Crown of Lies

by Pepper Winters

  Stewie screwed up his nose. “Ha, that’s funny.” His mirth faded. “Wait...I kinda suppose they are. Now, I mean. I never had a dad before.” His angular face brightened. He wasn’t chubby like some children of his age were. He had a hard edge about him that couldn’t be tamed, even in the ridiculously huge suit with cuffs hanging over his hands like penguin flippers.

  I glanced over my shoulder to Markus. “Where are his fathers? Why are you and my staff playing babysitter?”

  “Um, he’s only here with one gentleman, Ms. Charlston. And he just popped out for a moment. Urgent phone call, I believe.” He shuffled. “But he made the mess, not us. He and Stewie tried to find something smaller—smaller belts, socks, ties—an entire wardrobe, you understand. We settled on agreeing that Stewie would pick a suit he liked, and then we’d send it to be tailored to fit him.”

  My eyes widened. “But that will end up being an entirely new suit. There is no way a tailor can turn a man’s thirty-eight into a boy’s twelve.”

  “But isn’t that what I’m paying for?” a cool, svelte voice murmured behind me. It throbbed with glamour while somehow bordered curt impatience. “Isn’t that what Belle Elle prides itself on? Providing what other stores cannot? Because if it isn’t...then my apologies; we’ll go somewhere else.”

  I spun in place, my heart already leaping into a churning sea at his tone.

  The moment my eyes locked onto the newcomer’s dark brown ones, the past three sleepless nights and long hours caught up with me. Shaking hijacked my arms and not because I’d upset a customer and tarnished a little of what he rightfully said was our motto but because it was him.

  Him!

  “You.”

  “Yes, me.” Mr. Everett smirked. “Nice to see you again.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He rolled his shoulders, his fingers tightening around his phone. “Same thing as everyone else, I suspect. Putting our money into your pockets.”

  I crossed my arms. “Yet you leave your son for my staff to babysit. That isn’t part of their job description.”

  “I apologize. It was an urgent call and only lasted a few minutes.” He looked past me to the boy swimming in wool and hand stitching. “You okay, Stew? Find something you like?”

  Stewie turned and headed toward us, his feet dragging the trouser lengths like clown socks behind him. “Yep. I like this one.”

  Mr. Everett eyed the soft gray with navy blue pin striping. “Me too. Good choice.”

  Stewie shrugged out of the blazer and passed it to Markus who stood ever professional, minding his own business.

  I couldn’t decide if I wanted to run away or shove this miscreant out of my store. Son or no son.

  Wait...he has a son.

  He’s married to a man named Larry and has a son.

  Not only had my father got the story completely wrong at the bar, but Mr. Everett had also fibbed about being interested in me and having a ‘knack’ with women.

  My temper steamed, and before I could censor, I said, “Turns out you’re full of lies, Mr. Everett.”

  His eyes narrowed as a dark cloud settled over his face. “Excuse me?” He opened his arm as Stewie slotted himself against his side, reaching for his phone and swiping in the passcode to pull up Angry Birds.

  I stepped back as Sage sank her claws into my neck in warning.

  Good call, kitty.

  I let my arms fall, and tension disperse. It meant nothing that he’d lied or that he was gay. Why hadn’t I seen it? Of course, he was gay. He was far too well dressed and manicured in every way—trim nails, groomed eyebrows, and thick sorrel hair with the occasional honey highlight. That couldn’t be natural.

  He wasn’t natural.

  He was fake.

  And I was done.

  “I apologize for interrupting your shopping experience. I hope you enjoy the rest of your visit to Belle Elle.” Stepping forward, I did my best to avoid his bulk in the narrow hallway with changing rooms on either side.

  He wasn’t courteous and didn’t step aside to let me pass. He just stood there, giving me the choice to squeeze past the small gap or wait and glare into his eyes.

  The same eyes that had molten heat and a perpetually pissed expression. He was like sugar and salt, pollen and poison—someone dangerous. Prickles of self-preservation urged me to leave while frissons of curiosity whispered for me to stay.

  I didn’t like either.

  I didn’t like him.

  Needing to gain control, I looked at Markus. “Please ensure this department is tidy as soon as possible. And ask the tailor to triple check Stewie’s measurements so the alterations are perfect first time.”

  “Yes, Ms. Charlston.”

  “His name is Master Steel. Not Stewie,” Mr. Everett clipped. “Just like I’m Mr. Everett to you and Penn to him and you’re Ms. Charlston to everyone and never Noelle.”

  What the hell does that mean?

  I stiffened. “Let me pass.”

  “No.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Don’t ruin a nice afternoon out for your son, Mr. Everett. Your husband would be very sad to receive a phone call saying you’d been arrested for disrupting the peace in my department store.”

  His body shifted from tense to downright nasty. His hands opened and closed as if he’d like nothing more than to strangle me. His gaze flickered to Sage around my nape then back to my face. He didn’t seem surprised I wore a silver cat as an accessory. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His lips quirked at the corners. “For your information, I’m not married. And I prefer my dates with tits rather than balls.”

  I flinched. “Hardly suitable conversation with a child present.”

  Stewie mumbled with his eyes glued to Angry Birds. “I’ve heard worse. Believe me.”

  “Worse?”

  What sort of environment did Mr. Everett expose this kid to? Why was he so skinny? Should I get child services to do a ‘random’ house call?

  “If you recall, Ms. Charlston, I asked you to go to dinner with me the other night. Why would I do that if I wasn’t interested in women?”

  I ignored his question. It didn’t matter what his sexual orientation was or his reason for asking me out.

  I wasn’t interested in either answer. “I’m not sure why you had the need to inform an impartial stranger of your relationship preferences, Mr. Everett, but I can assure you, I don’t care in the slightest.”

  I moved forward, nudging his shoulder with mine, letting Sage’s tail flick his throat as I circumnavigated toward the exit. “Now, if you don’t mind. I have more pressing things to attend to.”

  I looked at the little boy. “Goodbye, Master Steel. I hope you like your new suit.”

  Without a backward glance, I marched as prim and proper as I could, yet some feminine part of me put an extra swagger in my hips. My own body irritated me, wanting to come across as aloof and sexy when really I shouldn’t give a damn.

  I didn’t give a damn.

  I’d dumped his drink on his head a few days ago, and now I’d told him off while he was spending his money in my store.

  Oh, well.

  That was all he was good for.

  Adding to the bottom line and becoming nothing more than a nuisance on my day’s agenda.

  “Come on, Sage. Let’s go back to the office.” I made my way quickly through the racks, noticing the mess had been tamed to its usual regimented glory. The long sweeping walkway linking the departments beckoned; I increased my speed.

  Something strong and unbreakable latched around my wrist, yanking me backward.

  I tripped in my heels, falling.

  I crashed against a very warm, very unmovable, very, very toned chest.

  Sage meowed, leaping from my shoulders with feline grace and landing on her feet as whoever had the audacity to grab me spun me around and planted two possessive hands on my upper arms. “You don’t get to do that again.”

  I focused on his mouth and how damn close
it was. How his aftershave reeked of heavy notes and woodsy musk. How his fingers dug into me like talons.

  How dare he touch me like that?

  How dare he believe he had the right to leap over bounds of propriety and somehow trap me in the middle of an argument I wasn’t even aware existed.

  Snatching my arms from his grip, I glowered. “Don’t get to do what?”

  “Be rude and leave.” His glare laced with dynamite. “At least, this time, you don’t have access to liquids.”

  “If I did, I know where I’d pour them.”

  His temper crackled, igniting a magnetic field between us until invisible lines of energy lashed us together. Confused energy. Misplaced energy. Energy that couldn’t possibly spark to the same frequency when I couldn’t stand the sight of him.

  “You’ll never do that to me again.”

  “I agree.” I nodded with a perfect snap. “Because I plan on never seeing you again. Glad we could agree on something for a change.”

  He rubbed his jaw, looking me up and down. “You said you never wanted to see me again at the restaurant, yet here we are.” He looked around the store, noticing what I’d already seen—that we were alone amongst a lake of clothes, hidden by towers of suede jackets and designer jeans.

  He stepped closer, backing me up into a rack of limited edition laptop bags for the hard working male. “Did you think about me, Ms. Charlston? Did you think about my offer?” He licked his bottom lip. “Did you think about what we could do together?”

  The way he emphasized ‘do’ sent a ripple of frustration through my belly. Frustration born of annoyance and that dreaded awful concoction of lust. The same lust that’d swarmed without warning the night of my nineteenth birthday. The same lust that’d almost made me lose myself to a man I’d only just met.

  I’d learned my lesson that night.

  I wouldn’t forget it now.

  In this light, with the shop fluorescents blaring down and the patchwork of clothes around us, Mr. Everett looked nothing like that man in a black hoodie. It’d been dark that night with so many things happening. My memory struggled to cling to truth rather than embellish with myth. I remembered Nameless had black hair matted into dreadlock-curls, a beard, and clothes that’d long since needed a wash. His eyes were a rich brown like devil’s cake. His lips masculine and handsome, adding animation to an otherwise guarded face.

  If he’d been my savior, then Mr. Everett was my nemesis in his perfected splendor and arrogant attitude.

  My wits came back, pushing away the heat in my stomach and the fizz in my heart from confronting this man once again.

  I slipped into CEO mode, shutting everything else off. The force-field hissing between us severed as I forced a laugh as brittle and bright as glass. “Wow, I knew you had an ego, but I didn’t know it’d taken up residence of your entire body.” I tapped my bottom lip with an ivory painted nail. “What question would you like me to answer first?”

  He frowned. “What?”

  I counted on my fingers. “One, no I didn’t think about you because you barely factored on my radar of noticeable things. Two, no I didn’t think about your offer because frankly, I forgot about you the moment I walked out of that restaurant. And three, I most certainly did not think about what we could do together because that would mean I noticed you, which I didn’t. Which, I believe, I just clarified.”

  Sage wrapped her lithe silver-furred body around my ankles, creating static against my pantyhose. I bent down and scooped her up, careful to keep my eyes away from Mr. Everett’s crotch. I wedged her like a teddy bear into my embrace rather than letting her resume her position like a parrot on a pirate’s shoulder.

  I needed her close. I needed to use her as support so I could get out of there and away from this man without either slapping him or kissing him.

  I couldn’t understand why my mind flashed with broken things—of violently attacking him, of giving into the unexplainable fury he invoked in me.

  The way he watched me, with a languor simmering with bitterness, said if I gave into such stupidity and started something, he’d be the one to end it with me slammed against the wall and his hands up my skirt.

  I didn’t like him.

  I most certainly didn’t want him.

  At all.

  He chuckled softly. “Now who’s the liar, Ms. Charlston?” He sniffed the air, almost as if he could drag my perfume and truth into his lungs. “You did think about me and you’re thinking about what we could do right now.” He lowered his chin, watching me from shadowed eyes. “Aren’t you?”

  I clenched my teeth and didn’t reply. A haughty sniff would have to do because I didn’t trust myself not to curse him to the underworld and call for security.

  I never suffered passion as sick as this. Never wanted to cause physical harm to someone I’d only just met.

  He was all wrong.

  He made my good turn bad.

  Leave.

  Right now.

  With a glare, I spun around and stalked toward the walkway and freedom.

  Only, there he was again, darting around me and planting himself in my trajectory. Wedging his hands in his gray slack pockets, he smirked. “Want to know my answers to those three questions?”

  His voice rippled over my mind but his posture turned a simple question into a labyrinth of disbelief. Something about the way he moved—the way his hands sought the sanctuary of his pockets.

  It was familiar.

  He tore apart my wondering by leaning close, plucking the energy lines still humming between us. “Do you want to know?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad.” He had the gall to walk forward, forcing me to either accept his closeness or step back.

  I didn’t want him touching me, so I backed up.

  And then another step.

  And another.

  Back and back he forced me, all while our eyes never unlocked and no physical touch ensued. He did touch me, though. His gaze set fire to my skin with every second he stared. I cursed the way my stomach clenched as my spine pressed against a cabinet holding t-shirts in every color for any occasion.

  He smiled coldly. “Seems you aren’t opposed to doing what you’re told, after all.”

  “What?” I squeezed Sage so hard, she sharpened her claws on my wrist.

  “I wanted you against a flat hard surface and what do you know...you’re against one.”

  My mouth went dry as his hand came up, looping around the silver pole of the cabinet stand. He didn’t hem me in, but he did lean forward until most of his weight pivoted on his arm, his body hovering so damn close.

  He made me prickly as a cactus, hot as a rainforest.

  And wet.

  I couldn’t remember the last time someone had puppeteered my body in such a way.

  Well, yes I can remember.

  But at the same time, I didn’t want to. Not while I was affected by a man so totally different to that chocolate kisser in my past. It was ridiculous but I felt like I cheated on him—trampling over my oath to help him, ripping up the debt I had to find and save him.

  I hadn’t lived up to my promise and every second I spent licking my lips, drunk on cheap chemistry, I cheapened what’d happened between us.

  The same rush of pleasure I wanted Nameless to take now begged for a new master.

  And I don’t even like this man.

  I didn’t like myself.

  But it didn’t matter because my heart understood he was an egotistical asshole and my body deemed him acceptable enough to scratch my lust-itch regardless.

  His gaze dropped to my mouth. His voice was soft, coaxing. “One, I did think about you. A lot more than I should probably admit. I thought about forcing you to accept my offer, so at least I could get you behind closed doors. And I most certainly thought about what we could do together.”

  His head erased the distance, his minty breath slipping past my lips and somehow taking up residence in my lungs, suffocating me. “I th
ought about it in the shower, in bed, fuck, even in my office.” His head came down. His nose nuzzled the shell of my ear, disrupting the crystal earring so it tinkled softly.

  His other hand came up, a single finger unfurling and tracing an electrical cord down my arm, slipping to my side and boldly pressing against my waist to my hipbone. “You’re a stunning woman, Elle Charlston, and your father was right. Whatever man you end up with is a lucky fucking bastard, but I don’t think anyone stands a chance.”

  He looked into my gaze with cold, pitying look. “You have a prison gate around yourself that you’re too afraid to unlock and be free.”

  I hated that he understood me when he had no right.

  I despised the way he’d used the word free when I myself thought that phrase far too often.

  And I loathed that his body heat stung mine with sensation and my nipples tightened to pain.

  I had no resolution to push him away.

  His fingertip suddenly left my hipbone and landed on Sage’s head. “It’s funny that you’re carrying your pussy around. Is that an invitation in some strange way?”

  I spluttered. “Get your hand off my cat.”

  He immediately held it up in surrender before once again tracing a fingertip from my shoulder to my wrist.

  It took every ounce of training and discipline not to shudder or puddle to the floor. How long had it been since someone had petted me? How long since I’d been touched other than a quick fatherly hug or pat well done?

  Never.

  That’s how long.

  Because even Nameless had never stroked me. He’d grabbed me, kissed me, fondled me, but never stroked.

  I squeezed my eyes, doing my best to find normalcy. Grasping the frigidness inside that still remained like a never thawing glacier, I was glad my misplaced yearning couldn’t melt it.

  I was better than this.

  Better than him.

  Sidestepping where his arm wasn’t latched to the cabinet, I ducked around a rack of hanging slacks and cloaked myself with government. “I think you over-estimate yourself, Mr. Everett. I don’t care if you thought about me and I don’t appreciate thinking about what you were doing to yourself in the shower.”