Authors: Liz Matis
He bent down and kissed her shoulder then her neck as he struggled to come down from the nirvana he just caught a glimpse of. The mirror fogged up as their ragged breathing sounded through the room.
Reaching around her he turned off the faucet. “I’m glad we worked that out.”
Chapter 27
V
ictoria was glad the mirror had fogged so he could no longer look at the reflection of her eyes and see right through her to heart. Though it was already too late for that, wasn’t it? He knew. Knew that she was his. Claimed her like a barbarian for God’s sake and she moaned her fate like a defeated woman because she needed him inside her. And she let him spank her! Any other man and she would’ve cut off his balls. But Russ wasn’t any other man.
He was the man with hurt etched on his face this morning when they argued. Perhaps his feelings ran deeper than he was willing to admit. She pushed her skirt down. “We still need to keep it under wraps, at least until Neil gets back.”
“We’re not doing a very good job of that. I can’t keep my hands off you.” His hand reached under the fabric of her skirt and caressed her bottom. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
She almost sighed as his hand smoothed the sting. Her insides quiver again with desire. “A little.”
“Tonight I’ll replace those spanks with kisses.”
She yearned to turn around and see his expression. “Now I really do need to fix my make-up.”
He zipped up his jeans and tucked his shirt in. “You look beautiful.”
It was the first time he told her so. “Thank you, but the camera doesn’t lie.”
“Neither do my eyes.” He turned her around to face him and placed his hands on her hips. “Now one more kiss before you put on lipstick.”
“One more? I don’t believe there was any kissing going on.”
“Semantics.” There was no more talking as his lips slid over hers in a gentle kiss.
She ached to wrap her legs around him. To stay locked in his embrace and let the world go on outside the locked bathroom door. Once opened, reality would fly in. Her parents, the show, and the paparazzi would invade her fantasy world. Her heart would be unsure, her mind asking questions, and her soul wondering if he was the one.
Russ ended the kiss. “I’d better go before they send out a search party.”
Swimming in a turbulent sea of conflicting emotions, Victoria needed a rescue party.
***
Several days later Victoria spent the train ride to the Hamptons rehearsing the speech she’d give to her parents. Now, as her mother’s driver, who’d picked her at the station, pulled up the long driveway of the family beach house, the words blew away with the ocean breeze. She imagined the crunch of gravel beneath the Lincoln Town Car’s wheels were her bones being crushed under the weight of her family legacy. Perhaps she should give in to it. Marry a man of her parents’ choosing. With any luck she might be able to corrupt whoever he might be. But he still wouldn’t be Russ.
The Bryce’s summer home came into view but it looked more like a mansion imported from England than a beach house. She had spent every summer of her life here wandering the sand dunes like a lover waiting for her man to return from the sea. Forever the romantic when she was young, now forever the realist. The car stopped at the main entrance and she gathered her things and waited for the door to be opened for her. When she had tried once to get out on her own, her mother had admonished her for the act.
“Thank you, Evans.” She took his hand as she had many times over the years.
He tipped the ridiculous hat her father made him wear. “You’re welcome, Miss Bryce. Ring me when you’re ready to leave for the train station.”
“Might want to keep the engine running this time.”
“Oh no, what did you do now?”
“Hey, I’ve been good.”
“Hmrppp, you only got good at not being caught.”
It appeared Evans was still firmly in her parent’s corner.
However, the maid, who opened the large oak door and welcomed her home with more enthusiasm than her own parents could ever muster, was in Victoria’s corner.
“Good morning, Mams!”
The hardy, but not heavy, woman held Victoria in a fierce hug. Her mother would fire an employee if she considered them slovenly—which meant twenty or so pounds overweight. The long-time maid walked the imaginary line most of the time and when she stepped across it, Victoria battled her mother so Mams could keep her job. “Thanks, I’m going to need that hug.”
“Remember—don’t show fear.”
Victoria laughed and she headed down the hall. If it weren’t for Mams she never would’ve had the courage to stand up to her mother—that and the trust fund her grandmother bequeathed five years ago. It’s easy to be brave when you have a cool million in the bank.
She hesitated at the doorway for a moment to gather her strength for the upcoming battle. No doubt her mother had informed her father of Victoria’s most recent abhorrent behavior. For two years she kept out of the papers but that would mean nothing to them. Neither did the fact that after the initial set-up cost of Victoria Designs, she was not only self sufficient but able to bank money.
“Victoria, what are you doing standing out there like one of the servants?”
But that’s how Victoria had always felt—like one of the hired help. It seemed she was always waiting to be summoned. This wasn’t going to go well. As she approached them she tried to gauge the mood of her ageless father. Time had yet to touch his golden hair and one had to wonder whether he was a vampire or had made a deal with the devil.
It could go either way.
“Hello, father.” She gave him the expected routine peck on the cheek and, to her mother who held out her cheek, Victoria kissed the air, never daring to make actual contact. “Hello, Mother.”
Victoria settled into her assigned place on the high-backed formal couch that didn’t belong in a beach house. In fact, if the drapes were drawn one would never know they’d left the Manhattan penthouse behind.
Her father folded the paper and creased it just so. “I thought you’d finally grown up Victoria, but this latest incident shows me otherwise.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you yet again.” She couldn’t help letting the sarcasm tint her voice.
“That can be overlooked this once since no one recognized you,” said her mother. “But you must end it with that, that gigolo.”
“Mother, he is NOT a gigolo.” Victoria was getting mad and when she got mad she said stupid things. “I get it for free.”
“You see Henry, there is no talking to her.”
Her father patted her mother’s hand. “You fancy yourself in love with him, don’t you?”
She did, but she looked away.
“Oh this is worse than I thought.” Her mother shook her head.
“I think this might open your eyes, Victoria, to the real world.”
Her father handed her the paper he’d been reading. The Australian Times.
“See page six.”
Victoria turned the pages one by one. Her focus zoomed to the picture of a shirtless Russ and a tall beautiful blonde woman with her boobs hanging out of tank top and a pair of daisy duke shorts. Just the woman she’d feared was his type. Let’s face it, she was the type of a large percentage of heterosexual males. Hell, if she were a lesbian the woman would be her type too.
Her gaze lifted to the headline. ‘Star of Design Factory Claims Rowland is the Baby’s Father.’ With shaking hands she scanned the accompanying article that read like a classic tale of accusation and denial with paternity tests pending. How did he keep this a secret from the producers of Design Intervention? From her? Was it true?
Pregnant was bad enough but then to desert the mother of your baby? Russ wouldn’t do that. She knew it in her soul. “Father, this isn’t true.”
“Really? And you know this because you’ve known him all of two weeks?”
Her mother was right but Victoria wasn’t about to admit it—not even to herself. “That isn’t fair. You know how these papers are—”
“And you’d be the expert, wouldn’t you?” Now her father’s voice was laced with sarcasm.
But he was right. Truth was that the tabloids had never outright lied about any of Victoria’s high jinks. They embellished, implied, but the last time she’d been set up by her so-called friends and that had cut deeper than the headlines. That was her wake-up call. She started to take school seriously and planned her design business. “So he slept with her but he did not get her pregnant and leave.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending him. Have you no self-respect left?”
“No, mother you’ve been chipping away at it for years.”
Her mother stuck the paper in her face. “How could you want anything to do with him after seeing this?”
“Because this is a lie. Or at least it isn’t the truth until a paternity results are in.”
“I don’t believe this. Henry?”
“She’s an adult, Evelyn.”
“Don’t come back here crawling, expecting us to help you.”
“Mother, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Her mother had never been there for her. Not even after the photos appeared in the paper. Victoria had a couple of drinks, not enough to get drunk, but someone must have slipped her something, because she didn’t remember kissing two girls nor flashing her boobs for the camera. It may not have been the last time she had a drink but it was the last time she’d ever trusted anyone but Ava and Neil. And now as she defended Russ to her parents she realized she had added him to the short list of her trusted circle.
She was in love with Russ and she would give him the benefit of trusting him. Was that trust misplaced? The words ‘your mine for as long as I want you’ echoed in her mind. How long would that be? Until Neil returned? Until he received an offer in LA? Ava was a damn good agent; she’d get him a job. Perhaps she could ask Ava to concentrate her search to the New York area?
She hated herself for the thought. She needed to end it. The newspaper article would give her leverage for a break-up. No way Russ could fight her on this one. The standoff continued and she realized the break she needed was from her parents, not Russ. She got up without waiting to be dismissed. “I think we’re done here.”
“You’re not staying for dinner?” asked her mother.
“I’ve lost my appetite.” Not for food but for trying to get them to love her. With the weight of the world off her shoulders she calmly walked out of the room and to the front door.
Mams was waiting tearfully. “I’m sorry, dear.”
“Don’t be. I shouldn’t expect anything else.” She gave her hug. As she approached the car, Evans was on the phone.
“I see you were right.”
Victoria fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him like she used to when she was a little girl.
“That was your mother. She asked if I would drive you back to the city.”
Her mother couldn’t be too mad if she offered the services of the driver. Normally she would’ve declined and taken the train but she needed to be alone with her thoughts and since Evans wasn’t much of a talker she would have the ride in to decide what to do. She slid into the backseat and tried to make sense of the article. Should she confront him? Give him a chance to explain. Would she believe him?
Victoria needed this settled and didn’t want to wait until tonight after having all day to stew about it. Glancing at her watch, she’d be in time to see Russ play rugby with his friends or mates as he called them. Would he be happy to see her? Would the paparazzi staking out the park for celebrities spot her? But Victoria was done with worrying about the photo-hogs for now. She needed answers. Just because she believed Russ was not the baby’s father didn’t mean he didn’t have some explaining to do. “Evans, would you mind dropping me off at Central Park?”
“Not at all—it’s a lovely day for a drive through the park.”
Victoria thought so too—a lovely day to watch a group of Aussie hunks playing rugby. She hoped they played shirts and skins.
Chapter 28
R
uss didn’t believe his eyes at first. Was that Victoria sitting next to Ava? What was she doing here? She was supposed to be at her parents’ house. Perhaps it went badly. He hoped he wasn’t the cause but expected that he was. The good news is that she came to him instead of going it alone even if it risked them being photographed together.
The nagging thought that she was only here to piss off her mother lingered in his mind.
Russ grabbed the ball then ran down the sidelines hoping to impress her. Brady was hot on his heels and tackled him to the ground hard. Close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath, he spit out a piece of dirt and said, “Hey there, cupcake.”
“Be careful,” she ordered.
But he only took orders in the bedroom and then for only as long as it suited him. “No worries.”
“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about your face. We have a shoot tomorrow.”
He winked as he got up. “Chicks dig scars.” Then he ran back to his mates to finish out the game.
***