by Amarie Avant
Raven got out of bed to that thought. She was petrified, but glad Sharon understood that she wasn't going to hurt Liam, no matter what. They'd parted ways making arrangements to meet for happy hour the following Thursday, and Raven was glad there'd be no more talk of screwing him over.
While she brushed her teeth, the doorbell rang. Descending the stairs, she rubbed her hand over her rumpled PJ shirt, noticing a cream-colored car through the living room glass. An expensive, old money car, unlike Liam’s flashy rides.
She opened the heavy, carved-wood door with both hands to a woman with white-blond hair and green eyes. Her eyebrows rose at the lady’s extravagant mauve gown with embellished neckline.
“Wait a minute.” Raven’s eyes dimmed in uncertainty, and then widened. “Are you, are you … You are DuPont’s masterpiece. His muse!”
“Yes, I am. Most people know the model, not the photographer. And even more people know me by name, Estella Delacroix.”
Her jaw dropped as Estella pulled her into a hearty hug. She had the same emerald eyes as the Ice Queen, but her platinum-blond hair wasn't a blunt cut. Raven was also shocked that floral perfume lingered at her nostrils when the woman pulled away. “I …”
“You’re Raven Shaw.” Estella patted her back. “And you, my dear, have impeccable taste in photography.”
“When you did that pose in the 60s, the one where you bent backwards and …” Raven had to admit she was the first woman with a French accent that she didn’t automatically dislike. “Liam never told me he was related—”
“I’m his grand-mère, but he doesn’t like me all that much.”
“Where are my manners? Come in.” Raven moved to the side, noticing a chauffeur taking mounds of luggage out of the trunk. He placed them just inside and the canvas luggage stacked almost as tall as the bonsai tree. Estella bid him farewell, then turned back to Raven, tapping a finger to her lips.
“You’re too petite to be a model. Nonetheless, you know great photography so it’s safe to assume that you’re of like spirits?” Estella linked arms with Raven as she stared at the luggage in bewilderment. “Let’s leave this to Liam. Point me in the direction of the kitchen. We’ll have refreshments, and you can tell me all about your photography. How does that sound?”
Raven started the espresso machine as Estella went into the pantry and came out with a fresh baguette. They sat down at the table with warm sliced bread and steaming cups.
“Tsk, tsk, we’ve both overlooked the necessities. I’ll get the marmalade. Go, grab your portfolio.” With poise, Estella whisked toward the sub-zero refrigerator.
Raven hurried upstairs. She wanted—no she needed—this critique. In her room, she pulled her leather-bound portfolio out of her backpack and hurried downstairs.
“This is the best espresso I’ve ever had.” Estella set the cup on the table and took the portfolio.
Squirming in her seat, Raven watched her take in each image. Estella stopped on the photographs of the tattoo model, Calum. “Beautiful specimen. Your emotions have transformed over the course of these photos. You’ve evolved.”
Smiling, Liam pulled into the driveway. Raven had called him earlier with a surprise, right after Tyriq had found Lucinda—alive.
“Your mother forged the letters that she gave to you and Raven, and the DNA results were a hoax. I’m so sorry …” Lucinda confirmed what he already knew, and he couldn’t wait to tell Raven.
“Mommy’s home early!” Royael cheered as they walked through the side door.
His eyebrows came together as he noticed mountains of suitcases. What type of surprise did she have in mind bearing enough Louis Vuitton luggage for a small army? Then he looked up into Nana’s eyes!
Estella drew him into an excited embrace; he half-heartedly returned the favor, patting her back. Raven stood on the bridge with a Cheshire grin. “Your grandma’s here; surprise!”
“What a surprise it is.” Sarcasm poisoned his enthusiasm, and he couldn’t help but notice Estella’s cheeriness.
“Liam, I need your help with something, then we can go to dinner.” Raven didn’t wait for his response, disappearing down the hall.
Feeling a Chihuahua-scolding coming on, he started for the stairs as his grandmother told Royael that she had a gift for her. “It’s haute couture. Do you know what that means?”
“Nope.”
“It means that nobody in the world will ever have the same beautiful dress as you.”
“Yay!” Royael clapped her hands.
Everybody is excited about this woman but me. He walked into Raven’s room and shut the door. She sat on the couch with her hands folded at her lap. The yellow summer dress she wore made the brown flecks in her blue eyes turn gold. Her glossy pink lips pulled into a pout. He decided to look at the top of her head, too angry to let her pretty face control him.
“Liam, that wasn’t nice.”
“I didn’t know Estella was coming.” Stuffing his hands in slate-gray slacks, Liam stopped at the window and stared at the sunset peeking through the trees.
“You barely hugged your nana. She loves you and talked about you all day.”
“You don’t get to call her Nana.” He turned back to look at her, seeing the anger in her tensed shoulders. He didn’t care. He should’ve been giving her the news from Lucinda and recommencing their previous festivities. “Why does she have all that luggage?”
“Estella’s staying here until the grand opening in Santa Monica.”
He rubbed a finger to his brow, staving off a headache. “Who said so? I didn’t.”
“Be nice. Estella told me that you and your grandfather bullied her around—well, not you really; your grandfather bullies her around and you let him. Why don’t you take up for your na–grandma?”
He looked into befuddled eyes. “You of all people know how she treated me as a child. The torment that I went through living in France before high school doesn’t jog your memory?” Don’t you care?
Raven walked to the dresser and plucked a picture from the mirror. “Look at this photo.”
He glared at a picture of a shorter, fatter version of himself in front of Cheateu de Estella, holding hands with Nana. Over ten years ago. The day was a vague memory, but it looked like the time he left at the age of fourteen. I was overweight, and she hated me for it … but we looked like we were having a good time. The picture didn’t make since. He’d remember her calling him fat and forcing him to only speak French until he spoke fluently. And he did recall the feel of aching cheeks after she’d pinched them.
He set the picture back on the dresser and noticed a realtor listing. His jaw instantly tensed. You’re moving? That was his cue to leave.
“Pierre seems to have alienated your grandma,” Raven said, watching him walk to the door.
“Don’t talk about my grandfather. You don’t know him, so you have no say.”
“I know your nana! In one day, I’ve learned more about her than I ever knew about anyone else in your family! Elise or Jonathan. All I can say is, I know her. I like her. She’s staying. Get ready, we’re going to dinner.”
They made their way around the dark, heavy-wood steakhouse. The server waved a hand at a booth. Royael sat. Liam began to sit, but she placed her hand on the leather cushion. “No, Daddy, I want Grandma to sit next to me.”
“Get over yourself, Liam.” Raven rubbed his shoulder as he slid inside the booth next to her. “You’ll live. I did, after Royael treated me the same way when you came around.”
Her touch almost soothed his brewing irritation. He wriggled his tense jaw; it had been set since he’d learned of her house hunting. He had the attention span of a three-year-old, contemplating Raven’s realtor listings as Estella told “happy stories” of his childhood visits to France. Drinking cognac, he crunched on ice and tuned out Royael’s delight of the “stories”.
That night, Royael wanted her great-grandmother to put her to bed. Raven linked arms with him as they ambled into the house, let
ting the two run ahead. “You did well.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” his replied.
She kicked off her sandal wedges and stood on a suede footstool in the living room, a smidge below eye level with him. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she said, “I remember what you told me about Estella, but just take this time to love her. Okay, buddy?”
“I do love her.”
The next move came so natural. His eyes closed as she touched the back of his neck, like she’d done so many times when they were together. Her massage overwhelmed Liam’s senses. He almost didn’t hear her words.
“… start over with Nana.”
Tension gone and no longer feeling the delicate caress, Liam opened his eyes as she patted his shoulder. Before he could say anything, she jumped down and hurried up the stairs.
At the coffee shop, Raven made herself a triple-pick-me-up as the night dragged on. She’d helped Cassidy primp for a hot date. After her friend left, customers wandered in from nearby clubs, or an occasional diehard bookworm trickled in.
“It’s ten minutes ‘til three. I’m closing soon,” she reminded a guy with a mop of frizzy hair that always typed the night away while guzzling mugs of coffee. Standing at the counter, she yawned extra-loud. He glanced up from his laptop, and then typing engulfed her ears once again.
Frowning, she turned and went through the swinging door to put away the last load of pastry racks. A chime sounded, indicating that the guy left. Locking the back doors, she cringed when the chime sounded again. Should’ve locked the front first, but Carrot Top wouldn’t leave! I’m so tired. She gripped the keys tightly, hurrying through the swinging doors. “I’m closing! Please—”
Voice caught, she stopped as the door swung back and pushed her forward. Liam’s hands were stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. He stared at the black and white photos on the walls. He didn’t address her as he moved to another photo of a cup of coffee with cream zigzagged through it. Finally, he turned to Raven.
Why are you here? “You like the photos?”
“Yeah,” he replied, eyes still on the pictures.
“I took them.”
“Are these the first you’ve sold?”
“I didn’t sell them. Sometimes people do things for pleasure and not to turn a profit.” Instead of locking herself in the store with him, she put the keys on the counter and picked up a dishrag. All the tables were clean, but she had to keep moving, no longer sleepy.
“You’ve given me an idea.” Liam watched as she flitted about in no clear order.
“What?” She squirted disinfectant spray and wiped until the counter was a reflection of her sudden neatness frenzy.
“I’ll open a photography gallery in Chicago. That’s the next hotel in creation. I’ll have the blueprints revised at once.”
“Good for you.” The table was soaked, and sanitizer dripped from the nozzle of the bottle to her knuckles.
“What if I want to use some of your work?”
“Why?” Raven’s eyes went up to Liam’s broad shoulders. She hadn’t noticed him standing right before her. Trying to hide her surprise, she moved to another table. Keeping Liam in the corner of her eye, she wondered when he’d leave. I’ve almost re-cleaned all these tables.
“Why not? What if you become a famous photographer? It’s more economical to purchase your work now, as opposed to waiting. I loved the photo we did that night …”
Raven watched his lips move as he referred to them as “we”.
“I didn’t come here for that. We’ll discuss those dynamics later.” Liam blocked her path as she tried to pass him on her way toward the last table he hadn’t seen her clean. “You’ve been avoiding me. What was that in the hallway when we got home? It seemed you’d let your guard down.”
A regret. “A pep talk.” Raven backtracked and went polish-psycho on another clean table. When finished, her heart nearly dropped as Liam was still there, still waiting. She yawned for good measure. “Let me finish so we can go home. I’m sleepy, okay?”
He shrugged and leaned against a table. Hoping the determination in Liam’s eyes would wash away, Raven started on the cash register counter. The coffee shop was as clean as she’d ever seen it. Cassidy’s father might get leery and think she wanted a raise, but she couldn’t stop. The coffee mug clock showed that he’d watched her work for over twenty minutes. “The sugar and spice station!” She walked to the trolley, rearranging the sugar and cinnamon then moved the brown sugar. Her hands were on the pumpkin spice when he spoke.
“You’ve been trying to take away my control.”
She put down the pumpkin spice. I have not!
“Taking me out of my element.” His deep voice was creamier than the finest vanilla. “What you don’t know is, I haven’t been in control since you walked into my office.”
Again, she picked up the pumpkin spice, bit her lip, and considered putting it amid the nutmeg and orange spice.
“Will you turn around, so we can properly communicate?”
Raven did and leaned against the counter, wringing the cloth in her hands. Liam sat on a table further away, but his honey eyes were searching hers for a reaction. A reaction that she refused to give. Hope was useless, it was best not to care.
He hopped off the table. In a few strides, he stood inches away, looking down at her. “Do you still love me?”
Blue eyes sliding to the floor, her legs had already gone weak and her brain was fried, too. If only she could reach out and steady herself against him. No. She leaned back against the trolley with nowhere else to go.
“Liam, we’re half-brother and sister, so just stop,” she snapped, to keep from crying. Moving past him with a blur of tears in her eyes, her legs were heavy, and her heart was so heavy that it had turned traitor to her brain. Sleep deprivation sparked forbidden love. Her insides warmed as he stood behind her, his breath caressing her neck.
“I spoke with Lucinda.” He kissed her shoulder. His hand tingled at the nape of her neck, danced around to her shoulder, and then he pushed her hair to the side. Liam’s arms snaked around her and she molded around them. “They falsified the DNA test between you and my father—”
Me and Jonathan … Please stop …
Breath shallow, she could barely hear for her pounding heart. His kisses teased her skin, making her dizzy. In a last effort to save herself, she took her fingers and pried his from around her waist.
“Stop!” She glared at him with tears in her eyes. At that moment, she had him exactly where he needed to be.
“We can be together.” Liam’s thick eyebrows came together.
She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her entire life. But fear triumphed. “I have to lock up.”
Raven swiveled on her heels and went through the swinging doors to do one last inspection. When she returned, he was gone. On the center table laid the antique spoon ring he had made a promise with to her with, when they were younger, dumber. He’s been in my room. She stepped toward it. There was a napkin with the words your choice scribbled on it. She balled it up and threw it in the trash.
27
The sun peeked over the horizon as Raven pulled in front of the glass house. Body, mind, and soul drained, she walked over the bridge and to the front door. She inserted the key, wondering if she could fully be happy with Liam’s recent revelation. It took all of her strength to push the door open and step inside. The glass walls were shrouded in darkness, and all she wanted was the light of the sun to warm her mood.
“What did you choose?” Liam’s deep voice broke through the steel gloom.
She stuck out her hand. The spoon ring graced her finger. In one fluid motion, he scooped her up. Her arms went around his neck and her lips sought his. Though it was a rather cold spring morning, kissing him felt like submerging into summertime. Love that was once in hibernation sprang to life as every fiber in her being shuddered to his touch, his warmth, his scent.
He growled against the sweet s
cent of her neck, which sparked a liquid fire in her nether regions.
“Hurry,” she commanded in a seductive, primal tone as he carried her up to his room. With ravenous lips, she almost cried out as he laid her down. There was a look of madness on Liam’s face; he searched her romper to take it off. Before Raven could assist, his big hands tore at the shoulder straps, and it dropped to the floor.
Pulse rising, Raven yanked on Liam’s belt as he pulled off his shirt. She pushed at his pectorals-of-steel until he sat back on the bed with a naughty grin. His hands gripped her waist and slid her on top of him. In-between kissing, he whispered in her ear, in English and presumably Italian as her hands trailed down his taut muscles. Addicted, she couldn’t get enough as her lips dawdled over the veins in his thick cock. Her warm breath made the big, strong man bite his lip and groan obscenities.
Raven took in as much of his erection as she could, desiring the flavor of his seed in her mouth. She yearned for the taste of his power.
After minutes of torment, Liam grabbed a fist of her hair, tugging softly as he declared what he needed. She crawled back up, straddling him.
“No, come here.” Liam grabbed Raven by the waist and she climbed up more. Her knees planted on either side of his head. As she gripped the headboard, Raven’s lady parts glided down on his tongue. Her hips arched back and forth as Liam’s hand caressed the small of her back. His tongue twirled soft and erotically around her crease, then dipped deep inside. Raven wanted to climb back down. Her valley cried to be stroked deeply by his cock, yet Liam held his siege, hands clamped on her thighs and ass. She swayed against the headboard.
“Liam,” she screamed, allowing her core to roam over his pleasing tongue. Finally, sparks went off before Raven’s eyes as she came in his mouth. Liam’s hands gripped harshly on her ass as he demolished her creaminess. Tears burned her eyes, and Raven whimpered. With large, muscular arms, Liam pulled her back down. He sat up in bed with her straddling him once more. He gave a leisurely kiss to her bottom lip, then her top lip. Raven licked her sugar from his lips, tantalized by his addiction.