Men were gathered in a group close by.
I didn’t see any couples together. Everybody was grouped together by gender. And Edward thought I’d hang out here? Who would I talk to? The people bringing out the drinks? I’d certainly feel a lot more comfortable with them.
“Is that what we’ll be like?” I asked suddenly. I gestured towards the groups. “Doing our own thing, you discussing business with the men while I’m off with the women talking about parties and raising the kids?”
His mouth twitched in amusement. “I hope not. I don’t want separate but connected lives. I want our
life, Gabriella.” He leaned in, brushed a kiss over my cheek. “You can have a career or do as my mother did, get involved in charities...or raise the kids.” He gave me a mischievous smile. “You decide. One thing though. I’m not changing my name to Baine. But if you don’t want to change yours, that’s fine too.”
While I was still nervous, I did feel a measure of relief at his words. Now I just had to keep myself distracted until it was time to meet the future in-laws.
“That reminds me, I’m about to find out your family name. Does that mean you’re going to turn into a pumpkin? Or is it more of a Rumpelstiltskin thing where you’ll have to grant me a wish?”
Edward laughed and I felt myself relax even more. I could do this as long as he was with me.
“I’ll grant you a wish for every day that you’re mine,” he said.
“Well, my first wish is for one of those heavenly croissants. I’m starving.”
I watched a basket of the buttery pastries bob by on a waiter’s tray, but before I could snag one, the hostess came by.
“Mr. Edward? Your party is here.”
We walked arm in arm into the formal dining room. In the doorway, we paused a moment and I had that split second to try and guess who Edward’s parents were.
A half dozen couples could have been contenders. Several tall, distinguished men, several attractive women with brown hair. But nobody stuck out and then time was up, because Edward was already guiding me to a table occupied by a handsome man who appeared to be in his fifties, still robust and powerful looking. The woman was blonde and statuesque. The moment she looked up, I could see where Edward had gotten his ice blue eyes.
She stood, eyes only for her son. “Edward, darling, it’s been too long.”
Edward kissed her cheek and then nodded at the man I assumed was his father even though they didn’t look anything alike. “Mother, this is Gabriella. Gabriella, this is my mother, Claire.”
Claire shook my hand lightly and I could tell she thought about reaching for a napkin when I let go.
“And now I see what’s been keeping you away.” Her expression was tight.
Edward pulled out her chair and waited until she sat down to kiss her on the cheek again. She patted his cheek and then waved me to the chair next to her. I sat down without assistance and was glad to catch Edward’s wink as he circled the table to sit next to me.
“What a lovely necklace, Claire. May I call you Claire?” I asked.
Claire gave a faint smile and flagged down a waiter without answering my question. “We’ll need one more place setting, please. The three of you are always busy, but at least one of your brothers is able to join us, I hear.”
“I know. He texted me earlier. The more the merrier.” Edward smiled. “It’ll be nice for her to meet more of the family.”
“So, Gabriella, what do you do for a living?” Mr. Rumpelstiltskin or whatever their last name was gave me a pleasant smile.
“I’m an assistant for a writer for a television show, but I’m hoping to write my own someday.” I braced myself for the usual onslaught of comments that followed a pronouncement of a career in the arts.
“So you’re hoping to use Edward’s name to further your own career...?”
I interrupted before Edward was forced to say something to his mother that would make her hate me even more. “Actually, Claire, Edward hasn’t told me much about your family, only that he’s involved in the family business. My interest in him is purely him.”
“She makes it sound like we run a mom and pop shop.” Claire sipped a glass of champagne then dabbed her lips with a white linen napkin.
“Did he take over for you?” I asked the much more friendly face across from me.
“Me?” He looked surprised. “No. I’m actually Edward’s stepfather. You can call me Albert.”
“I’m so sorry! How rude of me,” Edward said. “Albert and my mother have been married for eons. I can’t believe I didn’t introduce you two.”
Albert smiled and waved a hand, like he was used to being forgotten. “Why don’t you tell us about the marriage proposal before you tire of telling the story?”
Edward pulled our joined hands up above the white tablecloth and held up my engagement ring. He squeezed my fingers. “Starlight, champagne, a fountain in the rose garden. I must have done it right because this beauty said ‘yes’.”
Claire shot my emerald cut diamond solitaire a begrudgingly impressed look.
“How did you and Albert meet?” I asked, determined to win her over.
“Albert was the headmaster at the boarding school I wished for my boys to attend. They were still young, of course, but one must be diligent if one wants only the best for their children.” She looked over at her husband. “Of course, once we decided to get married, he had to resign so as to avoid the appearance of favoritism.”
I decided to go with a question that had nothing to do with how odd I thought it was that her husband had to give up his job rather than just sending the kids to another school. “You went to an all-boys boarding school?” I asked Edward.
“One of the finest in the country,” Claire said it like there was no other option. “Where were you educated?”
Her attitude sucked. Arching a brow, I smiled coolly. “Tennessee public schools.”
Her gaze slid to Edward’s. He stared back, his face impassive. After a moment, she smiled a little and began to discuss work.
It took less than a minute to figure out that they were involved in the fashion industry. It took less than five to realize that they just might have a fair hand in controlling
it. My heart started to race and under the table, I twisted my hands over and over around the heavy material of the napkin I’d put in my lap.
Kendra had told me about the executives who could make or break entire collections and countless careers with one phone call. That probably explained why she thought she recognized him, but couldn’t put a name to a face.
The sommelier brought champagne to the table. “Here you are, Mrs. Bouvier.”
My jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, did you just say Bouvier?”
Bouvier…shit. Edward…Bouvier…
my heart was about to jump out of my chest. Lifting my gaze, I stared at him. “I…you…” Shaking my head, I looked around and then said, “Are y’all seriously the
Bouviers
?”
I heard the accent thickening my voice, but I couldn’t even think about that now.
From the corner of my eye, I could see his mother watching me, could see the sommelier fighting not to do the same.
Edward laughed, a sheepish smile on his face. “I told you my last name was quite recognizable.”
“You didn’t tell her your last name?” Claire raised an eyebrow.
Edward’s expression stiffened. “I thought you’d be pleased, Mother. We dated, fell in love, and she agreed to marry me all without knowing I’m a Bouvier.”
“I don’t believe this,” I said, pressing my hand to my forehead.
“Gabriella, are you well?”
The soft question came from the man across from me.
Weakly, I looked at him. “I’m fine, Mr. Bouvier—”
“Albert is
not
Mr. Bouvier. His name is Albert McCreary,” Claire said, her voice pure ice. She stared at me, clearly offended. “When I remarried, I kept my first married name because of the company and my sons.”
I barely heard the final words she said, though…
Coincidence?
Had to be.
McCreary…
No way.
“Hey there, big brother. I hear I’m getting a sister-in-law...”
The familiar voice trailed off as I lifted my head.
He moved around the table, all sexy grace and cadet blue eyes. My future brother-in-law. Flynn McCreary.
Shit.
Pure Lust
Vol. 2
Chapter 1
The sound of that voice froze something deep inside me and I didn't want to look up. I didn't even want to move.
It’s not him,
I told myself.
It’s not him. You’re just hearing things. It’s nerves. It won’t be him…
The silence began to take on that strained, tense feel and I knew I couldn’t avoid looking up any longer, no matter how much I wanted to. I knew who I would find standing in front of me and my empty stomach clenched. I was suddenly very glad I hadn't eaten yet.
I could feel the intensity of that cadet blue gaze and I knew I had to raise my head. I did so slowly, praying that I'd be wrong even though every cell in my body knew I was right.
Flynn McCreary stood in front of me and those wicked eyes all but scorched a path along my skin. For a moment, it was just me and him all over again in his studio and I could all but feel his hands sliding over my flesh, his mouth against mine.
He looked about as stunned as I felt.
Did
I
look that shocked? As though one light brush might knock me back on my senseless ass, even if I was sitting in a chair? I sincerely hoped not since I'd have no reasonable explanation as to why the sight of this man rendered me speechless.
Panic slammed into me. I forced myself to smile as I clamped my hand around Edward's. “This must be one of the brothers,” I said, smiling broadly. It was so fake, felt so unnatural, and it hurt my face just to keep the smile in place, but I didn’t stop.
At least I sounded normal. Although I didn’t understand how it was possible to sound normal when I felt like the roof was caving in and the earth was falling away beneath my feet. This couldn't be happening. My Prince Charming couldn't be related to the villain of the story. Even as I thought it, my writer's mind said that's usually how stories went.
Edward chuckled. “It is. Flynn, I think the only time I’ve ever seen you that silent is when you’ve been focused on getting a woman in front of your camera. Be warned though. Gabriella has already told me she’s tried her hand at modeling and didn’t care for it.”
My cheeks flamed as Edward leaned over and kissed my temple. He slid his arm around my shoulders and I didn't miss the possessive nature of the gesture. He was clearly telling his womanizing brother to stay away.
Flynn’s brows dropped low over his eyes and I saw a storm brewing there. His handsome face was twisted into that scowl I'd seen the first time we'd met.
I swallowed nervously, pulling my hands into my lap and twisting my expensive engagement ring around and around on my finger.
Here it comes…Flynn will tell him and it will all be over.
Odd, wasn’t it? That I felt some small bit of relief? That the thought of everything being out it in the open didn't terrify me?
“Tried your hand at modeling, huh?”
I tensed as Flynn flung himself into the seat across mine, his voice acerbic, eyes now cold and flat. He stared at me as though I was a fly in his soup, a woman he found unappealing. Or a lover he'd thought lacking.
That thought made my cheeks flame even more, and I continued to twist my ring around and around while Edward, unaware of my internal misery, flagged down a passing server.
“Well.” Flynn gave me a thorough, intense looking over and then nodded slowly, as if he’d come to a decision. “Your fiancé is pretty, Edward. I’ll give her that, but the camera doesn’t love just a pretty face. A good model needs...more.”
I flinched as if I’d been slapped.
Edward slid his hand from my shoulders up to my neck, his fingers gently massaging the tense muscles beneath my hair. “Flynn, behave,” Edward said, his voice low. Then he leaned over and brushed his lips across my cheek. “Ignore him. Flynn matured to the age of thirteen and then stopped, mentally, at least. We’ve never been able to figure out what the problem was.”
“Not all of us can be the perfect son, Eddie,” Flynn said. He looked up as a server appeared at his side. “Whisky, a double. Neat.”
While the server asked his preference, Claire Bouvier—my future mother-in-law—made a noise of disapproval.
I went from twisting my ring to twisting my napkin, thankful it was cloth and wouldn't come apart in my hands.
This was turning out to be an even bigger disaster than I could have ever imagined.
Decision made, Flynn nodded at the server and then straightened in his chair, staring his mother down with the same cool stare he’d leveled at me. “Yes, Mother?”
“It’s barely four o’clock.” She glanced around the room with her ice blue eyes, a discreet look, but I imagined she could have told us the names of every important person present. With her perfectly coifed blonde hair and elegant clothing, it was clear that she belonged here. “Must you be drinking this early?”