Bradley's Whistle (P.ornstars of Romance #2)

by Kirsty Dallas

  He was dressed in a black tuxedo, his hair carefully gelled into a stylish mess, clean shaven, and absolutely, one hundred percent sexy male perfection. I have no doubt his stunned expression matched mine.

  “Don’t look so surprised, Bradley. She’s beautiful. Of course she’d look like a princess in a pretty dress,” Casey said almost defensively.

  “Oh, she’s beautiful,” Bradley finally murmured as he approached and did a slow walk around me. “But she’s not a princess.” He stopped directly in front of me as he took my hand, turned it over, and leaned forward to press a kiss into my palm. “She’s a goddess.”

  Ohhhh, no fair! Looking like he did, saying such things, made me want to jump his handsome bones!

  “Don’t wait up,” he said to Casey with a wink.

  “Be home before midnight,” Casey ordered, and Bradley raised a brow. “No, really, before midnight. We fly out at noon tomorrow; she needs at least a few hours’ sleep.”

  The reminder that my stay was drawing to such an imminent close could have dragged me into a state of misery if it weren’t for Bradley.

  He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “When I get back to New York, I’m going to chain you to your bed, and you won’t leave there for a week. You better be ready for me, pussycat. You won’t be able to walk straight for a month.” Then he tugged me by the hand and pulled me out of the apartment.

  “You look spectacular, love,” Aedan gushed when he opened the door to the Lexus parked on the street in front Bradley’s home.

  “Thank you,” I murmured as Bradley helped me into the backseat.

  I fiddled with the pink polish on my nails, the pretty crystals on the bodice of my dress, and the nifty button that slid the window up and down. It was a typical Wiska reaction to a nervous situation, fiddling, but it somehow kept me occupied and level. Obviously, Bradley finally got tired of my relentless fidgeting and took my hand in his, pressing his lips to the back of my knuckles.

  “Are you packed for tomorrow?”

  “Mostly,” I confessed.

  “Do you have a ride organized when you get back?”

  “Lionel.”

  “Do you think I look handsome in my suit?”

  Aedan tried to disguise his laughter behind a cough.

  “There is no one more handsome,” I whispered with a smile.

  The rest of the drive was in comfortable silence, until we pulled in front of a place that was more suited for kings and queens. It was a castle, with turrets, massive arched stained glass windows, and a wide staircase leading up to mammoth, wooden double doors. The looping driveway was busy with cars and limousines, but Aedan easily navigated around the throng and dropped us off practically at the foot of the stairs.

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he said with a handsome smile as Bradley took my hand and guided me from the car. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

  “Thanks, Aedan,” Bradley said, giving him a final nod before leading me up the staircase.

  “I feel like I need to burst into song right now,” I confessed. When Bradley raised his brows in question, I began singing “Let It Go” from the children’s movie, Frozen.

  “What is that?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Please don’t tell me you haven’t seen Frozen. That would be a definite deal breaker.”

  “Maybe you can introduce me to it when I get home.”

  We both simultaneously paused . . . home. He was my home, and the thought of having him in my home just seemed right. Yeah, this was all happening way too fast. I was already at E, and now I was thinking turbulent thoughts of moving Bradley into my tiny one bedroom apartment. I was clearly going to be an obsessive girlfriend.

  “Home,” Bradley whispered the word again, as if testing it. He finally gave a decisive nod and tugged me through the wide open doors.

  *

  The interior of the castle was as dazzling and refined as any castle should be: red velvet carpets, shiny gold fixtures, and furniture that would give any antique collector a life-long hard-on. Bradley led me past a winding staircase that put Scarlett O’Hara’s to shame, and through another set of wide open doors into what I could only assume was a ballroom. All the while, I wandered through the place like a fish, quite clearly, out of water. While most the other guests seemed immune to the castle’s charm and brilliance, I was in awe. The ballroom was bustling with activity, servers carefully navigating the gathering with calm precision; hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes sat atop trays as guests greedily reached for the treats.

  “Sir,” came a voice to Bradley’s side, and he was offered a drink from the tray. He leaned into the waiter’s side and whispered something before returning his attention to me. At my curious glance, he smiled and encouraged my arm to wrap around his bicep. It was such a chivalrous, old-world thing to do, but I adored the way it brought my body closer to his.

  “I asked him to bring me a whiskey and you a sparkling water.”

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I could have gotten it for us.”

  Bradley stifled a laugh and kissed my cheek.

  “Pretend you are a spoiled princess for tonight. These people are paid good money to serve us, and we, in return, are spending a great deal of money on this charity.”

  “And what charity is it that you’re supporting.”

  “It’s a charity that raises money for children in poverty stricken countries. My boss’s grandfather grew up on the streets. He actually started the charity, and Willie continues it in his honor.”

  I then noted the nods and hellos Bradley received from just about everyone we walked by.

  “We’re not just here as guests, are we?”

  “In a manner of speaking, I’m here representing the Bianco organization. Although Willie’s right hand man from the States is here to take care of all the official things, I’m just a show of support.”

  “Do they know who you are and who you work for?” I murmured as I began politely nodding to the curious gazes that passed me by.

  “Nobody knows much about me or who I work for.”

  “Then why are they all acknowledging you?”

  “Because I come every year; this is my sixth time. They know I represent the charity on some level.”

  “Oh.”

  At that moment, the server brought us our drinks, and Bradley quickly caught the eye of someone passing out what looked like pieces of shriveled up, slimy, dead animal. When he offered me one, I leaned in close and sniffed it. It had a seafood smell, which I wasn’t fond of at all.

  “Oysters,” Bradley said with a chuckle. He tossed it back into his mouth and deposited the rough looking shell base that had housed it into a small bucket the server held.

  “Figures you’d eat something that looks like a vagina.”

  He couldn’t hold back the laughter that spilled from his lips, and I thrilled at the curious stares, particularly those from the somewhat envious eyes of women. Yeah, ladies, he’s all mine, and I made him laugh with a vagina joke! Bradley leaned in to kiss me, and I pulled away.

  “Oh, no you don’t, not with stinky mollusk breath.” I snapped open my purse and handed him a mint, which he accepted with humor in his eyes.

  We continued to wander through the room, and Bradley was stopped repeatedly by people saying hello or asking about Willie. Bradley was an expert at non-disclosure, never giving the curious questions quite the answers they were after, but just enough information to placate them.

  When we rounded a doorway that led into another room, Bradley pulled me behind a gold, gauzy curtain, and his hands were suddenly all over me as he pressed his lips to mine with a desperation that made me gasp for breath. His body pressed mine to the wall, and the rigid length of Vlad pressed against my lower stomach as my hips reached for his. When he finally pulled his mouth from mine, he rested his head in the crook of my neck.

  “I’m gonna hate letting you go tomorrow,” he confessed.

  I wrapped my arms a
round his neck and pulled him as close as I could, which still wasn’t close enough.

  “Don’t say that,” I whispered. “You’re supposed to be the strong one. I’m the weepy female. If the roles change, it will completely destroy your street cred.” I reached for humor in an attempt to soothe him, and by the shaking of his body, I had succeeded.

  “Ahhh, pussycat, didn’t you know? I have no street cred.”

  “Oh, really? Then what the hell am I doing with you?” I tried to shove him aside, but he held me in place, his eyes dancing with laughter.

  “These are going to be the longest three weeks of my life.”

  My finger drew a line from his brow to his cheek, down the stubborn jaw that had been permanently fixed into a brooding line only a few weeks earlier. That scowl appeared less and less now, and knowing I made him happy made me happy.

  “So, am I gonna get some nookie back here, or do we need to mingle some more.”

  “Nookie?” He chuckled. “As appealing as that sounds, I guess we should mingle.”

  He stood back and tried to wipe my lipstick first from his lips, then mine. I shooed his hand away.

  “I’ve got backup. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just go fix myself up if you can point me in the direction of the bathrooms.”

  Bradley managed to merge us back into the passing guests, who seemed oblivious to the fact we had just stepped out from behind a curtain, and pointed in the direction of the bathrooms.

  “I’ll be over there getting us another drink.” He pointed out the bar and kissed me on the cheek before I made my mad, post-kiss dash across the room.

  In the bathroom, I took care of a little tinkle business and fixed up my makeup. There was nothing quite as exciting as a man willing to mess up your makeup with a little make-out session in the middle of a formal charity event. Smacking my lips together, I stuffed the tube of MAC lipstick back in my clutch and escaped the throng of women who poured into the room as I left. I carefully moved through the crowd, and not noticing Bradley at the bar, I stood to one side to see if I could find him.

  “It’s good to see you again, Paul.” Bradley’s familiar voice from somewhere over my shoulder caught my attention. I smiled, admiring the confident, sexy way he spoke.

  “Likewise, Emerson! I’ve been dying to speak to you. Are the rumors true?”

  I would have turned around to look for him, but the question in a strong English accent had me pause.

  “You know what they say about rumors, Paul: they’re carried by haters, spread by fools, and accepted by idiots.” That was received with a full bellied laugh.

  “So, you aren’t shacked up with the porn star, Wiska James.”

  And now they had my full, rapt attention.

  “Yeah, I heard where Kasper failed, you nailed it. You’re wining and dining this sexy skin-flick chick straight from your bed and into Brutal Babes.”

  My heart suddenly flipped, and for all the wrong reasons. My stomach lurched, and I pressed a shaking hand to it.

  “It appears someone can’t keep their mouth shut,” Bradley growled.

  Oh, my god, he didn’t even deny it. I took a few staggering steps forward, and soon those clumsy movements were fluid and fast as I wound my way through the crowd, my eyes glued to the big doors at the end of the room. Once I reached them, I panicked, not quite sure which way Bradley and I had entered from.

  “Miss, can I be of assistance?” asked a young woman, dressed in a uniform not dissimilar from the servers inside the ballroom.

  “How do I get out of here?” I asked, my voice shaky, barely recognizable to myself.

  “Just head down the hall here, pass the staircase, and you’ll see the entrance directly in front of you.”

  “Thank you,” I somehow managed to squeeze out.

  The elegant decor that had held my attention when we entered was now lost to panic and shock. I staggered into the cool night air with relief. I’d barely been able to breathe inside, and now I found a modicum of peace in the fresh air that filled my lungs. I clung to the side of the building for a moment, my mind a whirl of messy confusion. While one part of me refused to believe Bradley’s entire effort to romance me was a charade, the other part of me, the part already betrayed by another man so recently, kicked in. This hurt was a million times more painful than what happened with Kasper, though. All Kasper had managed to do was damage my pride. Bradley had damaged something much more valuable—my heart.

  “Wiska?” came a familiar voice.

  I looked up into the concerned eyes of Aedan.

  “Can you take me back to the apartment?” I asked, my throat tight with emotion.

  “Where’s Emerson, love?”

  “Please, Aedan, otherwise, I’ll hail a cab, or walk.” I glanced around the driveway, which was virtually free of traffic, the Lexus we had rode in parked to one side.

  “Shall I get Emerson first?” he asked cautiously.

  “No, I need to go, right now, please, Aedan,” I begged, a tear finally slipping free and tumbling down my cheek.

  “Oh, love, you’re gonna break my heart.”

  He reached for my arm and gently led me to the car, opening the back door and closing it with a quiet click as soon as I was seated. Another tear slipped free, followed by another, and another. Once the car was moving, Aedan cast a worried frown in my direction through the rearview mirror.

  “Did Emerson do something to upset you, love?”

  I managed a despondent nod.

  “Is there anything I can do? Someone I can call?”

  The tears were falling in a steady cadence now, and I rubbed my chest in an effort to relieve the pain that seemed buried deep beneath the skin there.

  “Just get me back to his apartment so I can get Casey and leave.”

  I just wanted to go home. I wanted my things, I wanted my bed, I wanted my fluffy slippers and comfy pajamas. I wanted to curl into a ball on my couch and cry so hard until I puked. I wanted my own toilet bowl to puke in. But most of all, I wanted to be numb to this pain that was crushing me with ruthless force.

  CHAPTER 25

  Bradley

  My brow furrowed as I looked over the crowd once more. Wiska had been gone a while now, far longer than your average bathroom break should take. My body still throbbed with anger over the conversation with Paul and his associate, Reece. Their assumption that I was bedding Wiska on the premise of wooing her over to Brutal Babes had made me feel ill. Someone most definitely couldn’t keep their mouth shut, and from that mouth spilled lies and deceit. I tried to find out where Paul had heard the rumor, but as soon as he noticed my anger, he became awfully quiet for someone who’d been only too eager to talk moments ago. They wouldn’t be speaking of Wiska so callously again, though, certainly not in front of me. I might not have fists that can fly, but I sure as shit had a tongue that can cut down the tallest ego in less than five seconds flat. My verbal assault had Paul wincing more than twice. I found myself wondering if it was worth taking some lessons on how to throw a punch just so I could feel the satisfaction of his nose breaking under my fist. I tried to unclench those fists now as I searched for Wiska.

  “Excuse me, do you remember the date I came through here with a short while ago?” I asked the staff member stationed at the entrance to the ballroom. “Blonde hair, blue backless dress.”

  Her eyes lit up, and she nodded quickly. “Oh yes, she came through here about twenty minutes ago. She was looking for the exit.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, my thoughts lost to confusion and concern as I made my way toward the castle entrance.

  “She didn’t look well, sir. She seemed pretty upset,” the staff member added.

  I nodded, my worry increasing as I navigated the long hall and foyer. Racing through the open doors, I expected to see Wiska waiting for me, but the driveway was empty, and nothing but cars appeared to sit in the small adjoining parking lot. Pulling my cell phone from my back pocket, I tried to call her. It didn’t even ring, just
went straight to voicemail.

  Frustrated, I looked around for Aedan and the Lexus, and found them both missing. Getting more confused and more worried by the minute, I called Aedan.

  “Mr. Emerson,” he answered in a somber voice.

  “Aedan, where are you? Have you seen Wiska? I can’t find her, and I’m worried.”

  He let out a long sigh. “I have her, sir. She came out of the manor somewhat upset, asked me to take her back to the apartment, and I pulled up here not long ago. I’m waiting in the car for her and her friend Casey.”

  “What the fuck’s going on, Aedan?” I growled as I raced down the steps two at a time. I approached a waiting cab sitting on one side of the driveway, the driver leaning against the front door having a smoke.

  “I’m not sure. She was awfully upset, and apparently, you put those tears on her face.”

  It was said as an accusation, and it brought me up short, literally. I was standing frozen not ten feet from the cab, the driver looking at me expectantly.

  “She was crying?”

  “That she was, Mr. Emerson.”

  “What the fuck happened? She went to the bathroom, and that was the last I saw of her.”

  “I’m not sure. She’s not willin’ to talk to me about it, but I’ll give you this—she’s packing her belongings right this minute. If you want a chance to find out where you fucked up, I’d suggest you get yourself a cab and get home. I’ll try and stall ’em, but I’m guessing she’s going to be ready to leave ASAP.”

  I practically threw myself into the back of the cab, and the driver sat in front of the steering wheel calmly and far too slowly.

  “If you can get me to Hyde Park in less than fifteen minutes, I’ll give you a one thousand pound tip.”

  The driver gave me a disbelieving look, and we fell into a frustrating stare-off.

  “Two thousand pounds, and now you have fourteen minutes.”

  He revved the engine, threw it into gear, and did an impressive, noisy skid on the asphalt before the car lurched off in the direction of my apartment.