath away as she looked up into the face angels had carved. “I really like your boots.”
He laid his lips against hers in a surprise kiss.
“Ugh!” Waverly shoved away from him and stalked out to the patio, his laughter carrying behind her. She wanted to hate him, wanted to remember all the pain he’d caused her. But she’d never seen Xavier so playful. A smile played upon her lips.And her boots were spectacular,she admitted. Over-the-knee grey suede, they helped ward off the autumn chill. Mile-high heels took them from stylish to sexy. Even now, she could feel the heat of his gaze on her as he followed her outside.
Would she ever not be aware of him? Would she ever get used to his magnetism?
“We thought you two got lost,” her father said with a smile. He and Sylvia were cuddled up on one of the outdoor settees by the fireplace.
Louie, her parents’ chef that she borrowed from time to time to stock her fridge with meals when she was too busy to cook, swept through another door, a platter of canapé in his hands. He was a trim man with a manicured moustache and inky black hair. He could turn the most basic kitchen ingredients into a silver platter worthy four-course dinner.
“Louie!” Waverly waited until he’d set the tray down on the low wicker table in front of her parents before wrapping him in a tight hug.
“You’re too thin,” he announced briskly. “I’ll come tomorrow and cook for you.”
He gave Xavier a frosty look. “Mr. Saint,” he nodded coolly.
“Good to see you again, Louie,” Xavier said offering his hand.
Louie made a humming noise before reluctantly shaking Xavier’s hand and then abruptly turning back to Waverly. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I approve of your boots.”
And with that, he stormed back into the house.
“Louie is obviously a big fan of yours,” Waverly said with a snarky grin in Xavier’s direction. She took a seat on the settee across from her parents and didn’t bother silencing her sigh when Xavier sat next to her. He took up too much room with his broad shoulders and the spread of his knees. He’d worn navy trousers tonight and a soft blue-gray sweater over a checked button down with the same tones. Why did he always have to be so gorgeous? He still hadn’t shaved, and the roughness over his jaw made his dangerous look even edgier, lethal even.
“Waverly.” Xavier pinched her in the ass.
“Huh? Sorry. What?”
He grinned at her as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. “Your mother wants to know about your recent trip.”
He was baiting her, daring her to put it all out there to her parents. Or let him win. She shifted her foot so that the heel of her boot rested on top of his Armani oxford.
When she leaned forward to pick up a canapé, she applied pressure. “I mentioned when I called you, Mom, that it wasn’trehabrehab,” she began. It was funny how quickly things could change. She’d spent most of her life lying to her parents, but in the past few years as they’d pulled their lives together and refocused as a family, honesty had become a priority.
There was just one thing that she couldn’t tell them the truth about. As protective as they’d become since nearly losing her, her parents would never have supported her intel work for the studio. So she’d kept them in the dark, danced around their questions when necessary, and now, lied outright to their faces.
