Biker's Virgin MC Box Set

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Biker's Virgin MC Box Set Page 83

by Claire Adams


  “That’s—”

  “Molly,” a hard voice said at my shoulder. “Gregory.”

  I turned around in surprise to see Tristan standing over our table, staring daggers at Gregory. His expression was cold, bordering on furious, and I was shocked at how harsh his tone was.

  “Tristan,” I said uncertainly. “What’s wrong?”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Tristan demanded of Gregory, without even looking at me.

  Gregory kept calm and regarded Tristan coolly. “I’m having dinner,” he said, with a faint smile. “What are you doing?”

  Instead of answering him, Tristan turned to me. “Molly, come with me.”

  I bristled at his commanding tone of voice. “Excuse me?”

  “I need to speak with you—now.”

  “About what?”

  “I think Molly just wants to have dinner with me, Tristan,” Gregory said. He put his hand on Tristan’s arm, but Tristan shook it away violently.

  “Tristan,” I said, standing up. “Calm down; if you want to talk, let’s talk. Excuse me, Gregory.”

  I could sense how tense and cold Tristan seemed to be. The moment we had turned into a large, deserted corridor, he rounded on me.

  “What are you doing with him?” he demanded.

  I raised my eyebrows. “We were having dinner,” I said. “Before you interrupted us.”

  “He’s not good enough for you.”

  I was taken aback by the reaction. I had hoped for a little jealousy, but I’d never expected this kind of uncontained anger. I couldn’t even be pleased because I was so shocked.

  “He’s not?” I asked in disbelief.

  “He plays the field,” Tristan blurted out. “He flits from one woman to another without a care in the world.”

  “Something you have in common with him.”

  My comment made him pause for only a second. “He’s too old for you; he’s too experienced, and you’re too—”

  “Too what?” I demanded, starting to get angry myself.

  “Too…young,” Tristan said, tripping over his words. “Too inexperienced…too pure.”

  I blinked at him for a moment. When I found my voice, I took a step towards him and looked him directly in the eye. “I am not a child, Tristan,” I said through gritted teeth. “I am no one’s plaything, and I certainly am not yours to be told who I should or should not be having dinner with. I am a grown woman. And I will make my own decisions. If you don’t like it, then that’s your damn problem.”

  Tristan was quiet for so long that I started to feel a little uncomfortable. The coldness in his eyes ebbed a little, but I could see that he was still angry.

  I shook my head at him. “I can’t believe you still see me as a child.”

  He looked down, breaking the eye contact between us. “I definitely do not see you as a child,” he said softly.

  The change of tone surprised me, prompting me to search his face for some clue as to the cause. His intense dark eyes were masked over, and I could barely decipher what was hidden beneath them. I felt the heat between our bodies and the tension of our exchange, and for one insane second, I thought he was going to kiss me.

  And just as my body leaned in towards his, Tristan turned his back on me and walked away without so much as a word or a backward glance.

  Chapter 13

  Tristan

  I had slept fitfully the whole night, contributing to my already dark mood. I had hoped I would cool down overnight, but somehow, I felt as annoyed and angry as I had the previous night. I kept seeing Molly in her stunning silver dress, with her golden hair flung over one shoulder like some angel out of my dreams. Then I kept remembering Gregory’s smug smile as he told me that Molly just wanted to have dinner with him.

  The worst thing about all of it was that Gregory was right. Molly was right. They were adults who were on a date. I had no right to impose on their dinner, and I had stepped way out of line by demanding that Molly speak to me in private right in the middle of her date with Gregory.

  Unfortunately, even though I could see reason, I couldn’t seem to be calmed by it. My mind was a live wire, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Molly and Gregory.

  When my phone rang, I answered without checking who it was. “Gregory?” I said aggressively.

  “Um no,” Ben’s voice was slightly curious. “It’s Ben.”

  “Oh,” I said. “What do you want?”

  “What happened?” he asked. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed today?”

  “You could say that,” I muttered darkly.

  “Does this have anything to do with what happened last night?”

  I stopped short. Was it possible that the staff had been paying attention to the little drama I had enacted last night? I knew it was a stupid question—of course the whole restaurant would have been watching the whole thing unfold.

  “Who told you?”

  “Does it matter?” Ben asked wryly. “The point is the whole hotel is buzzing… Apparently, they’ve never seen the boss so angry before.”

  “I was not angry,” I lied. “I was…annoyed.”

  “Okay,” he replied with obvious disdain.

  “Why are you calling?” I asked again, without much effort to be polite.

  “I’m calling to ask if you plan to make it to your seven o’clock meeting or not?”

  I glanced at the clock and cursed furiously. “Fuck, it’s seven-ten.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Fuck,” I said again. “Can you push the appointment to eight?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he replied.

  “Oh, and one more thing before you leave…”

  “Yes?”

  “What room is Gregory staying in?”

  “He has a superior suite,” Ben replied after a short, meaningful pause. “The number is one thousand.”

  I knew I shouldn’t be doing this; there was more at stake than a simple friendship. Gregory was an investor—a significant investor at that—and I couldn’t afford to alienate him. And yet, despite the unending refrain in my head, I couldn’t seem to slow my pace or turn back.

  It took me seven minutes to get to Gregory’s suite. I noticed that all my employees seemed to turn the other way when they saw me approach. Most averted their gaze or looked down at their shoes. Apparently, I had left quite the impression.

  I didn’t allow myself to think about it. I just kept walking until I got to the suite. It was situated in an alcove meant to offer added privacy. I paced for a minute, before finally knocking on the door.

  I stood there for exactly five seconds before another horrifying realization dawned on me. What if Gregory wasn’t in his suite tonight? What if he was with Molly in her suite? Or what if the door opened and it was Molly staring me in the face? What if she had spent the night with Gregory? I was contemplating breaking down the door and seeing what the situation was when the door swung open.

  Gregory was standing there in one of the fluffy white robes that the resort provided for guests. He had obviously been sleeping. I felt a twinge of sadistic pleasure at having woken him up. It was childish and completely unreasonable, but I was powerless to stop myself. I walked into the suite without an invitation, and Gregory was forced to close the door and follow me into his room.

  “Uh… Tristan,” he said, and even his voice was groggy with sleep. “I can’t say that I’m very happy with this wake-up call.”

  “We need to talk,” I said, rounding on him fiercely.

  He yawned and looked towards the tiny private bar that each suite was equipped with. “Will I need a drink for this?”

  “That depends.”

  “Oh boy,” he sighed. “Let me go splash some cold water on my face then.”

  Unable to stop him, I watched him disappear into the alcove where his room and bathroom were situated. Unable to stand still, I started to pace around the living room, wondering if he was hiding Molly in his bedroom. I noticed he h
ad made a point of closing the door behind him. What if she was in there trying to avoid being seen?

  I thought back to the previous night and the heated words we had exchanged in the corridor. Molly had turned on me with blazing blue eyes and a confidence that had me weak in the knees. I had never been more turned on, and at the same time, I had never been more aware of the pointlessness of all that lust and passion.

  When Gregory came back into the living room, he was fully dressed and looked much more alert and extremely amused. That observation only served to make my mood darker.

  “Why are you here, Tristan?” Gregory asked calmly as he sat down on the couch.

  “Molly,” I said.

  He sighed. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “No.”

  “Suit yourself,” he shrugged. I hated how calm he was being. It made me look like some raving lunatic who had just barged into his room early morning. “There really is no need for all of this, you know.”

  “All of what?” I demanded.

  “The hostility,” Gregory said. “You kept insisting that Molly was nothing more to you than your friend’s sister. So naturally, I assumed you would have no problem with me dating her. Now that it’s obvious you’re in love with—”

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded, cutting him off. “I’m not in love with Molly.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not?”

  “I’m not.”

  His face cracked into a wide grin. “I see. And do you always get this worked up about women you have absolutely no romantic interest in?”

  “She’s Jason’s sister, and I’m just looking out for her.”

  “Why?” Gregory asked. “Because I’m not good enough for her?”

  “I wanted to avoid saying that to your face, but yes,” I said. “She is too good for you.”

  Rather than appear offended, his grin grew wider. “You know what,” he said. “I actually happen to agree with you. Molly’s a fantastic woman. Not only is she brilliant and beautiful, but she also happens to be a truly kind and thoughtful person. Did you know she knows all the waiters by name?”

  “I…uh…no,” I said, stumbling over my words and more than a little surprised by Gregory’s strange reaction to my presence in his suite. “I didn’t know that.”

  “She’s had several part-time jobs, too,” Gregory continued. “All of which she crammed into a period of five years before she started college.”

  “She worked a lot,” I nodded impatiently. “I knew that.”

  “Do you know why?”

  I paused for a second. “I… What is the point of this?” I demanded. “What are we even talking about?”

  “We’re talking about the fact that you are clearly in love with Molly,” Gregory said. “Even though you refuse to admit it. And yet, you have neglected to get to know her. She’s a stunning, fascinating woman, Tristan, and she might actually make a difference in your life. Have you ever considered that perhaps she just might be your perfect match?”

  “I… She…” I stopped for a moment, annoyed with how flustered I was getting. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “Perhaps I am,” Gregory nodded. “But you’re being foolish. In any case, if I am to believe your version of the story, which is that you’re only trying to protect Molly—”

  “I am,” I insisted.

  “Then you leave me no choice but to point out that Molly is her own person,” Gregory said. “She’s not a child; she’s a twenty-four-year-old woman, and you do her a disservice by treating her like an infant.”

  “I’m—”

  “Maybe you should let her make her own decisions?”

  I stared at him for a moment. “I know you, Gregory,” I said, with narrowed eyes. “You can be a real charmer, especially when it comes to women. Molly might think she can handle it, but what happens when you cast her aside for some other girl?”

  “You think so little of me?”

  “I’ve seen it happen.”

  “And, you’ve never done the same thing before?” he asked pointedly.

  “I… That’s different,” I said weakly.

  “Why?” he demanded.

  I shook my head and turned my back on Gregory in favor of the view. But what I was really seeing was Molly’s face. “I don’t want you hurting her.”

  “What makes you think I’m going to?”

  “Men don’t change.”

  “Is that your observation?” he asked. “Or is that your fear?”

  “I’m not in love with Molly,” I said, more emphatically than was probably necessary. “But I do care about her. It’s the whole reason I wanted her to come down here and relax. She’s going through a rough time, and she doesn’t need anything or anyone clouding her head further.”

  Gregory stared at me carefully for a long moment. “Okay,” he said.

  “Okay?”

  “I’ll back off,” he said.

  “Just like that?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Just like that,” he nodded. “Based on your reaction, this means a lot to you. I don’t want to lose a friend and a business partner over a woman, even a woman as wonderful as Molly.”

  “Oh… Well… Thanks, Gregory,” I said uncertainly.

  “Can I ask you a question, though?”

  I pursed my lips and nodded.

  “Molly is going to meet someone one day,” he pointed out. “She’s not the kind of woman who’s likely to stay single long. So what’s your game plan? Follow Molly around her entire life and chase off every man who shows any interest in her?”

  I bit my lip, but I couldn’t find the right words to answer him. Gregory seemed to sense that he wasn’t going to get anything more out of me. He stood up, and his expression was knowing, but unsympathetic.

  “If you do have any interest in Molly, act fast, Tristan. She’s not going to be around forever, and once you’ve lost her… You’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”

  Chapter 14

  Molly

  I was scrolling through my Instagram feed when I stopped on a recent post of Jason’s. He was standing in a small group, between two women. Both women were attractive, but it was the redhead on his left that I zeroed in on.

  She was tall and willowy, and she was wearing a short dress that displayed her long shapely legs. Her red hair had been blow-dried to a glossy sheen, and her smile seemed to light up her face. I felt my heart beat a little unevenly as I stared at her near perfect face.

  I remembered the first time I had ever met Lizzie Strauss. She had accompanied Jason and Tristan home one holiday while school was out.

  I had been fifteen at the time and had been looking forward to their visit for months. I had stood by my window for two hours before Jason’s familiar car pulled up in the drive. I had watched expectantly, desperate for a glimpse of Tristan. When he stepped out of the vehicle, my heart had skipped a beat, but the joy I felt had been short lived.

  A few seconds later, the back door of the car opened and Lizzie got down. Even back then, she was all leg. She had been wearing denim shorts with a tie-dyed crop top that showed off her flat stomach, her belly button piercing, and the tattoo on her left hip. She looked like something out of a movie, an Amazonian beauty that reminded me of everything I was not.

  I had watched with a sinking feeling in my gut as Tristan had placed his arm around her and they moved into the house. I had suffered through the whole weekend, watching from afar as Tristan and Lizzie exchanged little gestures of intimacy that seemed to cement their bond. I hated when she laughed at his jokes, put her hand on his leg, or leaned into his body as though she had a right to be there. I had felt physically sick the whole weekend. And at night, I would cry myself to sleep, wondering how I was going to survive knowing that Tristan loved someone else.

  The morning that Tristan, Jason, and Lizzie were set to depart back to college, I had found Lizzie in the backyard overlooking the cornfield. I had watched her silently and envious
ly for a long while until she had turned around and spotted me watching her.

  Her smile was sad, and perhaps that was what made me approach her. “Hello,” she said, as though we had just met.

  “Hello,” I had replied.

  “We haven’t spoken much this whole weekend,” she had said.

  When I didn’t say anything, Lizzie turned her gaze back to the cornfield. “Don’t waste your time mooning after him, Molly,” she had said unexpectedly. “You’ll only wind up getting hurt.”

  When I had looked at her quizzically, Lizzie had smiled knowingly. “You have feelings for Tristan, don’t you?”

  “I don’t,” I’d said defensively.

  Her smile seemed to get wider and sadder all at the same time. “He’s charming and handsome and witty and smart,” she continued, ignoring my denial. “It’s easy to love Tristan. But the only thing he really loves is his dreams. And unfortunately, his dreams are so big, they crowd you out.”

  When I said nothing, Lizzie had given a huge, tired sigh and walked back into the house. I didn’t go out to say goodbye to them, and after that day I had never seen her again.

  Until, of course, I had come across her picture on Jason’s feed. I was staring at her face, recalling that conversation with fresh perspective when I heard Gregory’s voice across the pool, calling my name.

  I set my phone down and looked up. Gregory was walking towards me with a towel thrown across his shoulder. “Hi,” I said. “Are you here for a swim?”

  “I certainly am,” he nodded. “But I also wanted to see how you were doing after last night.” He sat down on the lounge chair next to mine and stretched his feet out. I sat up and swung my legs down to face him.

  “I’m sorry I cut out early, Gregory,” I told him. “I just didn’t think I could continue with dinner after that.”

  “That’s quite alright,” he said, waving away my apology. “I had fun last night.”

  “Did you?” I asked, incredulously.

  “Of course,” he nodded. “It was actually quite an enjoyable first date…even if it was interrupted. And, even if it was completely fake.”

 

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