The Deal (Arranged Book 1)

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The Deal (Arranged Book 1) Page 2

by Stella Gray

We resumed, dancing closer to the mystery man. He seemed to be focused on the gentleman in front of him—an older, leaner, grayer version of himself. I couldn’t tear my gaze away, desperate for the younger man to look in my direction.

  Finally—finally—he looked up. His eyes were green.

  Not just any green. A pale shade, like sunlight through leaves, a color you’d call…viridescent. From the Latin viridis. So striking against his warm skin tone.

  And then our eyes caught.

  I felt my pulse quicken under his gaze. I wasn’t usually one to bask in the attention of strangers, but amid the sea of black and white eveningwear, I knew I was impossible to ignore.

  In my shimmery blue dress and diamond earrings, I was meant to give the impression of an American princess, down to the tiara in my upswept hair. My skin glowed, my makeup natural except for a dark red lipstick; a concession from my father. The lipstick made it clear that I was a woman now. I hoped the green-eyed man had noticed.

  Over McDonnell’s shoulder, I could see him still looking my way. My skin tingled.

  Who was he?

  Feeling bold, I murmured an apology and pulled away from the congressman mid-step, making my way toward the man even as I tottered a little in my silver satin heels. There had to be a way to meet him. He was here for a reason; my father never invited people to events like this unless he needed something from them.

  Across the room, the man abruptly turned his back to me as his companion grabbed his arm in emphasis. I halted in the crowd, my pulse still pounding in my ears.

  How was he having this effect on me? It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been around attractive men before. As a politician’s daughter, I’d rubbed elbows with celebrities of all sorts—actors, musicians, artists. None of them had ever made me breathless the way this stranger did.

  I’d had crushes, too—fleeting moments of infatuation with the older brothers of school friends or the college-age baristas at Starbucks—but this felt completely different. The source of those previous crushes had been boys. Whoever this guy was, he was a man.

  I shivered.

  Forcing myself to act casual, I feigned interest in the orchestra. The last thing I wanted was for him to look back and discover I was still staring at him like he was my birthday cake. I might not have been very experienced with men, but I knew they appreciated a chase.

  “There you are!” Michelle said, sweeping up behind me to take my arm. “Daddy needs you.”

  I spotted my father as we headed over. As always, his posture was upright, his presence commanding. The gray streaks in his hair gave him a look of authority and experience. We had the same steel blue eyes, the same headstrong nature. Of course, I kept mine hidden beneath a veneer of docility. I’d learned from a young age that if I really wanted something, I had to play the good girl. Make my father think it was his idea all along.

  We came upon him speaking with a colleague, and I presented my cheek for a kiss.

  “And the princess arrives,” my father announced. “Are you excited about your gift?”

  “Very much so,” I said. “I can’t wait.”

  He smiled at me, and I felt a rush of joy and pride. Our arguments about college lately had been dredging up all the old fears: that I wasn’t the kind of daughter he wished he had. But in that moment, things between us felt exactly right.

  “First things first,” he said, turning me to face his guest. “Tori, my dear, have you met Congressman Ellis?”

  “It’s an honor.” Ellis took my hand and placed a kiss on top of it. His gaze however, remained fixated on my cleavage.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said politely.

  Enduring Ellis’s roving eye was all part of the job.

  He and my father picked up their conversation where they’d left off—something about a new committee they were both serving on. I tried to tactfully drift away, but Michelle held me fast. It was also part of the job to smile and nod.

  I loved my father and I knew he was doing good, important things. If dressing up and being polite helped him win elections, then I was happy to play my part. But I still dreamed of breaking free, of doing something more with my life.

  College would give me a chance to get out into the world, and beyond the opportunity to nerd out on linguistics to my heart’s delight, I’d also, finally, be able to explore other currently-uncharted territories…of a more personal nature.

  That’s why I was so anxious about my gift. It could change everything.

  Unable to help myself, I glanced back across the room at the dark-haired man in his perfect tux. Yep. Still gorgeous.

  He was looking at me again, too. His eyes were like flames, flickering and hot. Everything inside of me felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.

  I might have been a virgin, but I wasn’t a prude. I had a vibrator. I’d paid attention when Grace or the girls at my lunch table had gossiped about their sexual exploits. And I knew what it felt like to steal kisses, even if they’d only been from the prep school boys that were invited to our chaperoned dances by the academy’s principal. But up until now, all of my experiences had been exploratory. They didn’t mean anything except a little fun for the moment. Though it wasn’t like I was missing out—I’d never met anyone in real life that inspired the kind of reckless, aching want that I imagined was possible.

  Not that I would have been allowed to pursue those feelings even if I had felt them. My father had a strict no-dating policy, one I was planning to challenge now that I was eighteen. An adult, I reminded myself again. My own woman. And if I was away at college, there’d be no stopping me.

  “Are you enjoying your party?” Ellis asked, jarring my thoughts with a hand to my arm.

  “Ah, yes. My father has been very generous with me.” I didn’t love that this guy was touching me, and his stare made it obvious he thought I looked good enough to eat. When I tried to inch away, he moved in closer. My father, meanwhile, had turned to speak with someone else.

  “I hear you’re quite the little dancer,” Ellis said.

  “How lovely of you to say!” Michelle cooed, edging in next to me and pouring on a fatal dose of the southern charm. “By the way, have you spoken with Congressman McDonnell tonight? His head is just bursting with ideas about alternative fuels and I don’t know what.”

  “That man is uncivilized,” Ellis said sourly.

  “Then we’ll have to challenge him to a duel! Isn’t that him, over by the punch?”

  She took his arm and made to drag him away, shooting me a conspiratorial wink. Michelle was very good at this.

  “Actually,” my father said, stepping in to block Ellis, “I’m sure Victoria would love to dance with you first.”

  “Wonderful!” Michelle chirped, shooting me an apologetic look.

  “Of course I would,” I said, accepting the hand Ellis offered. I knew what was expected of me. And I’d done this before. Forcing a smile, I let him lead me back out onto the dance floor.

  He was a passable dancer, but his eyes stayed glued to my chest even as we made small talk. I couldn’t help wishing, just once, that a man would ask me to dance because he wanted to get to know me better, not just ogle me. And I knew exactly which man I’d wish for.

  I craned my neck, looking for him in the crowd, but the congressman kept twirling me every time I thought I’d caught a glimpse.

  Beyond that, I was completely distracted by nerves. What if I was wrong about my big surprise? It could just as easily be a new car, or a posh vacation. Not that I wouldn’t be grateful…but those things wouldn’t help me build a life. I loved my father, but I knew he didn’t understand my obsession with studying linguistics. Nobody did.

  “Those classes are going to be so boring, Tori. And you know you’ll never do anything with that degree, right?” Grace had constantly ragged me during our study sessions.

  But she was wrong, on both counts. I’d never get bored in a class that explored the link between language and humor, or one that broke down
the difference between ‘bullshit and lies’ (I’d read all about it on the UChicago website). And who wouldn’t be interested in learning about the culture of the Deaf community, or psycholinguistics? Plus, while the degree was something I needed on a soul level, I was also considering a career in academia—so it’s not like my studies would be totally useless. Grace was set to inherit a billion-dollar designer handbag empire someday, but I wanted to forge my own path. Politics may have been in my blood, but they weren’t in my heart.

  Finally the congressman led me off the dance floor, his hand pressing at the small of my back, a little too close to the curve of my rear. He dropped that hand the moment my father came into view, though. He was still standing with my stepmother, but someone new had joined them.

  The mystery man.

  My heart jumped into my throat. Up close, he was even more striking—those green eyes sharply intelligent and assessing. This was a man who missed nothing. But what did he see when he looked at me? I was so captivated that I barely noticed Ellis departing from the group.

  “Victoria, darling,” my father said, taking my hand between both of his. “Remember how I told you I had a surprise for you this evening?”

  I nodded distractedly, my attention still fixated on the man. He had the most incredible lips, full and sensual. They were set in a firm line, though. One that made his expression inscrutable. I had no idea what he was thinking.

  “Well. Here it is,” my father said, gesturing expansively with one of his arms.

  “Where?” My eyes darted around the room, but I saw no UChicago banners in white and maroon, no cake with a tuition check popping out of it, not even a scrap of wrapping paper. I looked back at my father. He was grinning broadly.

  “Right here,” he said, clapping the mystery man on the back. “This is your present, Tori—meet your future husband, Stefan Zoric.”

  Tori

  Chapter 2

  I found myself unable to speak, temporarily struck aphonic—from the Greek aphonos, without sound. Words had always been my salvation and now…nothing. All I felt was the blood draining from my face, my mouth falling open as I tried to process what my father had just said.

  Husband?

  Husband?

  There was no possible way I had heard that correctly. It had to be a joke.

  I forced a small laugh, but no one joined in. Everyone was staring at me, their faces expectant. My father was still grinning. The handsome stranger—my new fiancé, ostensibly—wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. He looked…inquisitive. Like he was gauging my reaction.

  But he didn’t look surprised.

  In fact, no one did. Instead, they all seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

  “My…husband?” I somehow managed.

  “Congratulations! And happy birthday!” My father put his arm around me and gave my shoulder a squeeze.

  I gaped at him.

  “Mitch.” My stepmother stepped closer to both of us, then lowered her voice to a respectful whisper. “You didn’t tell her first? What were you thinking?”

  Finally, someone else was as shocked as I was.

  Except, not for the same reason. Michelle had known what was going on. They had all known. All of them except for me. The person who was supposed to be getting married.

  “I was thinking it would be more fun this way,” my father said, sounding a little put out. “It’s a surprise.”

  Michelle’s frown was brief and just for us. And then immediately it was gone, the furrow between her brows smoothed out, and she turned to my new fiancé with a warm smile.

  “Welcome to the family, Stefan,” she said, reaching out toward him.

  “Thank you.” The handsome stranger took her hand and bowed slightly as he clasped it between his own, his bearing as regal as a fairytale prince. Even in my shock, I couldn’t help but be charmed. Just a little.

  Then he turned that charm directly on me.

  God, was I in trouble.

  His smile made my knees literally go weak, those full, gorgeous lips curving into a secret promise of…something. Something good. Then he took my hand firmly in his, drawing it toward that tantalizing mouth, and pressed a kiss to my knuckles.

  His lips were hot, their warmth spreading through my entire body as his eyes met mine. When he turned my hand over to place another kiss on the soft skin of my inner wrist, I had to drop my gaze. It was like I could feel that kiss between my legs.

  “Victoria Lindsey,” he said softly, finally releasing me. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  Was it just my imagination or had he put a small emphasis on pleasure?

  I shivered. I’d been overwhelmed by surprise and shock, but now I felt arousal, too. Bodily, chemical attraction, beyond the initial appreciation of his face and figure from before. It hit me hard, and I found it difficult to look away.

  Stefan. Even his name sounded exotic and like the promise of something new. Something different. It was also familiar. Or at least, his last name was.

  “Zoric—are you related to Konstantin Zoric? The owner of KZ Modeling?”

  Something shifted in his gaze, but Stefan nodded. “My father. It’s a family business.”

  Of course I’d recognized the name. KZ managed some of the hottest models in the country, possibly in the world. The company was in the headlines frequently.

  My head was spinning. I stood frozen, a Barbie doll, stiff and still in my gown.

  “Stefan, will you excuse us for just a minute?” Michelle cut in, wearing her perfect hostess smile. “I think we could use a moment alone.”

  “Of course,” my fiancé said. My fiancé. It gave me a shock just thinking the word.

  My father frowned at her. “They’re just now getting acquainted. It can wait.”

  “I think you and Tori need to have a little father-daughter discussion first? In private,” she said, subtly shooting him a look. It was one she rarely used—as she never contradicted my father in public—but it worked.

  “Please, go. I’ll be waiting.” Stefan gave a discreet nod and backed off, giving us space.

  Taking my elbow, Michelle led me to the small parlor adjacent to the ballroom. My father followed. It was quiet and secluded, and my stepmother furtively pressed a glass of champagne into my underage hand before shutting the door so the three of us could be alone.

  I sipped the drink, then downed the rest in one gulp. Reality was beginning to sink in.

  My father had arranged a marriage between me and Stefan. A man I had never met before. That was my birthday surprise. Not college. Not tuition. Marriage. I was being given away.

  The heat that had spread through me at Stefan’s touch had dissipated, and now I was cold. Goosebumps rose on my bare arms and I resisted the urge to shiver. I wanted to wrap my arms around myself, but I knew the body language would make me look like a bratty little girl throwing a tantrum, and I wanted my father to take my next words seriously.

  “I thought you’d be pleased,” he said. He spread his hands, looking genuinely baffled. “You knew this was coming.”

  “I did, but…” How did he not understand that I’d been completely blindsided by this?

  “He’s handsome enough, isn’t he? Rich. Well-connected. He has an MBA from an Ivy League school, for god’s sake,” he continued.

  “He is an exceptional young man,” my stepmother agreed. “I think Tori was just taken off-guard by the arrangement.” She gave me an encouraging look. “Weren’t you, darling?”

  I managed a nod, knowing that Michelle was doing me a kindness in helping me navigate this confusion and surprise with some grace.

  Because any fleeting hope I’d had that this was a joke was long gone now. Even though Michelle had stood up for me, rescuing me from the humiliation of having this discussion in public, it was clear that she wasn’t going to contradict my father’s decision about my future.

  Except, it was my future. I was eighteen now. An adult. I didn’t have to marry Stefan.


  Did I?

  I had to admit, I was completely dependent on my father for everything. I’d never had a job beyond my volunteer work and community service, had never earned money of my own. Everything I had came from him. I’d always known there were strings attached.

  I just hadn’t realized the strings would be this major. This life-changing. This soon.

  “Why Stefan?” I asked. “He’s not from a political family. This doesn’t make sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense. These are exactly the kind of people we need in our inner circle,” my father said, tugging on his cuffs, as he did when he was feeling impatient.

  “How so?” It was obvious he didn’t want to explain, but I needed him to. Surely he had his reasons. He never did anything without endless hours of planning and decision-making.

  Michelle cleared her throat. “Tori, the Zorics are wealthy and generous, and they have a vast network of influence. The bond your marriage will create between their family and ours will be essential for your father at reelection time next year. Do you understand?”

  I nodded my comprehension, feeling numb. Of course. It all came down to hefty campaign contributions and securing the maximum number of votes.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. My father was facing a tough batch of rivals next year and needed all the help he could get. This was the help he was turning to. No doubt the Zorics would be an invaluable asset.

  “You should consider yourself lucky,” my father said. “This guy’s a catch! Men like Konstantin and his sons are surrounded by beautiful women every day. Stefan could have chosen any number of brides, but he agreed to marry you. He’s making a sacrifice too.”

  That stung.

  “This is all just…happening so fast,” I murmured. “What if it’s a mistake?”

  “Don’t be childish, Victoria,” my father snapped, losing patience. “I saw the way you looked at him. You were practically undressing him with your eyes. You’re clearly halfway in love already. This is a win-win.”

  It was a little embarrassing that my father could read my interest so plainly. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing some piece of the puzzle. Even if I was intrigued by the possibility of being married to a man like him—powerful, confident, with a jaw that could cut glass—what did Stefan stand to gain? Our fathers’ interests were more than clear…but what about my fiancé’s?

 

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