Whisper (The Voice trilogy Book 1) (12 page)

I glance at Rhys while he talks with Matthews’ father. I could never fathom a man like him being interested in someone like me, he has traveled the world. I’ve hardly been away from my home town. He is highly educated, well-mannered and refined. I would not use those words to describe myself, even in my wildest dreams. Just as the thought invades, he turns his soft eyes on me and smiles. Completely wiping away whatever was in my thoughts just the moment earlier. The effect he has on me grows with every circle of his fingertip, erasing everything but him and his touch. A quiet sigh escapes my lips and he gently squeezes my hand. I notice Olivia’s father giving me the stink eye from across the room. I reluctantly reclaim my hand from Rhys and gesture
towards Olivia’s parents. He nods mid-sentence and releases me.

“Hi
, Mr. J.”

“Sophie,” his tone is reproachful and parental
, “what took you so long to get over here? You know better than to keep me waiting.” His rosy cheeks and sparkling blue eyes betray his stern greeting. He rises to give me a quick hug and commands me to sit. His short stature in no way a reflection upon his character, he is a giant of a man. He always expected the best, not only from his children, but from all who crossed into his home, and if you were not keeping up he would surely let you know. Never one to mince words, he always tells it straight, even if it hurts. But he does it with love.

“We haven’t seen you in quite a while, Ms. Noelle. What do you think about this wedding? Quite the extravaganza wouldn’t you say? Don’t get me wrong,
Soph, I am not complaining. Lord knows I wanted my girl to find someone who could take care of her, and my little Liv certainly did well for herself, but this is some big time money.” He lifts his empty glass and shakes it at the waiter.

“I went out to Key Biscayne today and saw the house. It is amazing! I know Olivia and Marie are going to love it. Where is Marie anyway?” 

“She is outside, pretending not to smoke. Why don’t you go say hello and drag her ass back in here.” He turns and launches into a conversation with Mark about the superiority of American Football over “soccer” he mocks with finger quotes. 

I find Marie, her slight frame easily hidden behind a tall trellis overgrown with bougainvillea, smoking her cigarette like a rebellious teenager. Ron hates smoking and never lets a chance go by to tell her so, but she continues, much to his dismay. I peek around the flowers and she
exhales a slowly swirling plume of smoke before she grins ear to ear and hugs me, a warm motherly hug.

“I didn’t want to startle you, or for you to think that Ron was sneaking up on you.”

“The man doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body, Sophie, you know that. He would never sneak up on someone. And deny himself the opportunity to announce his arrival? No, he doesn’t sneak. But I do know that he sent you.” Her smile is so warm. She straightens the gardenia blossom behind my ear and scans my outfit for approval. Like mother, like daughter. “You look beautiful, Sophie. You girls are both so grown up.” She chokes just briefly on the last word and I can see her eyes glisten in the moonlight.    

“Oh no, none of that,” I put my arm around her shoulder we head back in. “It is way too early for tears and if you cry I will cry.” I turn to her and grasp her shoulders. “Let’s get a drink, and no crying, not yet.” I wink, she laughs and the tears are on hold. When we walk
into the cellar most have taken their seats. Olivia and Matthew share the head of the table with his parents on one side and Liv’s dad on the other, frantically gesturing towards Margie to join him.                Momentarily flooded with panic, not sure where I belong, I search the room and find Rhys’ soft eyes, calling to me. He winks and pulls out my chair, tipping his taut jaw at me, inviting me to his side. The panic wanes with every step, replaced by hidden glee at his focused attention. He watches my every step as I round the long table, and so does Melissa, her eyes burning a hole in my back. I see Rhys turn his eyes from me to her and they instantly burn with something far more dangerous. His face is like stone and he radiates discontent, but it only seems to affect Melissa, she drops her eyes and turns away. Nobody takes notice of their exchange, but me, and I am shocked by his control over her and his immediate shift in demeanor. He stands and pulls out my chair. In the very next moment I take my seat next to him and he turns that sexy crooked smile on me, every ounce of anger drained away in an instant. 

He puts his warm hand on my bare leg and fireworks ignite over my
skin, leaving a delicate pink flush for all to see. My body hums next to him, on heightened alert. All my senses are aware of him, acutely tuned in to his every movement, every touch. All through the toasts and friendly banter his hand remains, lending a gentle squeeze every once in a while to renew the pale flush he seems to enjoy across my heated flesh. Waiters begin to file into the room with platters. Petit filets and gargantuan rib-eyes move around the table, finding their homes. Not surprising that the two largest steaks are set in front of Mark and Wes. Their eyes bulge like two hungry bears and they compare the girth of their respective slabs of beef.  Matthew’s father watches the boys and shakes his head before whispering something to his wife, who looks horrified by the lack of manners coming from her youngest son. She takes a leisurely sip of her wine and shakes off her husband before replacing her practiced smile.

Matthew stands and says a few words of thanks, professes his love for Olivia, again, and commands us all to eat, drink and be merry. Waiters continue to file in and out of the cellar with shining silver trays lined with ice, crowned with raw oysters, stone crab claws and chilled shrimp. Another procession brings delicate bone china platters with roasted asparagus and truffle fingerling potatoes. 

The gentile crowd digs in as best they can. Talk, eat, drink and repeat. I quietly cut into my filet and listen to the chatter around the table. I briefly catch Kylie and Melissa whispering about Wes, watching him like two hungry lionesses. I feel sorry for him for being on their late night menu, although I cannot imagine that he will protest. Kylie stares at her phone, intermittently tapping away as they giggle and plot until Melissa catches me watching their exchange. I cannot avert my eyes fast enough and she glares at me with ferocious white hot hate. Her eyes quickly drop the instant Rhys turns his attention to me. He brushes his fingers along the inside of my thigh, traveling dangerously close to the fire, I squirm and he stills, turning those emerald eyes on me.

“You are being very quiet, Sophie. Is everything alright?”

“Just watching, and listening.” I love the way his tongue rolls around my name. I can’t help but think of that tongue rolling over my body, smooth like silk teasing and torturing my skin, lighting me up, yes please. As if he could read my mind, he smiles that crooked smile.               

“Oysters?”
He gestures towards the silver tray and the beautifully flawed shells, perfectly shucked, revealing their plump offering of briny, sensual deliciousness. He places two of the shimmering shells on my plate and hands me an oyster fork. “Do you know how to eat oysters?” I answer before my mind has approved the response.   

“Of course I do, I am not completely uncultured.” He stifles a chuckle and squeezes my knee again. 

“Very cute.” I am more embarrassed than proud of my unintentional pun, but I play along and smile in return. I loosen an oyster with the little fork and tip the shell to my lips letting it slip down my throat. Rhys watches me with hungry eyes and then does the same. He licks his lips and hums his approval as I loosen another and slowly slide it into my mouth. I have always enjoyed the buzz I get from oysters. They make my mind and body hum, almost as loudly as Rhys does. The combination of the two may be more than I can handle, but I am willing to take my chances with both. He tosses back another and I do the same. It’s a battle of the mollusks, a battle I wager we can both win. As I tip the last shell to my lips, I see Kylie’s eyes grow wide as she stares at her phone. She tips her head to Rhys and hastily pushes her chair out, the heavy wood scraping horrendously on the cold stone floor. She makes her way around the table and whispers something to Rhys.

“Sophie, please excuse me.” He pushes his chair out almost as quickly and is gone before I can reply. The work of the best man and maid of honor are never done apparently. I turn back to my plate and the table. No one seems to have taken note of their departure, with the exception of Melissa, who wears an expression of sheer glee as she sips from her wine glass. Ten minutes later Rhys quietly slides back into his chair. His mouth set in a hard line as he winks and takes a long sip of his wine. The air around him is tight, his fingers rigid around his wine glass.
             

“Everything OK?”
I ask, wondering what sort of wedding business could elicit such tension.

“Yes, all is well. I’m sorry to have left you.” He rests his free hand on my thigh and the fireworks reignite under my skin. His fingers splay across my bare flesh. The feeling is intense, as if the weight of the world is in his fingertips. His warmth spreads slowly across my skin, under my skin and I am rendered speechless by his hand sliding like silk across my flesh.
He breeches the hem of my skirt, his fingers ringing in my blood, leaving trails of searing heat in their wake. The hint of a smile crosses his lips and he knows exactly what he is doing. His eyes twinkle in the candlelight as the edge fades from his face and my heart breaks into a sprint as my breath gets shallow and labored.

The last hour passes in a haze of oysters, toasts and strong, warm fingers stroking my thigh. His other hand wound behind me, fingers grazing my neck every so often, keeping me alert and humming. By the time we are waiting for the elevator my head is buzzing, my body is loose, and my tongue even looser. I turn to Rhys feeling confident and sexy thanks to his sensual attention and casual manner. Adrenaline surges through me, propelling me towards what I know I have wanted since I first set
eyes on him, I want him wrapped around me. But he says nothing, he stays stiff and faces forward, not even offering me a sideways glance as I open myself up, offering what he asked for. He just stands there, and I freeze.  

Chapter 8 

The elevator doors slide open. Grabbing my hand with promising ferocity, Rhys tugs me inside. Before the doors close, he has me pinned against the glass, a hand easily wound around my wrists, trapping them behind my back, holding me still. 

“You are very eager.” He presses his hips into me and his lips cover mine in an instant, kissing me with a pent up passion. There’s the electricity I was hoping for, coursing along the edge of my body, searing in my veins. He takes the opportunity to explore my mouth, his tongue dipping in, swirling and retreating. Over and over, his tongue swirls and retreats as he sucks on my bottom lip and plants soft kisses on my greedy mouth. His lips are rhythmic and hypnotic, I am utterly afloat in his arms as he kisses me fiercely again, crushing my lips harder this time before an erotically pained growl quietly rumbles through both of us and he abandons me, pressing the button, sending the elevator upward. Meeting my pulse beat for beat, floor for floor as we soar towards heaven, and my room. His chest falls with the release of a deep and ragged breath. He grabs my hand and draws painfully slow circles on my palm, twisting my flesh, charging every nerve.

“I am going to do things to you that will make you forget your name,” he whispers, “but not tonight.” And my heart stops. “I am sorry to say that something has come up that will not be ignored.” He holds my hand, drawing circles on my palm as we walk silently to my door. He turns to me, hunger brimming in his eyes. His hands are in my hair twisting and pulling me towards him, bringing my lips to his, covering me with such gentle ease. He licks and moves to a rhythm he creates, our mouths a perfect union of twisted tongues and bitten lips. Everything falls away with each flick of his tongue, and there is nothing but the two of us, dancing in an inferno. I am lost in his hands while his mouth invades at such a leisurely pace. He rolls his hips against me, pressing me against the wall. My head swims in his arms and I think he is lost to me, too. He sighs as he kisses, softly yet, each kiss softer than the last until we are staring into one another’s eyes, ablaze, and transfixed. I couldn’t turn away if I wanted to. The building could be burning around us and I would not care, the hotel could crumble at our feet and there would be nothing but Rhys looking at me like that, like he wants to devour every inch of me. He closes his eyes and catches a breath before slowly backing away. “Until tomorrow.” He winks, and my libido melts to the floor.

I am dumbfounded, speechless and strung out. Did he really just kiss me like that and leave me standing here? Trapped in a vacuum, my heart is racing. When I open my
eyes, he is sauntering down the hallway. I fill my lungs with the breath he left behind and fumble for my key. My senses splattered across the hallway. I flip the light on and flop down on the bed, seething from his kiss. The room swirls with a different air from this morning. It is charged and hot. All the way to my toes, his lips reverberate, pounding in my blood. My mind hovers, still high above, hardly able to look down upon me, sitting alone on my bed. This is not how I saw this evening playing out. I thought for sure he would be making me purr by now, instead a ferocious need crawls across my skin, clawing at me. I need to feel him, his weight, his touch. Maybe this is all part of his seduction. Part of his need to keep within the parameters that he has set, to maintain control.