by Dani René
She follows me down the hallway to the staircase, and we silently make our way into the dining room, where the dresses are now hanging freely. All I see is white lace and satin, along with jeweled tiaras I know will look exquisite on Scarlett.
Only the best for my future wife.
“This is…” Her voice is tinged with awe, her pouty lips parted with shock as she takes in the set up. Her lashes flutter, and those dark-rimmed irises are wide as she looks at every inch of the space before turning her wide gaze to me.
The designer rushes forward with a bright smile on her face. “Welcome, Miss Bardot. I’m Opal. Such a pleasure to meet you. I trust we’ll have something to your liking.” When Opal glances at me, I nod, taking my leave as I pull the doors shut. But before I disappear, I lock my gaze on Scarlett’s and give her a warning glare. Behave.
Back in my office, I’m nervous. I’ve never felt like this before. Usually, I’m calm, relaxed, even when taking down my opposition. But Scarlett does something to me.
She makes me want.
She makes me crave.
She makes me human.
And that can never be a good thing.
18
Scarlett
The first dress didn’t have much material to it, and I have a feeling that Lycan had something to do with that. The second one was pretty, but it wasn’t something I would be caught dead in with the almost nonexistent front and back. My cleavage was prominent, far too exposed if he intends to make me walk into a church.
I grew up in the church, going to catechism, learning passages from the Bible until they were ingrained into my mind, never leaving, and even though I don’t go every Sunday, there is no way I’ll be standing in front of a priest wearing that.
If that’s what Lycan wants, he can find someone else to marry.
“Let’s try this one,” Opal says after I’ve undressed for the third time today. She’s pretty, and for a split second, I wonder if Lycan’s dated her, or if he’s been intimate with her. A spike of jealousy crashes through me before I pull myself together and offer her a smile.
“So, how long have you known Mr. Shaw?” I query as I take the slip she’s holding out to me. Her gaze lands on mine, but there’s no guilt or jealousy in her pretty eyes.
“A few months. He was at one of my fashion shows,” she remembers with a smile. “He even offered to donate toward my charity. I have to say, you’re very lucky.”
My mouth opens, but no words come out. I’m not sure if I am lucky or if my luck had run out, and I was left with a man who bought me. “What charity is it?” I ask instead of talking more about my future husband.
Her gaze drops to the floor, and I can tell she’s nervous from the way her hands twist in front of her. “I…Uhm… I’ve always wanted to support women, to show them they’re strong, not because they’re a wife or mother, but because they’re warriors. So, I started up a charity to help women coming from abused homes.” This time when she looks up at me, my heart stutters.
“That’s amazing.” It’s the truth. I’ve heard about women living in fear daily. Women who aren’t strong enough to fight back but also feel stuck. “You know,” I start, turning to face her fully. “I’d love to interview you. I’m a media relations student, and I’ll be interning in New York next month. It would be an incredible story to take to the company.”
Opal’s eyes widen. Her smile is bright, lighting up her face with excitement. “That is something I would definitely love to do.” She grins, and we move back to the mirror, where I look at what I’m wearing.
The material of the sleek, floor-length, satin dress hugs my curves. For some reason, looking at myself in the mirror makes this all too real. As the girls flurry around me like excited hummingbirds, ready to flit into the clear, blue sky, I turn my gaze away from my reflection and out to the garden. I don’t want to admit that this feels like some strange and twisted fairy tale.
Every girl dreams of her wedding day. I, for one, never thought I’d marry someone of my own choice. And it’s as if those thoughts brought Lycan to me. Because I didn’t choose him, and yet here I am, donning a princess dress which looks like it’s straight from the pages of a book.
My prince isn’t a knight in shining armor but a commanding wolf in an expensive, tailored suit. Once everyone steps back, I realize I was lost in thought, and when I glance at Opal, she’s grinning as if she’s just won the lottery.
“This is it,” she coos as she claps her hands together excitedly. I want to turn, but in the same vein, I want to run and hide. I want them to remove the mirror, so I don’t look at just how perfectly this dress fits.
“Are you sure?” I ask, still nervous, keeping my eyes from landing on the glass to my left. She grins wider, nodding quickly as she takes the veil and gestures toward me. I offer her a small smile and tip my head so she can place the bejeweled crown with sheer lace over my hair. It hangs low behind me; the weight of it is astounding.
“Yes. A picture of perfection.” She offers me a chef’s kiss before stepping back and allowing me space. As much as I don’t want to be excited to see the result, I do turn and face the mirror finally. My breath is stolen for a long moment as I look at the woman staring back at me.
Atop the satin shift is a gown made purely of lace. Now I see why I had to put the silky material on first. If I didn’t, this would be see-through. The lace covers my chest to my neck. It cinches at my waist before exploding into a wide circle all the way to the shiny marble tiles.
I twist and turn, taking in every angle. The back is completely bare, with thin lace twisting from my shoulders down to the base of my spine, creating a delicate V-shape. The veil hanging down my back looks like it’s been made from the most fragile snowflakes with a delicate pattern of unique shapes.
The crown on my head sparkles in the light coming in from the floor-to-ceiling doors to my right. Doors that could lead to my freedom if I ran right now. But I wouldn’t get far because I know my captor will not let me go.
Opal picks up a box that was sitting on a chair behind her and brings it to me. “This is for you. I think it will suit the dress.” She hands me the gift, a rectangular, merlot-colored box with a red ribbon. When I tug at the bow, it falls away easily, and I lift the lid to find a gold bracelet. When I lift it from the suede cushion, a small charm dangles, and I have to set the box down to get a better look.
“This is gorgeous,” I tell her, but my eyes are focused on the charm between my thumb and forefinger. A small, intricately designed wolf with a deep-set green eye, watching me. “This is…”
“Mr. Shaw said that I should give this to you, to wear on the wedding day,” Opal tells me. “He left it here with a note.” She points to the chair before looking at my shocked face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, sorry. I think I’m just overwhelmed.” I take a step back and slowly move toward the mirror, where I finally allow myself to look, to really look at the woman there. The one staring back at me with her cheeks flushed, her lips pouty, and her eyes sparkling with emotion.
The dress is perfect.
“This is it,” I tell myself, but Opal claps excitedly behind me. As much as I want to tell her to save me, to call my father and tell him what’s happened, I don’t. Instead, I smile. If Lycan wants arm candy, I can be that. If he wants someone who’ll run his businesses with him, I can even do that. But if he thinks for one moment he’s going to get me to change my name at the end of the month, he’s wrong, and I’ll show him that.
He may not have wanted me before we met, and he may only want this wedding to happen because of some archaic contract, but I’ll make him fall in love with me, and then I’ll run. I’ll escape into the darkness of the forest, and he won’t ever find me.
Four weeks until my birthday. It’s a long time to let someone in, to feel something for someone, and the moment I see the humanity in his gaze, I’ll be the one to strike. I’ll end him and this godforsaken agreement my father has allowed.
/> I’m not a toy.
I’m not a possession.
But I can play the part just as well as anyone.
19
Scarlett
By the time I’ve had a shower, and I’m sitting on my window seat, I’m exhausted. The dress I chose is perfect. It’s absolutely breathtaking, and I’m sure Lycan will agree. I catch myself sighing as I wonder why I’m even going ahead with this, even wondering what he’ll think. It’s not like me to give in, to submit to a man, especially after what he’s done to keep me here. But if I’m going to play into his game, get him to love me, and then end this farce, I need to make sure he trusts me, which is why I accepted his ring.
My bedroom door opens with a silent murmur against the plush carpets, and I’m met with one of the maids. Dressed in black and white, she looks to be about my age, or perhaps a few years older. She offers a small smile as she sets down a silver tray with a glass of red wine, along with a white envelope. My name is scrawled in elegant handwriting on the front.
“What’s this?”
“Mr. Shaw has requested you have some wine, and also, he’s left you a note.” Of course, he did. The young woman nods before she leaves me in the room, pulling the door closed behind her. I want to run after the girl and ask her more questions. But I focus on the note instead.
I pick up the envelope, slowly unfolding the flap to pull out the note my fiancé wrote. The immaculate script is beautiful, and I allow my gaze to rove over the perfectly formed letters.
Tonight, you’ll dine with me, and perhaps we can take this a step further.
L.
Direct and no-nonsense.
Just like the man himself.
I realize he’s someone who doesn’t like the word no, and he’s also someone who always gets what he wants. If I were to tell him I’m not hungry, or I’d rather eat alone, he’d march up here and lift me over his shoulder, kicking and screaming. And he’d enjoy it too. I’ll then be carried down to the dining room. So instead of fighting, I’ll follow his rules.
Padding over the carpet, I make my way to the closet to find something to wear. I have an inkling that this isn’t going to be a “burger and fries” type of dinner after last night, so I need to ensure I’m elegant, yet sexy. If I want the man to fall in love with me, I should appear to be ready to take the next step with him.
Which brings a thought to my mind—if he wants me as his wife, he’ll want sex. Heat coils through me, settling low in my gut as I recall his fingers, how they taunted and teased, how I fell apart as he touched me. His perfectly timed strokes sent me reeling, and I don’t doubt he would and could do it again and again.
Flicking through the hangers, I find an emerald satin cocktail dress the same color as Lycan’s eyes. The garment is far too exquisite to wear in the house, but I can’t help the need coursing through me to impress him, to show him I’m not some stupid girl he can boss around.
I’m a woman.
I take the item into the bedroom and lay it on the bed. Next, I choose lingerie which has been packed in a glass cabinet in the walk-in closet. There’s everything from white cotton panties to black and red lace. Picking out a charcoal set, I smile for a moment, wondering if he’ll even see this tonight. The bra and panty are made of sheer lace, with thin straps that feel like heaven across my skin.
I find a pair of silver heels I slip on after I’ve donned the dress. At the vanity, which steals my breath each time I take in the scene of the wolf chasing Red, I settle on the stool and start applying some lip gloss over a nude shade I found in one of the drawers. As I line my eyes with black, I allow my mind to develop a plan of action.
The mascara makes my lashes seem even longer and curled. And when I’m done, I sit back for a moment to summon the courage to face him again. I haven’t seen Lycan since he left me in the dining room with Opal. Nervously, I get to my feet and head for the door, which I find still unlocked. In the hallway, it’s deathly silent, and I’m thankful for the peace before I have to make conversation with the man who wants to marry me.
I move toward the staircase with ease, taking in the tapestries hanging high against the walls. The home is enormous, just like my grandmother’s. I have to ask Lycan if I can talk to her, to see her. With the Bardot Gala coming up quickly, I’m sure she’s worried about where I’ve disappeared to unless Lycan has fed her some story about how I’m spending time with him.
The thought coils in my stomach, anger flaring as I reach the steps and take them slowly, wanting to prolong my alone time. But I can’t put this off forever, so when I reach the double doors of the dining room, I stop, inhale a deep, cleansing breath, and release it before I push my way into the vast space.
Everything has been returned to normal. The furniture—table, and chairs—fill the center of the room, allowing the cabinets against the walls to frame the place settings where I spot Lycan at the head of the table.
He’s dressed impeccably, just like I knew he would be. His suit jacket is unbuttoned, allowing me a view of his button-up, which is a dark gray, reminding me of storm clouds on a cool winter’s day. The color pops against the pitch black of his pants and jacket. I don’t miss the fact that he’s not wearing a tie, and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. A glimpse of tanned skin has my mind wandering alone into territory I’d rather steer clear from.
“My soon-to-be wife,” he voices, his tone filled with arrogant confidence. His lips quirk as his eyes hungrily rove over me. He takes in my long, red waves, then his heated stare burns its way over my face, to my lips, and down, finding my cleavage just peeking out from the neckline of the dress.
When he reaches my legs, he lifts his fist to his mouth and stifles a cough before coming toward me. His long strides swallow up the distance instantly, and seconds later, he’s looming over me like a starving predator ready to devour its prey.
“You look rather breathtaking this evening,” Lycan murmurs in a low, seductive baritone, which has my spine tingling with awareness of just how close he is. His eyes, those gemstones, shine with a ferocious need that heats me from head to toe.
“Thank you,” is all I manage before he steps back and offers me his hand. I accept with trembling fingers, and he leads me to a chair to the left of him. He pulls it out, allowing me to settle before pushing it in. Everything is shimmering under the dim yellow bulbs from the chandelier, and even Lycan looks like a dark angel sent from the depths of hell to dine with me tonight.
“How was the dress fitting?” he asks as he waves his hand toward the staff who bring out plates they set down in front of us. The presentation is gorgeous with finely chopped herbs around the edge of the porcelain, and in the center is a miniature bruschetta with smoked salmon and cream cheese. Adorning this beautiful appetizer is a dollop of caviar. I’ve only ever tried it once but am looking forward to tasting it again.
“It was good,” I tell him, meeting those eyes that seem to pierce right through me, searching for something deep within. Something I’m not willing to give him, not yet. But the moment I think it, I realize I need to offer him more, because if my plan is going to work, Lycan needs to believe this is becoming real. “I found a dress. It’s perfect.”
“I’m sure it is. Opal informed me she gave you the gift?” I watch him lift his wine glass, press it to his full, pink mouth, and take a long, languid sip. I can’t deny he’s handsome, more than I could ever have imagined a man to be, but he’s the bad guy.
“Yes. Thank you.” I turn my focus onto my food and lift the starter to my mouth to take a bite. As my teeth sink in, the flavors burst on my tongue. An involuntary moan vibrates in my throat, and when my gaze finds Lycan’s, heat burns in those gemstones.
“I’ve always enjoyed watching a woman feast. There’s something so erotic about it,” he murmurs. A small quirk at the corner of his mouth makes him look like a starving beast rather than a man.
“Oh?” I ask after swallowing the last bite. “Is that a line you use on all your women?” I
taunt, causing fire to blaze in his stare. My stomach coils with both anxiety at taunting the wolf and desire at wanting him. Confusion twists its way through me like a coiling serpent about to strike. I can’t allow myself to fall into his trap.
“All my women don’t dine with me,” Lycan offers. “Yes, there are some who have accompanied me to parties, but none have seen the inside of my personal space. My home is mine.”
“So, you’ve never brought a woman home?” Incredulity thrums through the words, vibrating each syllable with confusion. He’s a handsome, wealthy bachelor, one who must have women falling over themselves to be with him.
“I’m not into relationships. I prefer…” He lifts his fingers to his lips, tapping on them gently as he considers what to tell me. And I find myself leaning forward, intrigued by how he’s about to explain his confession. “Women who aren’t around for very long.”
“So, you prefer escorts who leave after the deed is done?” Once again, I sound like I’m judging him, and perhaps I am in some way. I don’t have any right to, but the anxiety that took hold of me earlier turns to an emotion I cannot admit I’m feeling.
A chuckle falls free from Lycan’s mouth, his lips parted in a way that allows me a glimpse of pearly whites, while his face lights up in amusement. “No, little red,” he says. “I don’t pay women to fuck me.” His voice turns to lava, burning through every inch of my body, causing goosebumps to flare over my skin. “They beg, they plead, and they find bliss while I taunt and tease.” His gaze, locks on mine, and I’m caught in his web. I can’t turn away. “Would you like that, little red?”
My mouth pops open, but I can’t find the words. I’m saved when the staff returns, clearing our plates and bringing in the main course. I’m pleasantly surprised to find a bed of couscous covered with stir-fried vegetables. To the side is a thick, juicy steak, along with a salad made of lettuce, tomato, more herbs, and olives.