by Nora Flite
He watches me with his eyes narrowing. “Can't even say it out loud, can you?” He's wearing black work boots; they crush the wood floor as he comes towards me. I have nowhere to go. I'm blocked between the couch and the giant windows. “Go on. I want to hear it from your lips.”
My breath comes out in short bursts. “Are you a murderer?”
Raw, unfiltered energy rips through his wide eyes. His coffee-colored irises sink beneath a sea of black. His right hand rises, floating beside my face, as if he wants to touch me but there's something in the way. “Yes.”
The ribbon of regret winding around my heart becomes barbed wire. I lean backwards into the glass. “I don't understand.”
His hand comes for my cheek again. I flinch, and he freezes. “There's nothing to understand.” Those fingers curl into a fist that drops to his side. Dominic turns his head, his eyes squeezing shut. “Murder is murder. My cousin is dead because of me.”
I'd wished, prayed, that Kara was lying or that she'd somehow misunderstood. It's impossible to pretend now that he's confirmed the story. “I can't wrap my head around this,” I whisper. “There has to be more going on here.”
The muscles in his shoulders bunch. He shoots a look at me, his subtle smirk setting my heart on overdrive. “You're amazing.”
“What?” I ask, lost.
“I just told you I'm a killer, and you're trying to find a way to justify it. Why is that?” He closes the short distance. His shadow smudges out the morning sun that's working hard to dry up the leftover rain outside. “What would make you so desperate to believe I'm not as awful as I just stated?”
His lips inch closer to me. My mouth waters; I want to kiss him. My body resonates with the memory of how good his kisses feel. I clamp my teeth shut, but that makes me have to suck in air through my nose—I get a whiff of his delicious scent.
“Laiken,” he whispers, all shadow and sin. He looks at my lips, then into my eyes. “Could you possibly still want me, even after learning what I'm capable of? Does your desire run that deep?”
I experience a full body shudder that's pure lust.
“It does,” he answers for me. His palm cups my cheek, and the warmth of it rolls through my cells, right down to my pussy. “My god, I could take you right here, right now. Couldn't I?” His eyes widen as he marvels at the possibility.
Buttery ripples consume my belly. He rocks against my hip, his erection massive as it digs into me through his jeans. “What's wrong with me?” I whisper.
He strokes my bottom lip, keeping his thumb there. The pressure of it is wonderful, but it's the salty taste of his skin that has me whimpering. “What's wrong? Nothing. What's right is that your body remembers who its owner is. I told you, Laiken. I warned you when we fucked. I'm the first person to make you come, and the last, and your pussy knows it.”
I close my eyes and groan. He shivers; I feel it where his thumb rests on my sensitive lip. He slides his thumb further, running it on my slippery tongue. My body is my enemy—it makes me suckle him, has me imagining it's his cock. Reminding me I never even tasted that thick, warm, throbbing—
“What the fuck is going on?” Kara shouts.
Dominic's thumb escapes me with a filthy wet “pop.” Both of us gape at my sister in the doorway. Her pretty face is contorted in disbelief.
“Ka—Kara,” I say, her name coming out in fractured pieces.
He faces her boldly. Daring her to interrupt. My sister marches forward, shoving her way between us. “Back off,” she spits at him.
Dominic doesn't move very far. He considers her, and I wonder if he plans to push my boundaries with her watching. Last night, he gave her the space to talk to me. Now he's acting like he owes her nothing. “I'll back off,” he says softly, “if Laiken tells me to.”
I work my jaw, searching for words. My core is flexing, my nipples painfully hard inside my dress. The velvety interior feels so damn good, but not as good as he would feel if I let him finish what he started.
“Laiken,” Kara implores me.
Inhaling until I'm steady, I meet Dominic's smoldering black gaze. “You need to leave.”
His eyes narrow perceptively. He's fully aware my skin is aching for more of his skilled touch. “Fine. I'll go.” I expected him to argue more. I'm kind of frustrated that he didn't. But the wicked way he rubs his lips with the thumb I sucked . . . the unsubtle way he adjusts his hard-on before he exits . . . he's showing he's not done with me.
When we're alone, Kara throws her arms up in the air. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to stay away from him!”
“I know, I know. I really don't know what happened.” I'm still recovering from the magnetic tug between my core and his. I was ready to give in to him. I'm buzzing, all slick with perspiration and unquenched desire.
She eyeballs me, folding her arms tight. “It's like you didn't hear anything I said to you last night.”
“He just caught me off guard.”
“It was too easy for him to get you alone, Laiken.” Her voice softens, her eyes losing their thunderclouds. “I want to help you,” she says under her breath. I'm nearly reading her lips. “I wish I could be your guard dog to keep him at bay, but no one can realize how much we still love each other. They'll use it against us.”
My brain lights up. “That's why you were so cold to me at the party.”
“Shh,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. “There's probably cameras, audio devices, who knows what else all over this place. Spies, for sure.” Her eyes dart side to side frantically.
A tiny little part of me tingles with worry. Is she right? Or is she just paranoid? “So . . . we can't even act like we're getting along?”
Kara nods. “Avoid me the way you'll be avoiding Dominic.”
I'm sinking down into a swamp of depression as her suggestion hits home. If I do as she says, I'll be living under the same roof as my sister and the man I crave, while acting like neither exists. It's a terribly lonely thought.
Her fingers brush mine, a quick, too brief touch. “I missed you,” she whispers. “I really, really did.”
I well up with tears. My face burns as I force them down. This was what I wanted last night. This is what our reunion was lacking. “Please, can you at least tell me how you know Dominic and his cousin? I thought you were staying with Dad and Mom.”
Kara faces away, her short hair glistening in the sun. “I was. And then I wasn't. Not long after we were taken from the cabin, it was decided I should be split away from them the same way you were. Annie's brother offered his home. That's how I met Bernard. And how I learned what kind of a man Dominic really is.” Her shoulders tense up. “Please, just do as I'm asking you, Laiken. Keep your distance from both of us. It's safer. It really is.”
I want to ask more, but I can't. Not while she's walking away from me. She's always been clever, and if she thinks it's safer for us to act like we've grown apart, become strangers, I'll do it.
I just wish it didn't hurt so much.
- Chapter 3 -
Laiken
The kitchen is a flurry of hands and busy bodies.
I catch a snippet here and there. It sounds like they're getting ready for a big luncheon. Spotting Mellie in the corner, bent over a collection of drink pitchers, I hurry towards her. “What is all this?” I ask.
She ping-pongs a look to me, the glasses, then back again. “The result of your little party the other night. The partners from Steel Works Co. are coming over for a luncheon today.”
I thrill with the news. “That's great!”
“In a way,” she agrees, picking out an elegant crystal pitcher. She holds it to the light and squints. “More work for all of us, though. These are powerful men. Master Silas wants this to go well, as do I, but it’s so last minute.”
“Can I help?”
She gives me a curious look. “Wouldn't you rather spend time with your sister?”
All at once I remember who Mellie is. It was too easy to thin
k of her as a friend. But she works for the Bradleys—her alliance is to them. Keeping my face calm, I repeat to myself what Kara said to me yesterday, about us not acting like we're close. “Kara's made it clear she doesn't want to be around me,” I say, shrugging. “I've got nothing but free time.”
Mellie squints, her peach colored lips eventually becoming a tiny smile. It terrifies me that I don't know if it's real or not. Spies, Kara had told me in a hushed tone. Is Mellie a spy?
She probably is.
Every set of eyes in this kitchen is watching me.
Aren't they?
“Okay,” she says, handing me a list from her pocket. “I won't turn down more hands. Do you know how to peel carrots?”
An old memory tugs at my heart. It's of me and my mother standing over our kitchen sink, strings of orange sticking to the basin as we prepare dinner. “Yes. I know how.”
THE WORK FLIES BY. Mellie gives me tons of menial tasks to do and I'm happy to take them on. It's like working with Wyatt, only less muddy. Not that I'm not getting dirty; after two hours in the kitchen I've got vegetable pieces and flour stuck all over my hands and hair.
Mellie comes after me with a wet paper towel, wiping away what she can. “Sorry,” she says apologetically. “I wish you had time to clean up better.”
“Why does it matter what I look like?”
She bites the corner of her mouth. “I was hoping you would help me set up things outside. But we're running late, and there's a good chance that Silas and his guests will arrive while we're still working.”
I make a face. “No one will look twice at some random girl wearing a T-shirt and jeans.”
Mellie avoids my eyes. “They might. Last time they saw you, you were shimmering in a gold dress, dancing in the middle of the ballroom. They might wonder why you're slumming it today.”
Grimacing, I wave a hand in the air nervously. “I doubt I left an impression on them.”
“You kind of stole the show with Dominic leading you across the floor. Or do you not remember?”
I definitely remember. I keep trying to forget it. I haven't talked to Dominic since he cornered me in the sunroom. I've had even less exchanges with Kara. She's shut herself in the bedroom she's staying in. She hasn't even left for food; the maids leave it on silver trays outside her door. She really doesn't want to see anyone—that includes me.
Holding myself to my full height, I grab the basket of tablecloths that Mellie had placed nearby. “I'll still help you, even if the guests think I'm the grossest thing they've seen all week.” I wink and she manages a tiny laugh.
“You don't look that bad, it's just that the serving staff are all wearing such nice outfits. You're going to be a bit of an eyesore.”
I hope she's wrong and that I'll blend into the sidelines instead.
It's overcast outside, the sun peeking through at a couple intervals. The brief taste of winter that accompanied the recent storms has been pushed out by more warmth. Mellie and I cross the grass, making our way to the long table that's been set up. There's a round one nearby with a large umbrella keeping it in the shade. I figure that's where everyone will be sitting.
Mellie confirms my thoughts when she instructs me to start putting placemats and silverware on the circular table. There are five other staff running around, all of them arranging teacakes and finger foods and hot buffet trays. There's three different pitchers of mimosas, all of them a different flavor. This is definitely a fancy lunch.
As I'm finishing draping the last of the pale green seatbacks that Mellie has handed to me, I hear voices rising in the distance. I shoot a furtive glance over my shoulder towards the driveway, trying to gauge how much time I have between when Silas and his guests arrive.
I freeze and look again.
Dominic is with the group, and he's laughing at something one of the strangers has said. There are three men I don't recognize mixed in with Annie, Silas, and their son. I don't know why I assumed Dominic wouldn't be here. Maybe I just liked to think of him as separate from the rest of his family.
The memory of our near kiss yesterday morning flows into my head. I swallow that sweet memory back down, but the taste lingers. Dominic spots me. His laughter fades. Recovering like a pro, he leans over to say something to one of the men; all three of them chuckle.
He's acting like seeing me doesn't set his heart on fire. But I know it has to, because mine is melting in my chest.
Mellie rushes up to the front of the table, her hands wrapping in her skirt as she bows her head. “Master Silas, Miss Annie.” She looks at Dominic and adds, “I hope all of you enjoy the lunch that we worked so hard to prepare.”
Silas tips his chin, then gestures at the strangers. “Mellie, this is Mr. Franklin, Johnson, and Donovan. They're the partners who own Steel Works Co.”
Mellie bows her head again then steps to the side. “Please, if you need anything else just ask me or my staff.”
Dominic is staring at me, but he isn't alone. One of the men—Franklin, I think Silas said his name was—is completely captivated by me. He tugs at the sides of his suit jacket and steps into the umbrella's shadow. I can't think of how to do what Mellie just did - introduce myself, then vanish off to the side. She's good at this; I don't have the experience that she does.
“Um, hello there,” I say. I don't know what to do with my hands. I feel so awkward. “I'll get out of your hair, I was only helping Mellie finish.”
“Wait,” Franklin says. “You're not going to stay?” He comes closer, eyeing me up and down. “I remember you. You're the young woman who wore the gold dress at the ball. The one with the long hair.” He turns so that he can motion at Dominic. “You danced with this fine gentleman, if my memory serves me.”
Everyone is watching Dominic now. He nods, his smile long gone. “That's right.”
“Well,” the man says, gazing down on me benevolently. “Considering you're one of the reasons I had so much fun at that party, I think you should join us for lunch.”
Annie clears her throat. “Laiken has other things to do.”
I bob my head vigorously. “Right, I have a ton of other work that I have to get to.”
“Just a few minutes, then,” Franklin insists. There's some quiet tension in the air, and I can tell that Silas and Annie are trying to decide how to handle this request.
I really don't want to be here, but I also don't want to mess up whatever relationships they're trying to form with this company. The whole point of the party was to make these kind of connections happen so that everyone would be able to breathe easier, leaving me safe from becoming the target of their misery.
“I guess I could sit for a bit,” I say hesitantly.
Franklin's smile goes ear to knobby ear. “Perfect.”
The men from Steel Works all sit at the table. Annie and Silas join them. The only seat left puts me between Franklin and Dominic. It's the last place I want to be.
Placing myself gently on the seat that I just arranged so nicely with green silk, I pull myself closer to the table and put my hands in my lap. I don't know what to expect from this meeting. All I did was peel carrots and make bread. Those are nice things that will probably make everybody here happy, but they don't give me an edge when it comes to the conversation.
I try to remember all the things I've learned about these kinds of events. I always felt like such an outsider, but I'm definitely on the inside now.
Silas waves at the staff near the long table. “We'll take some of those drinks, please.”
A young man hurries over with one of the pitchers of mimosas. “This is a lemon and blackberry mix,” he says, filling each of our glasses to the rim. “Hope you enjoy it, but if you don't, let me know. We have other varieties here for your pleasure.”
Franklin chuckles. “The people who work for you are very accommodating, Silas.”
“That's just the kind of people I hire,” he replies. Smiling with one side of his mouth, he leans across the table towards Franklin
. “Take comfort in knowing that any of my staff here or at my banks will give you the same kind of personal service.”
“Save the hard sell,” Franklin laughs dryly. He takes a sip from his drink and nods appreciatively. “We're here because we're interested in working with you already. You don't need to bribe us with pleasantries.” He glances at me, I cringe under his too long look. “Though I do like being catered to.”
I sense his double meaning, and my stomach knots.
“What I want to know,” Franklin continues, looking back at Silas, “is why you're even bothering to court new business so openly. Your banks have grown steadily, sometimes drastically, for a long while. Are you worried about something happening to your success?”
Annie clicks her tongue. “We're not worried about anything. In fact, we were celebrating the other night because of how well we've been doing.”
There's a lot of double talk going on, things being said that mean other things, things being left to hang in the air. But I can tell that the Steel Works Company is trying to figure out if there's something more going on.
I wish I could grab Franklin by his jacket and scream into his face, “I'm here against my will! If you help them, you're an accessory! Get me out of here!”
Something bumps my shoulder. I gasp, staring at Dominic as he lifts his glass to his mouth. His elbow grazed against me as he lifted it; he smirks but doesn't look at me. My arm tingles where he touched.
I try to make myself small in the seat. I'm too aware of how close he is to me. There's probably a good five inches between us, but my hunger for him bridges the gap. I wish I could turn off the craving. It's especially hard because today he looks delectable in his sharp black suit jacket and his gold-green tie.
His beard has been shaved recently, leaving his skin extra smooth where it touches the uniform lines on his face. As I'm staring at him, he looks down at me with one eye. I catch his quick, knowing grin.
Turning my drink by the stem, I stare deeply into it. It smells like tart berries and I inhale it, working to rub out the smell of Dominic in my nose.