Kiss of Ice (St. James Family) (24 page)

“
Oh,” she said. Christophe smiled, loving her discomfort.

“
He definitely was showing her something,” Miranda said, her eyes glittering with mischief. “I didn't realize you two were so friendly.”

“
Last I heard, these two were at each other's throats,” The Old Man said, raising an eyebrow.

“
That was months ago,” Christophe said. “This is the first time I've seen Annie in a long time.” He turned to her, wanting to see her squirm.

“
Too long,” Annie murmured. “I hope I'll be seeing more of you.” Annie's liquid eyes caught his, the silence between them stretching for a millisecond too long. Then she turned back to Miranda and The Old Man. “Of all of you,” she said smoothly.

“
You'll have to come out. Christy, you can invite your female friend. What's her name?” Miranda said. Annie blinked, but otherwise showed no reaction.  Christophe clenched his fist in his pocket. Dammit Miranda. Always trying to stir up shit.

“
I doubt she would be interested,” Christophe said. The woman he'd been fucking for the past month was as disinterested in having a real relationship as he was. He had needs, goddammit, and Marta was available. But it didn't matter. Now he felt the need to explain to Annie, even though he owed her no explanation. In fact, she might be dating someone. But instead of making him feel better, the thought of her fucking someone else only enraged him. He knew it was hypocritical, and he didn't care.

“
She's tall, just like you, Annie. I think she's a model or something? Brazilian. Lovely caramel skin.” Miranda gushed on. He stared at her, with what he hoped was a blank expression on his face. With every word, he felt Annie moving further and further away.

“
We'll have to set up a dinner,” The Old Man nodded. Miranda's eyes flitted between Christophe and Annie. Well, it was official. If Miranda didn't flat out know, then she was definitely suspicious. He saw Annie's armor was back up, her back ramrod straight.

“
I'll let you get back to your party. So good to see you,” she was saying, looking everywhere but at him. And then they were alone, as alone as they could be in a crowded ballroom, as Miranda and The Old Man wove their way through the crowd. “Don't let me monopolize you,” she said. “You should be schmoozing.”

“
You said you wanted to talk to me. About what?” He stepped closer to her, but she backed away.

“
Enjoy your party, Christophe. You earned it,” Annie said, then turned toward the door. He followed her, keeping a short distance behind her. When she reached the entrance to the ballroom, he hooked an arm around her waist and steered her down the hallway. “What are you doing?” she hissed in his ear.

“
Just walk,” he told her, ushering her down to the conference room where this had all begun, one year ago.

***

Annata watched the heavy door of the conference room slam shut behind her and turned to face Christy, her hands on her hips.  She didn't think he really wanted to be in a room alone with her, but here they were.

“
You son of a bitch,” she blurted out. “Playing grab-ass with me, while your Brazilian model girlfriend waits for you at home? Or is she here? I want to meet her.”

“
Stop it. You're embarrassing yourself,” he said, leaning against the table. She could punch him. He looked effortlessly elegant—his blond hair  was perfectly combed, and the cut of his suit was impeccable. “You broke up with me, remember?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“
Shut up,” Annata said, because he was right. What right did she have to tell him who to sleep with? But her blood still boiled when she thought about how he'd touched her in the ballroom. How he'd held her, his cock hard against her. All it took was one touch from him, and she was wet and ready. Her thighs were still slick from their dance. Damn him.

“
That's all you have?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. She sighed.

“
No. I'm angry at you.” Annata smoothed her hair, willing herself to relax.

“
I don't owe you an explanation.” He said. “Miranda just said that to see if you would react.”

“
I know that. But if you'd kept your hands to yourself, she wouldn't be trying to kick up dust.”

“
You liked it,” he said, his voice low. “You liked when I grabbed your ass.”

“
So what's her name?” Annata asked, ignoring his last statement. She tried to swallow, but found that her throat was thick and sticky as honey.

“
Marta. We've been fucking for a couple of weeks,” he said matter-of-factly.

“
How does Miranda know about Marta?”

“
Who knows? We went out a couple of times for dinner. One of Miranda's spies must have reported back.”

“
You didn't introduce her to your parents?”

“
No!” Christophe scoffed.

“
How old is she?” Annata fired back.

“
Jesus, Annie,” Christy sighed. “25, I think.” Annata felt like her head was going to explode. So Brazilian Marta was young and beautiful. Of course she was. Annata knew she shouldn't care. And Christophe didn't owe her her anything. But that didn't make her feel any better. She'd come to the party for Christy. Because she loved him. But maybe that didn't mean anything. Maybe that wasn't good enough.

“
Where did you meet?” Annata couldn't stop herself.

“
We met on the plane. After Thanksgiving,” he said, his eyes dark and intent on her. “We fucked in the first class bathroom.”

“
The bathroom?” Annata squeaked. She felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up, the heavy air in the room and the close proximity to Christy finally getting to her. “You're such a cliché, Van der Kind.” She said. A smile touched the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers.

“
I'll admit, not my best performance,” he said. Annata laughed harder, leaning on the table right next to him. She clutched her side, her ribs barely able to expand in her corset. He kept going, enjoying torturing her.“It was too cramped. There were legs and arms everywhere. The mile high club is way overrated.”

“
Did you get to do your signature move?” she choked out, imitating his two fingered move that he showed her all those months ago in the cab in Paris.

“
No, I didn't even attempt it. Too dangerous,” he whispered, leaning in close to her.

“
How responsible of you.” Annata sighed, her giggles subsiding as she felt his lips brush her shoulder. His hand strayed to the sensitive skin at the small of her back, exposed by the line of her dress.

“
Annie,” he murmured. “What else do you want to know?” Annata felt his fingers softly caressing her skin.

“
Is she good?” Annata asked.

“
She's not you,” he said, sliding his hand down her ass.

“
What do you think about when you're fucking her?” Annata felt herself leaning into his touch. He dragged his teeth across her shoulder.

“
Nothing,” he whispered, pulling her toward him, positioning her between his legs. She put her hands on either side of his face, wanting to kiss him. And she did,  dipping her tongue between his teeth. He responded with a moan, his hands digging into the soft skin of her ass. She could feel his hardness against her thigh and a familiar thrill ran through her. She'd missed him so much. He sucked on her lower lip before taking her mouth again, and she gave as good as she got, sucking and teasing his tongue. He bucked his hips against her, his fingers digging into her ass. “She doesn't mean anything,” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss her neck.

“
Do you like fucking her?” Annata said, imagining him on top of a beautiful girl in his bed. His long body, taut over her, crying out as he came. Jealousy flared up, unwelcome and angry.

“
I missed you.” His voice filled her ear. “I want you.” She pulled him closer, her love for him fiercer and more terrifying than ever. But she wanted him to know. She wanted him to hear her say that she loved him, when he had asked her so many times if she did. The time when she denied her feelings for him was over. It was time to lay bare her soul and let the chips fall where they may.

“
Christy...” She murmured, her voice trailing off into a moan as he nipped at the sensitive skin on her neck. Then he pulled back, with a deep breath.

“
Wait.” He drew a shaky hand through his hair. “I invited her.”

“
You invited her?” Annata shook her head, trying to get the cobwebs out. “Where? To the party?”

“
No. On the trip. We're going together.”

“
The trip?” Annata furrowed her brow, not understanding. Then, like a bucketful of cold water splashing her in the face, she got it. He was taking the young and beautiful Marta away for Christmas. On a romantic trip. “Fuck.” Annata pressed her palms against his chest and pushed away from him.  “Fuck!

“
Annie.”

“
No! Forget it. I hope you and Marta have a great time, wherever the hell you're going.” The angry jealousy reared up, and she knew she shouldn't let it cloud her judgement. But she couldn't stop the rising heat in her chest, nor the roaring in her ears.

“
Annie, shut up.” He pulled her to him, nuzzling her neck. She pushed him away again.

“
I think your father is waiting for you.  For the speech.” Annata stepped away, smoothing her dress. She needed to be away from him. If she didn't get away, she'd probably break down crying, which was not in her plan. She could feel her throat thickening already. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He grabbed for her again, his hands on her waist.

“
You're punishing me. For telling the truth,” he growled, pressing his forehead to hers. “All you do is punish me.”

“
I'm sorry for coming tonight,” she said, her voice wavering. “I'm sorry for complicating things.”

“
Goddammit Annie!” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “What do you want from me?”

“
Nothing,” she murmured, although she wanted everything. She wanted all of him, every bit. She was being selfish, she realized. He was moving on with his life. She should let him. He dropped his hands and pulled away from her.

“
Fine.” He straighten his suit jacket and buttoned it to cover the bulge in his pants. “You know what? I'm sorry, too, as always. I'm sorry for pawing all over you like a caveman. Obviously, we're just going around in circles here.” His voice was cold, business-like. He jammed his hands in his pockets. In that pose, with that look on his face, he could be a model in a Gucci ad. She put her hand to her lips. They felt swollen. Her lipstick was probably a mess. She wondered what her hair looked like? Her mind focused on the stupid details, shutting out the siren call of her heart. If she opened her mouth, the scream would escape. “I didn't prepare a speech. The Old Man loves to pull this shit. To keep me on my toes,” he said, not looking at her. She felt herself nodding her head in agreement. “I should go.”

Annata cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, hoping that she'd be able to. “I...You'll be fine,” she said, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. “Play the straight man to William. The crowd will love it.”

“Yeah.” He turned and strode to the door.

“
Have a good trip.” She heard herself saying. He shot her a dark glance, anger on his features. Then he was gone, slamming the door behind him. Annata sat on the edge of the table, feeling completely and utterly empty. She wanted a drink. Badly. Then she wanted to go to bed and hide under the covers. But first, she had to get away from the party as quickly as possible. She felt a laugh bubble up and the sound echoed in the empty room. She'd blown it. Completely and totally blown it. For someone so savvy and successful at her job, she was utterly failing in her personal life. She was head over heels in love with Christophe Van der Kind. He was the only man she wanted. And she had a sneaking suspicion that without him in her life, she was going to dry up like the desert. She wanted to retreat to Sarah Jane and never leave.

Some time later, she left the conference room. She focused on the exit, seemingly miles away, as Christophe and William's amplified voices took up all the empty space. On stage, but out of sight, they bantered back and forth, their words unclear. Spattered applause and cheers leaked out into the hallway. She willed herself to keep her face forward, not looking into the ballroom.

“It never was William was it?” A voice to her left said. A hand brushed her arm. Annata turned her head, barely registering the words. Miranda cocked her head, her brow furrowed. “It was Christy the whole time.”

“
Miranda,” Annata said, then sighed. “I was on my way out.”

“
I should have seen it from the beginning. I'm usually good at that sort of thing.” Miranda dropped her hand from Annata's arm. “I...I was the one who convinced William and the board to vote Christy CEO over you. I was...” She trailed off, glancing at the floor. Annata vaguely wondered if the anger that flashed through her chest was showing on her face. Miranda picked at her emerald bracelet. “I was jealous. Of your closeness with my husband.”