She keeps looking at me, her grip tightening on my lapel.
“You think I should’ve taken the hit and been honest with her. Accepted I’m not going to be in the will if these are her terms.”
“I didn’t say that,” she mutters.
“Again, you didn’t have to.”
She sighs, lets me go, and turns away. “My opinion doesn’t matter, anyway. As long as I say what you need me to say when the time is right, that’s all that matters, correct?”
“That’s a cynical way to view it,” I grunt.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing here?”
“I don’t remember telling you to say I fell to my knees and begged for forgiveness.”
Her smile is magnetic and mischievous. “Can’t I havesomefun?”
“Oh, that’s fun to you?” My hand glides to her hip, squeezes, and pulls her closer. “You enjoy humiliating me, don’t you?”
“I think you might enjoy it too, sir.”
“Or maybe you’re forgetting who’s in charge.”
I pull her in for a kiss. When I taste her lips and feel the urgency in the kiss, I can’t fight the feeling that this is real. Which makes me an idiot.
She pushes her tongue into my mouth, grabs my shoulders, and sinks her fingernails in as though she’s desperate for my touch.I pull her closer to me. My instinct is to glide my hand up her thigh, feel her naked thickness, find her wet and needy pussy.
She presses her hand against my chest, leans away slightly. “Maybe not… here.”
“Then we better get back to our room,” I growl.
“We’re not doing anything like that again,” she whispers.
I don’t say anything. She’s right; this wasn’t part of the deal.
How is she going to kiss me like she wants me, needs me, and expects me not to feel the same?
We continue through the mansion. Other guests are waking up now, walking through the gardens, and some have already taken a seat in the vast living room, sipping champagne.
As we walk down the hallway, I hear a raised voice coming from one of the other rooms. It’s Julian, my cousin, the backstabbing prick. He’s yelling at someone.“If there’s something you need to tell me, just fucking tell me. You won’t be happy if you wear my patience out. Bitch!”
Aurora looks at me. Even with her mask on, I can read her concern.
“Wait here,” I tell her, then hammer on the door.
“What?” Julian roars.
“It’s me,” I grunt. “The whole mansion can hear your yapping.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business, Julian. I’m counting to five and then coming in. Make sure you’re decent.”
I silently count to five and then push the door open. Julian’s date is in bed, the sheets pulled up around her chin. She’s the escort, I remember. The one the oh-so helpful butler, Sebastian, set him up with… and wanted to set me up too.
“What’s all this commotion about?” I growl.
Julian looks tired, his eyes bloodshot, bags under his eyes. He huffs and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why you think you need to get involved.”