by Harlow Grace
Larissa laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “For the same reason you baked brownies and bought new clothes whenever you knew he was coming. You were besotted by Oliver.”
“Besotted? Hell no, I hated him. He was so mean to me.”
She patted my hand reassuringly. “All a cover, my dear girl. Because he didn’t want to go the same route his father had. He thinks Michael was weak. And in some ways he was. Michael refused to fight for us. He let everyone else’s opinions matter more than us.”
“Oliver knew?” I breathed. “About the two of you? That you were stepsiblings?”
She wrung her hands together. Her expression was pained. “Yes. It caused the biggest family scandal; people called us names, said we were living in sin, and that our child was from the devil himself. People are cruel, Maya. They never consider what their words can do to another person.”
I nodded. I'd seen it over and over again, and I hadn’t been around that long. My heart ached for her, and especially for Oliver. He was just a boy. Why would people label him like that? No wonder he was so fucking angry all the time. I had no idea he’d been through shit like that. All that time I hated him for being mean to me, he was simply taking it out on me to hide his own grief.
“Oliver has been through a lot then. I think I’m finally starting to understand him better. Why he did some of the things—I ] wish he’d told me. I could have been his friend.”
“He is way too stubborn for that. He didn’t want to care for you, my dear.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, casting her eyes to the floor.
“What?” I murmured, bracing myself.
“I was so ashamed when Oliver found out that his father slept with girls his own age. Subconsciously, I think maybe I thought I could have stopped that from happening. If I looked younger, or prettier, his father wouldn’t have strayed. Ultimately wouldn’t have wrapped himself around a damn tree.”
I grabbed hold of Larissa and pulled her closer, hugging her as she sobbed.
“It's not your fault, Larissa. You were dealt a cruel hand,” I said. I was beginning to understand Larissa a lot better—why she was so damn obsessed with how she looked to the point of absurdness. She was hiding her insecurity behind her looks. I couldn’t help pitying her a little. Because my father was right, she was a beautiful woman in her own right. She didn’t need all the surgery she’d become addicted to.
“Thanks. I try to remind myself of that. I just don’t want Alec to go the same way. And I want you and Oliver to be happy.”
I sucked in a breath. “So you didn’t hate me, then?”
“God, no. The reason I wanted you out of the house isn't what you think; I wanted you to fall in love with someone else. But it was too late. There was already something between you and my son. I never wanted either of you to go through what I had. It ate me alive. People’s nastiness and bullying can destroy lives. Throwaway comments can cause suicide. That’s why I think what you are studying is so helpful to others and why I support you.”
Larissa reached out and took hold of both my hands, pushing my shirtsleeves up. Her thumbs caressed softly over my wrists. “I've known about these for a long time. Although the scars have healed on your skin, the scars in your heart are still there, haunting you.”
My gaze met hers. For the first time we really connected.
“Does Daddy know?” I held my breath, waiting for her answer.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Oliver told us after it happened. He was beside himself.”
What?
My mouth hung slightly open as I tried to absorb it. Oliver told them and then blackmailed me into sex with him for the very thing he’d already disclosed? Why would he do that? It didn’t make sense.
“He never said he’d told you. He said it was or secret.” I couldn’t keep the disbelief out of my voice.
“He made us promise to watch you all the time. That’s when your father installed security cameras around the house. It was all Oliver’s idea. He was terrified you’d try it again and that he wouldn’t be there to find you.”
“Daddy . . . you . . . if you knew, why didn’t anyone say anything?”
Her hands smoothed over her skirt. “Oliver was convinced he could help you. That’s when he decided to move back to Santa Barbara, even though he’d said he hated the place. He wanted to be closer to you. Of course he didn’t tell your father that. But I understood what was going on.”
With my fist I rubbed large circles over my heart to ease the ache that settled there. “What should I do, Larissa? Help me, please. I love Oliver so fucking much it hurts.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh dear, I never thought you’d admit that. That’s the first step.” She paused, tilting her head to look at me for a long moment. “What do you want, Maya? How do you want your life to be?”
I didn’t hesitate for a second. “With Oliver. Wherever he is. However he is. Just as long as I’m with him, that’s all that matters. He can't marry Bianca. It has to be me. I love him with all my heart and soul.”
“Oliver’s little bee.” She smiled. “Those are strong words. Your love will be tested. There will be people who know your history and will look down on you. I never knew when I agreed to marry your father that it could affect you and my son like this—I didn’t think he’d fall for you the way he has. He always went for blondes, like Bianca. I thought you were safe.”
Her words rattled me. My head was spinning with all the new information I’d just learned. Sometimes nothing was as it seemed. Our reality was so different than what we showed the outside world.
“It's not your fault, Larissa. None of it. Not what happened to Michael, or me, or Oliver. Now that you’ve told me, I understand you so much better. I get where your insecurity comes from—and I don’t blame you at all.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, her eyes misty.
It still didn’t solve my problem with Oliver. How could I stop him from making the biggest mistake of his damn life?
“Go to Oliver. Talk to him,” she said as if she had read my mind.
“Go to Denmark? I—I can't. What if Bianca is there? What if Oliver rejects me?”
Larissa cocked her head, a small smile twisting the corners of her lips. “How much do you love my son, Maya? Is he worth fighting for?”
I nodded, tears streaming down my cheeks. I swallowed the burning lump in my throat. “I love him so much. I just had a hard time admitting it. I've tried everything to resist it, but I just can't shake him. I’d give my life for that man.”
Larissa rose to her feet. “I’ll make the arrangements. Bring him back home, Maya. He belongs here with us. We can finally be a real family.”
I blinked fast. Larissa was helping me?
How things had changed.
Chapter Thirty-Four — Oliver
Although I’d been in Denmark for three years now, I hated the freezing cold of December. Back in California it was cold, but it never cut through into my bones like it did here.
I stood by the window and watched the snowflakes flutter to the ground. My insides felt as cold as those ice droplets. I was supposed to be excited. I'd picked a ring and made dinner arrangements. I was finally moving on with my life. At twenty-five, I wanted kids of my own, and there really wasn’t any point in waiting to get married any longer. Bianca could satisfying my needs enough that I would be okay.
“There’s someone here to see you, Mr. King.” My secretary said in her thick Scandinavian accent. She stood in the doorway waiting for my reply, looking rather apprehensive. “She won’t give me her name.”
“I don’t have time now. Tell her to make an appointment and come back another day. And get her name.” Dismissing her, I went back to my computer. I had deadlines looming and more to do than I had hours in a day.
Work soothed my soul, kept my mind from wandering to places I wanted to avoid. The more I worked, the less I had time to think about Maya and what I was planning to ask Bianca. Because if I was honest, I fel
t uneasy and restless since I’d decided to take the plunge.
Maybe I’d feel better after I’d asked her and she agreed. It was probably normal to feel this way. How would I know any different? Yet I couldn’t help being a bit disappointed that I wasn’t more excited. I always imagined I’d feel elated when I popped the question. It was a big fucking moment in anyone’s life.
“I'm afraid I can't come back another day. I need to see you today, Oliver.” My head jerked up when I recognized the American accent. Was I fucking hallucinating? Lately I’d been waking up in a cold sweat—always dreaming of Maya. Putting a continent between us hadn't changed anything, and I couldn’t escape her in my dreams. And now I was hearing her fucking voice when I was awake.
My mouth fell open as I stared over Mrs. Olsen’s shoulder. Was I dreaming? Maya stood there in a cream colored coat and a red scarf around her neck. Her pitch black hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. Her cheeks were flushed and her sweet lips were pulled into a small smile.
She was even more fucking beautiful than I remembered. An apparition.
I pushed to my feet, my legs shaky. I’d wake up from this dream at any moment.
“Maya,” I said, barely able to get the word out. I waved to Mrs. Olsen to leave us alone. She smiled at us and pulled the door closed behind her. She never did that when Bianca came to my office—in fact, she made a point of disrupting our conversations so frequently that I sometimes felt like scolding her.
“I'm surprised you remember my name. I haven’t heard from you in three years, brother.”
I scowled. I hated that fucking word—it had ruined both my parent’s lives and mine.
“What are you doing here, Maya? Why are you in Denmark?” She was turning my whole fucking perfectly organized world upside down again. Just when I thought everything was under fucking control.
“Do I need a reason?” Her eyebrow lifted and she pursed her lips the way she always had when she was exasperated. Fuck, how I’d missed that.
“No . . . I—”
She threw back her head and laughed. “I have a few reasons, actually. One of them is research. I thought you could help me with that.”
“Help you? How?” I swallowed hard. Why was it so hot in this fucking office? I needed air.
“I'm doing a research paper for my thesis on step siblings. Since you’re pretty much an expert on that topic, I thought I could interview you.”
She’s not here for me. “Oh? That’s it? That’s why you’re here?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice.
What did you expect, Oliver? You were the asshole who’d left.
She unwrapped the scarf from around her neck and placed it over the back of the chair. I watched as she pulled at each finger of her gloves before removing them from her hands. Slowly, she unbuttoned her coat. I drank each movement in, totally enthralled by such a simple everyday action. But there was just something in the way she moved that captivated me.
“No, there’s more. Much more. But that can wait until we catch up on one another’s news.” This woman in front of me was Maya, yet she was somehow different. Self confidence oozed from her like I’d never seen. It was attractive as fuck.
Don’t go there. Don’t let your dirty thoughts sully this. It's not what you hope it is.
Nothing had changed about how she made me feel. As soon as the deep dimples appeared in her cheeks, my cock stiffened. Jesus fuck. She removed the coat, laying it over the back of the chair next to her scarf. She wore a deep crimson dress, hugging every curve of her perfect body. She was clearly no longer a teenager, and had morphed into a full bodied woman. The deep V cut in the front of her dress drew my eyes directly to her ample cleavage.
Just when I thought I’d finally worked her out of my fucking system, here she was, taunting me with the body and face that haunted my dreams. “Eyes up here, Oliver,” she said, reminding me of her words at the pool all those years ago.
My gaze shifted slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, up her body to her eyes. I sucked in a harsh breath. Those green orbs were dancing with delight, sucking me into their depths. I couldn’t tear my fucking eyes away.
I held on to the back of my chair, partly to compose myself, partly to hide the fact that my dick had gone rock solid. Fuck.
“Undressing me with your eyes, Oliver?” she said, laughing softly. Fuck, if I thought the eighteen year old Maya was dangerous, her adult version was completely mesmerizing. Electricity crackled in the air, causing every cell in my body to come alive and be on high alert.
I wanted to touch her. Feel those soft curves press into me. Kiss those fucking lips. Instead I stood frozen as if I’d seen an apparition.
The door cracked open, and in stepped my soon-to-be fiancé, looking smoking hot in tight leather pants and boots. But the attraction I felt for her could never be as magnetic as the pull toward Maya. Gravity had taken hold of my heart and I was powerless to change it.
Bianca was going to be my wife soon. Pull your shit together, King.
The smile on Bianca’s face slid right off when she saw my stepsister standing in the middle of my office. She pulled her nose up as if she smelled something off. “Maya? What brings you to Denmark?” Bianca’s eyes were wide, her tone hostile. It was impossible to miss her disdain.
Before Maya could answer I cut in, suddenly finding my tongue. “She’s here for work.”
Bianca walked over to me and grabbed hold of my tie, aggressively pulling me toward her. “I missed you, baby,” she said, hooking one leg around my thigh and rubbing her pussy unashamedly against me. “I thought I’d come to the office early so we could make out before we went to dinner. You know how that stimulates your appetite,” she said, winking at me.
Suddenly the red lipstick she wore with her too-brassy blonde hair made her look too much like a whore to carry my babies. Uneasiness settled in the pit of my stomach at the thought of waking to her face every day for the rest of my fucking life. The collar of my shirt strangled me, making me hot and uncomfortable.
Laughing, I pulled away and unbuttoned the top of my shirt. I loosened my tie and pulled it off. I hated these fucking things, but I’d had to wear it to a meeting earlier.
My gaze crossed back to Maya. She stood there, biting hard into her bottom lip the way she always did when she doubted herself. Seeing her vulnerability made my heart squeeze painfully.
“Plans have changed. We are going for a drink before dinner and Maya is coming with us,” I said matter-of-factly, as if this was completely normal.
The look on Bianca’s face was priceless. She never liked Maya and still referred to her as the kid whenever she asked me about my family back home, even though she knew perfectly well that Maya had just turned twenty one.
Bianca watched through narrowed eyes as Maya dressed back into her coat and scarf. She held both gloves in her hand and nodded when I asked if she was ready.
Awkwardness had settled in the thick air between the three of us.
As we stepped into the elevator, Bianca gunned for pole position, ensuring she stood between Maya and I. Twirling her hair between her fingers, Bianca trained her eyes on the descending numbers above the door. Why did people always do that? Suddenly it irked me beyond belief.
Maya had turned her head down, affording me the chance to openly stare at her face. Drinking in the sight of the vision before me, I noticed that Maya’s cheeks were a little fuller than I remembered, and those bee sting lips—fuck, they were sensational. She had them coated in some glittery shit that made them look even more delicious.
The doors opened and we stepped outside. The cold air hit me between the eyes, but it was better than the stifling air back in my office.
Mrs. Olsen had called for a cab, and it stood idling in the specially marked taxi area. At the last minute, I decided to let both women sit in the back as I slid into the front seat next to the driver. I didn’t want the first time I touched Maya after all this time to be when we were sandwiched
into the back of a taxi.
“Awww, babe, I wanted to cuddle with you,” Bianca whined.
One thing I was sure of—I was still an asshole. But letting the two women sit in the back together gave me a few moments to clear my fucking head. It was pounding with a motherfucker of a headache, and I knew exactly why. As Maya had bent down to get into the back seat, her scent had wafted to my nostrils and hit me straight in the dick. Some things never changed. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples with the pads of my thumbs.
Fuck.
We stopped in front of a trendy bar ten minutes later. I hopped out of the car to open the door for Maya, who’d sat behind me. She avoided my gaze, but her cheeks burned red, reminding me of the slinky dress she wore under her coat. I wanted to take it off her fucking body with my teeth and ravish her. Instead I stood like a statue, holding the door open like an idiot.
Seconds later, Bianca came barreling around the front of the taxi and bumped into Maya, knocking her purse out of her hand. The contents scattered over the sidewalk, sending a look of panic over Maya’s face.
Cursing at Bianca under my breath, I bent over to pick up the items that had fallen out. My gaze narrowed in on a blue box tied up with a ribbon that seemed vaguely familiar. Drawn to it, I picked it up, memories of it streaming into my consciousness. It was the box that always sat on my mother’s vanity.
“Maya?” I said, watching her expression for clues as I held it out to her.
She shrugged. “Keep it. Larissa sent it. She said you may want to use it.”
A conversation with my mom—a happier time from my childhood—played out in my mind. “Oliver, one day you’ll inherit these rings when you’re grown up. They’re my mother’s engagement and wedding rings, and she wanted you to have them. She left you a message inside the box, so be sure to read it before you give these rings to anyone, okay?”
Could this be the same box? I stuck it into my coat pocket before Bianca’s curiosity forced me to open it. I wanted to be completely alone when I read the message that was written in my grandmother’s beautiful slanted handwriting. I’d read it when I was a kid, but it didn’t really make all that much sense to me. I hoped that I'd understand it better now.