Are you going to work for your father?
For Jonathan?
Or is your purpose darker? What are they planning to do with you?
And more importantly, what exactly are you? Because she wasn’t an Ichorian or a Hydraian, from what he could tell. For all intents and purposes, she came off as completely human. Which couldn’t be the case at all with her family history and ties to the CRF.
“Oh. I’m working with a kids’ shelter in Lower Manhattan, and I volunteer with one in Harlem, too. That’s where I was last night, but I work for the other full-time.”
“Teaching the underprivileged?” That wasn’t at all what he expected.
“Yeah, I lead their reading and writing programs.”
“Very commendable.” He meant it. “How do George and Lillian feel about it?”
Astasiya’s pulse escalated, his question clearly striking a nerve. She appeared in the doorway, her expression concerned.
“Yeah, they don’t like it much,” Elizabeth replied, nose scrunching. “Oh, hey, Stas.”
Issac smiled. Eavesdropper, he accused with his eyes.
The look she gave him screamed defiance. What are you going to do about it?
He shrugged, not at all bothered. Given the direction of their relationship, he had nothing left to hide.
“Casserole is in the oven,” Elizabeth added.
“Yes, you live with quite the master chef, Astasiya,” he murmured. “I’m impressed.”
Astasiya grinned, approval radiating in her expression. He’d clearly said the right thing, and that pleased him far more than it should.
“Yeah, I sort of love her,” she admitted, giving her roommate a side hug.
“Sort of?” Elizabeth gave her a reproachful look. “You adore me.”
“It’s true,” she agreed.
“My sister would have liked you a great deal,” Issac said, surprising himself with the words, yet meaning them. “She loved cooking and baking.” Amelia spent most days in the kitchen, always entertaining and feeding everyone. His lips actually curled with the thought, astounding him. Usually, thoughts of his sister resulted in pain.
“You have a sister?” Elizabeth asked, brow furrowing.
“I had a sister, yes. It’s not well known.” Because he didn’t contrive his new public image until after her death, and at that point, it wasn’t worth the trouble of painting her backstory.
Elizabeth openly cringed. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. She passed some time ago.” And he certainly didn’t want to elaborate on that right now. He smiled at Astasiya, needing a new topic. “I want to take you somewhere today. Interested?” He wouldn’t exactly accept a negative response, but he’d negotiate as needed.
She cocked her hip against the kitchen table, expression curious. “That depends on where we’re going.”
He could withhold the truth or dance around it, but after last night, he felt compelled to be honest with her. Always. “The Hamptons.”
Her eyebrows rose as Elizabeth nearly dropped the cream she’d just pulled from the refrigerator.
“The Hamptons,” Astasiya repeated. “Why?”
“I’m expecting some friends, and I would like for you to join us.” At her incredulous look, he added, “Might be an informative experience.”
Understanding darkened her gaze. “Friends like the ones I met last night?”
“Similar, but much more hospitable.”
“I assume that means you’ll miss dinner tonight?” Elizabeth directed the question to her roommate.
“Fitzgerald and Watkins dinner,” she translated on a groan. “Don’t we get a reprieve? We just ate with them last weekend.”
“That’s what I said, but my mom said it’s mandatory. For me, anyway, not you.”
Astasiya looked positively pained, her expression falling. “I… I don’t know if I’m ready for another dinner with them. But if you need me to go, Liz, I can.”
“Oh, no.” Elizabeth straightened, her gaze filling with purpose. “You totally go to the Hamptons when Issac Wakefield asks you to go to the Hamptons.” She winced, seeming to remember the man she addressed by full name stood in the room. “Uh, I mean, you should go.”
So much more nonchalant and natural, causing him to smile.
“I agree with Elizabeth,” he said. “When I ask you to go somewhere, you say yes. Beautifully accurate advice.”
Astasiya gave him a look. “Not biased at all.”
“Naturally not, no,” he murmured.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “So, uh, do I just tell them you’re together?”
“I’ve not agreed to go yet,” Astasiya pointed out.
“She means yes,” Issac translated.
“Like in a relationship or just a date?” Elizabeth asked, her focus completely on him.
“Both,” he replied, wishing he could be there to see the look on all their faces at dinner. Maybe he’d ask Mateo to hack into the dining room security feeds, just for a laugh.
“You don’t do relationships,” Astasiya said, her cheeks bright with color.
“I also don’t see a woman more than once, yet here we are,” he pointed out.
“You can’t be serious.”
His lips curled into a taunting grin. “I’m very serious, love.” Especially when it comes to you.
Elizabeth smiled. “So, I can refer to you as her boyfriend, right?”
Astasiya looked positively affronted by the notion. “Seriously—”
“Absolutely,” Issac replied, cutting her off.
She sputtered. “I don’t get a say in this?”
“No.”
Elizabeth squealed and clapped her hands. Her yellow sundress flickered beneath the kitchen lights as she skipped around, her happiness making him smile. Definitely a genuine friendship. And it seemed she approved of him, too.
“Chick flicks and whatever pizza I want for a year,” she announced, pointing a finger at Astasiya and waggling it. “And you have to pay for it all.” Another squeal followed by an impressive ballet move that had Issac really wondering about her history and upbringing.
Where did she learn to dance like that?
“Oh God.” Astasiya’s head fell to the wall behind her as she shook it back and forth. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“Of course I do. I’ve waited six very long years for this moment. Freakin’ finally!”
“What am I missing?” Issac asked, completely enamored by the display between them.
“Oh, please don’t,” Astasiya groaned.
“Stas swore up and down that she would never have a boyfriend. It wasn’t her thing, and she has no interest in her MRS degree.” She used her fingers to quote Stas. “We made a bet that whenever she got a boyfriend, she would let me choose movies and pizza for a year, at her expense. That was how sure she was that she would never date.”
“Hey, I dated.”
“Oh, that Jake guy so did not count. You went home with him after that wedding. That’s not a date. That’s called a hookup.”
Bright splotches of pink painted Astasiya’s features. “Lizzie!”
“Okay, fine, Pete kind of counted. You went out with him twice, but he wasn’t a boyfriend, and you didn’t even sleep with him. And then there was that one guy, uh, Brian? Brandon? Whatever. He lasted for, like, two seconds before you got bored, and then—”
“Oh my God, just stop!”
“Oh, like he cares. He’s a walking tabloid.” Her cheeks reddened. “No offense.”
“No offense taken, darling,” Issac said, his mouth hurting from smiling so much. “However, please, do continue. This is all very enlightening.”
“No,” Astasiya snapped.
“The only other one was that Paul guy who wouldn’t leave you alone, and none of it counted, but you’re finally dating. Like, really dating.” Elizabeth started dancing again.
“I daresay dear Elizabeth is more excited than you are,” he noted.
Astasiya glowered at him. “Oh, I’m just thrilled.” She moved to grab some plates as the timer on the oven sounded, and paused at something resting on the counter.
Issac glanced over her shoulder to read the headline.
Mystery Woman Coaxes Smile from Billionaire Playboy.
He was already laughing before she grumbled, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Oops,” Elizabeth said, grimacing.
Issac plucked the magazine from her hands and tossed it in the bin, where it belonged. “Ignore it, love.”
She gave him a look. “The headline is wrong. You only smiled for show.”
“If that’s what you want to believe, then so be it.” He knew the truth and that was all that mattered. Cupping her face, he pulled her closer, needing an answer. “Now, will you go with me today? Please?”
“To the Hamptons.”
“Yes.”
“To meet more friends.”
He nodded. “You’ll like them. They remind me of you and Owen.”
Her eyebrows lifted at the subtle context underlying his words, and he nodded again at the silent question in her eyes. Yes, they are Hydraians.
“Please, Astasiya?” he asked softly. “Come with me today. You won’t regret it.”
She swallowed, a hint of emotion flickering in her gaze. “Okay,” she whispered.
“Brilliant.” He smiled, pleased. “We’ll go after we finish eating.”
“Okay,” she repeated.
“Go pack a few things,” he added, aware of their audience. “We might stay a few days.”
“What?”
“Trust me.” He couldn’t elaborate in front of Elizabeth. She clearly knew nothing about his world, despite her surroundings, and he wouldn’t change that for her.
Astasiya held his gaze for a beat, more of that emotion spilling through her expression. She finally nodded, agreeing. “I’ll grab a bag.”
Elizabeth stood behind them, the casserole already on a cooling rack. She grinned widely as Astasiya turned.
“Stop gloating, Liz,” she muttered.
“Pretty Woman and a pizza with extra pepperoni. That’s my first order,” she replied.
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“Uh-huh.” Astasiya grabbed her and hugged her tight, her words low as she added, “Call me if you need me tonight. You know I’ll be there.”
Something akin to relief graced Elizabeth’s features, her expression turning somber. “I know. Thanks, Stas. But go have fun. You deserve it.”
“Thank you,” Astasiya replied, leaving the room. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She glanced at him. “With a suitcase.”
He smiled. “Brilliant.”
18
Will You Dance with Me?
Issac hadn’t visited Wakefield Manor in several years, his memories of the grounds tainted by that day in the ballroom.
The day he found Eli’s headless body holding an urn of Amelia’s ashes.
With each approaching mile, the ache in his gut grew stronger. He didn’t want to do this, but the woman beside him required it.
Astasiya remained quiet and unaware in the passenger seat, taking in the summer scenery. The Hamptons were truly gorgeous, with all the manor-style homes and white picket fences. His estate rested on the water, a few streets over. Amelia had loved the beach, spending hours lounging in the sun with Eli at her side.
He swallowed, taking the turns and driving on autopilot.
The familiar gates loomed ahead, a W etched in the middle. He pulled a device from the glove box and clicked the button. The iron moved slowly, opening up the driveway. Usually, he went left at the split to park in one of the garages, but as he had a guest today, he bypassed it for the loop around the fountain in front of the mansion.
Fifteen bedrooms.
Just as many bathrooms.
Several living areas.
A pool house equipped with two pools.
And a guest home.
The abundance of space had been required to accommodate the parties Amelia enjoyed throwing here during the summers, many of the Hydraians choosing to stay overnight. They were just far enough outside of New York City to feel safe, especially with the security system at Issac’s estate—built by Mateo.
He parked in the cobblestone drive outside the front and smiled as Robert opened the French doors. Issac could have phoned ahead with a warning, but he opted to surprise his estate manager instead. The ruddy color on the rotund man’s cheeks said Issac had achieved that goal in spades.
“Welcome to Wakefield Manor,” he murmured, setting his sunglasses on the dash and unbuckling his seat belt.
“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed, her eyes on the oversized windows and brick siding.
While he agreed, he didn’t comment and instead unbuckled his seat belt as his door opened.
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard the gate open,” Robert said, bouncing on his heels just outside the car. “My Cherie is going to be thrilled.”
Issac chuckled and stepped out to shake hands with the much shorter man. “How are the children, Robert?”
“Oh, Rebecca is married and just had a baby, making me a proud granddaddy to an adorable new granddaughter. She inherited all the fairer genes from Cherie’s side of the family, too.”
Issac had listened while walking around the car to open the door for Astasiya. “That’s fantastic, Robert.” He held out a hand for her, which she accepted as she joined him and stood by his side. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well.” The man clasped his hands over his rotund belly. “Whenever we talk, it’s usually about business. Didn’t want to waste your time with family news and all that.”
“You becoming a grandfather is hardly a waste of my time, Robert,” Issac replied, disappointed that he would feel that way.
“Maybe, maybe.” He rocked back and forth with the words. “So, who do we have here?” he asked, his hazel eyes crinkling as he studied the blonde at Issac’s side.
“This is Astasiya Davenport. Astasiya, this is Robert Allmond. He lives here.”
Robert blew a raspberry. “He means I live over there.” He pointed in the direction of the guesthouse near the garages. “Cherie and I just keep up the grounds for Master Wakefield. Speaking of which, I better go tell her you’re here. You know she’s going to expect you to stay for dinner.”
“Yes, I’m expecting company as well. Lucian and likely a few others.”
“Oh!” Robert hopped with excitement. “I’ll ask Shelly to help me ready some of the guest rooms. She’s back from college for the summer.”
Ah yes, the youngest of the Allmond family. “Is she enjoying Duke?” Issac asked, curious.
“Loving it, of course. I’ll make sure she stops by to thank you.”
Issac waved him off. Paying her tuition had been a natural favor. The Allmond family took amazing care of his estate, and he returned the favor in kind. “There’s no need for that, but I would enjoy an update. I haven’t seen her since she was thirteen or so?”
That seemed to calm the man a bit, his hand coming up to scratch his jaw. “Yeah, about that long, huh? I was starting to think the next time I’d see you would be at my funeral.”
“Foolish thoughts.”
“Not for an old man, they’re not.” There was a hint of chastisement in that statement that twisted Issac’s heart. Fair point. “Okay, so four or five rooms will do? Yours as well?”
“I’ll handle mine, but if you wouldn’t mind the others?”
Robert puffed out his chest. “Master Wakefield, I’ve had six years of nothing to do other than keep the dust from settling around here. I do not mind one bit, and you can bet Cherie will feel the same.”
Has it only been that long? It felt like a century had passed since Issac last set foot on these grounds.
“Thank you, Robert,” he murmured.
“My pleasure, sir.” He bowed and scampered off dow
n the driveway.
Issac chuckled after him, shaking his head. He’d missed the jovial man, perhaps more than he realized.
“You have a manservant,” Astasiya said, eyebrows raised. “And apparently a house in the Hamptons you don’t use often. At least I know the tabloids were right about your net worth.”
He snorted. “Hardly, on all accounts.” He tugged her toward the still-open doors of the house. The Hydraians wouldn’t arrive for another hour or so, which gave him plenty of time to change and give her a proper tour.
A twinge of excitement dispelled his unease, the idea of showing off a bit appealing to him far more than it should.
“Uh-huh. So why are we here, again?” she asked, her eyes dancing over the three-story foyer as they entered.
“To meet friends, but first, I need a shower.” If Lucian or Balthazar found him like this, there would be comments galore. Issac never wore the same suit two days in a row, and the stubble across his jaw would certainly indicate his lack of a proper shave. That, he might keep, but the rumpled appearance required replacement.
“Not liking the whole walk-of-shame look?” she teased, a devious twinkle in her gaze. So much better than the dead eyes from last night.
He pulled her close, his lips brushing her ear. “Or liking it too much.”
Her breath hitched, a slight pink creeping into her fair skin. She cleared her throat. “I mean, I guess I can keep myself entertained. Anything off-limits I should know about so I can start there?” Her voice held a sultry edge to it that lit his blood on fire.
He would have her beneath him.
Tonight.
Issac let her see that in his expression as he slowly perused her legs—exposed by her jean shorts—and her clingy tank top. She swallowed as he met her gaze, recalling her question about anything being off-limits.
“Only the master bedroom,” he lied, knotting his fingers in her hair to guide her into a kiss. Fuck, he wanted her now. The last few days had been torture, his need for her escalating by the second. But he had to change first. He traced her lower lip with his tongue, allowing himself one final taste of her before stepping back. “I’ll find you.”
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