Page 42 of An Improper Deal (Elliot & Annabelle 1)
“Not even Ryder Reed?” Nonny says.
“Especially not Ryder. He’s on his honeymoon in Thailand.”
Her shoulders sag in that dramatic end-of-the-world way only teenagers can manage.
“But when he’s in L.A., maybe we can see him.” Elliot winks conspiratorially.
I jerk at the unexpected kindness. I’m sure women want introductions to his more famous brother all the time, and he could’ve just dismissed Nonny. After all, she’s just extra baggage in this transaction of ours, and I’m not going to expect that he treat her as anything more.
But this…? I don’t think he did it out of calculation. He
already has my signature on the agreement.
I frown at the sea bream on my plate. I don’t want him to be nice to us, and especially not to Nonny. She doesn’t understand what the deal is. I don’t want her to develop unrealistic expectations, which can be dangerous. She’s already experienced enough disappointments in life.
And I’m torn; he’s not acting like a moneyed and entitled jerk around Nonny. Nothing much can get to me, but kindness to my sister? There’s no weapon more potent.
He is probably too well-bred to blow her off, I tell myself. Despite his wealthy family, he doesn’t strike me as the type who grew up with everything handed to him on a silver platter. And he made his own fortune, separate from his father’s.
But he isn’t well-bred enough to keep his hands to himself. A small brush of fingers. The cool glide of his slacks against my bare calves as he shifts. The casual way he pulls a tendril of hair off my flushed cheek.
And with every touch, a potent longing pierces me. I don’t know why this man makes me feel this way. It’s not the length of time since I last had sex. I’ve gone without before, I’ve felt attraction before, but those were pale shadows of what he arouses in me. It’s as though I’ve been drinking water all along, mistaking it for wine.
I go on autopilot, hoping nobody will notice. Somehow my brain commands me to smile when it’s appropriate and nod when required. By the time the server places dark chocolate mousse in front of us, tension winds through my body like piano wire. I’m so hypersensitive that the soft fabric of my dress seems to scrape my skin every time I breathe.
I pick up my fork and take a small bite of the dessert, but other than the fact that it’s soft, nothing registers. I’m too tightly strung to notice. From the others’ reactions though, the mousse must be decadent, a stairway to gastronomic heaven.
“Isn’t tomorrow a school day?” Elizabeth says, glancing at her slim platinum watch.
“I don’t go to bed that early.” Nonny polishes off the chocolate mousse on her plate, licking her lips.
“No, you’re right,” I say. “It’s time we got home.”
Something passes between Elizabeth and Elliot. “I’ll take her home,” Elizabeth says.
“You don’t have to bother,” I say.
“Ryder’s letting me drive his Ferrari,” she says casually. “I’m pretty sure it’s more fun now that the traffic’s died out some.”
Nonny’s eyes go round. “You drive his Ferrari?”
“Until he gets back, anyway. You want a ride?”
She spins toward me. “Oh my gosh, can I go with Elizabeth? Please?”
I want to tell her no, but the word sticks in my throat. My sister’s eyes are brighter than the sun, and she’s clasping her hands together in unconscious prayer.
Elliot leans over. “She’ll be fine. Elizabeth is an excellent driver.”
“I promise she’ll get home in one piece,” Elizabeth says.
“Yes, and I’ll go straight to bed when I get home!” Nonny adds.
“Har har. You’ll be too busy texting your friends about the experience. But okay. Ten minutes of texting and then straight to bed and to sleep.”
“Deal,” she says, even though her mouth is slightly pursed.
Elizabeth stands, says her goodbyes, and Nonny follows her out around the blue oceanic wall.
