by Cadence Vonn
Table of Contents
Play a Game
Publication Information
Dedication
Author Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Also Available
Also Read
Thank You
Play a Game with Me
by
Cadence Vonn
Games People Play
Book One
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Play a Game with Me
COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Cadence Vonn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2017
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1766-3
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1767-0
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my husband.
Thank you for always supporting my dreams.
Author Acknowledgments
Thanks a million to Jennifer Anne for being my sounding board. A big thank you to Sharon for her editing skills and her patience. Also, a group hug and thank you to all my CPRW writer friends for all the encouragement—you rock!
Chapter One
The workroom in Tess Medici’s Boston apartment was strewn with discarded scraps of material, and most of the surfaces were covered with half-finished costumes. “Why on earth would I want to go to such an uptight garden party?” She jabbed a long sewing needle into the waistband of the long gown on the mannequin before her.
“Thank goodness there isn’t a person inside that dress.” Her best friend Chris relaxed on the over-stuffed couch, sipping a glass of red wine. “She’d be poked full of holes. What’s wrong with you today? I just asked you to a party. I didn’t ask you to marry the man, for God’s sake.”
Tess put her fingers to her temples and let out a resigned sigh. “I talked with my father last evening.” Her voice changed, and with her perfect nose up in the air, she spoke with her best pompous British accent. “He wishes for me to return to London, so he can introduce me to some acquaintances.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not sure how many times I’ve told him I’m not looking for a husband. I guess last night might have been the thousandth time.” She jammed the needle into the garment again, stamped her foot, and growled at the stubborn material.
“This won’t be anything like what your father would put you through. No one will take a second look at you.”
She put her hands on her hips and huffed at Chris. “Thanks, I appreciate the compliment.”
“That’s not what I meant. I only meant they wouldn’t look at you for wife material for Maximilian. You’re obviously not New England blue blood.”
“My mother was born in New England, so what am I?” She glared at him.
“You’re a beautiful, voluptuous woman.” Chris scanned her body. “You have a figure other women envy. Men drool after you. And I love your ability to think for yourself. But I’m only your best friend. I’m sure a lover might have other things to say about you.”
“So that makes me less appropriate for Maximilian’s wife?” She smirked. “The fact that I’ve had lovers.”
“No.” He tapped his chin with his forefinger. “You’re a combination of Italian goddess with a hint of blue-eyed British stuffiness to your backbone. Most men like Maximilian would find you too difficult to handle. You weren’t raised to put up with a man who wants his wife to be beautiful and keep her mouth shut. You may have been born in Massachusetts, but you’ve got a fiery personality.”
“Much to my father’s frustration. I’m more like my mother, although she’s working on husband number three, and I’m not looking for a husband at all.”
“So then you have nothing to fear about the party. You can come and enjoy the mansion by the water, eat delicious food and sip expensive champagne. Please. I really need a date or my parents will think I’m gay.”
“Chris, you are gay. Why don’t you just tell them?”
“Not a chance. I don’t want to give either of them a coronary and have my brother going on about how he knew. He’s such a jerk-off.”
Tess shook her head and sighed. “You’ll owe me big time. I’m thinking somewhere along the line of dinner at Top of the Hub, with a table by the windows and all the trimmings.”
“Deal. I’ll even throw in a straight guy to warm your bed if you like. I do know a few who would love to wrestle with you under the sheets.”
“No, thanks. I’ll find my own lover in my own good time. For now, I’ve sworn off men so I can get on with my career.”
“A hot twenty-seven-year-old celibate babe…that is definitely an oxymoron. You need to have your itch scratched every now and then so you don’t become a bitch.”
“Spoken by a man who just drools over guys because he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s gay.”
“When I travel, I dabble. Maybe you need to go on a vacation. A trip to London just might be the ticket. Relieve your itch and then come home.”
“A trip to visit my father would not be a vacation. Maybe a trip to visit my mother in Italy might be okay, but then I would have to put up with her calling me a friend because she doesn’t want anyone to know she has a daughter my age. Really, I’ll just stay here and focus on my work.” Tess grabbed a larger needle and attempted to secure the sash around the waist of the costume. No amount of adjusting looked right. Tonight might not be the time to sew.
“The party is Sunday at noon.” Chris stood and stretched. “We’ll leave here at eleven, so we don’t arrive late. Aunt Millicent is a stickler for punctuality, and my mother would never hear the end of it if I didn’t arrive on time.”
“Millicent and Maximilian. Who thought of those names?” Tess scrunched up her nose and gave a soft snort.
“We Westfields have very traditional names. I’ve talked about my brother, William III. He’s named after my father, William II. He married my mother, Edith.”
“And you are the second son, so you got stuck with Christopher. It will be fun to meet them. Won’t they be surprised you’re bringing me?” She tossed her needle on the table and followed him out to the kitchen where he deposited his dirty wine glass in the sink.
“Since I’ve mentioned a nonexistent woman on occasion, they insist on meeting her. Thus I’ll bring you.”
Who’s Maximilian’s father?”
“He was Maximilian II. They say he died of a heart attack on the golf course. But rumor has it he died in his mistress’s arms, and she moved the body in the dead of night.”
“Now yo
u’re lying.” Tess gave her friend a sideways glance.
He shrugged. “Nothing was proven, but he didn’t have both of his socks on when the groundskeeper found him.”
She laughed so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “So I guess talking to Max about his father might not be appropriate.” She choked out.
“Correct. And don’t call him Max, either. It’s Maximilian.”
“Oh, this should be so much fun.”
He opened the door to leave and looked back when Tess stopped him.
“Chris, don’t forget to introduce…”
He held up his hand and interrupted her. “I know. Introduce you as Tess Medici, not Staffordshire. You have no room to talk about me not being honest about who I am.” He raised his eyebrow at her and left her standing in the middle of her apartment.
It was rare Chris got the last word. She chuckled, wishing he wasn’t gay. He made such a great sparring partner, he had to be a sexy lover.
****
Sunday morning a horn beeped below, and Tess grabbed her purse and headed out the door. She hiked up her skirt to slide into the low bucket seat and winked at Chris.
“Not only will my parents think I’m getting some action, my brother will be so pissed he didn’t find you first. Watch out for him. He has a fiancée but still looks for lovers. He’s such an ass. I love your dress by the way. Is it your own design?”
“A little bit of my twist on a famous design. I would never pass it off as my own.”
“I don’t understand why you’re not a fashion designer instead of a costume designer.”
“I don’t like working with bitchy models. I love the real bodies on both the men and women in the theatre. They play real characters, and I help create moods with the wardrobes. I enjoy making clothes for myself because I’m not a bitch.”
Chris laughed. He zipped along the highway in his BMW roadster, the top up so hair stayed in place.
She liked the way his perfectly spiked hair added a touch of sexiness to his close-trimmed beard. The reddish tint of the stubble accentuated his green eyes, and he looked hunky in his black slacks and white shirt. His sports coat would be laid out in the spotless trunk so it wouldn’t be wrinkled when they got there. Knowing him, he would’ve left his pants in the trunk if he could’ve figured out how to put them on without witnesses.
Millicent Westfield’s home stood on a bluff near Marblehead. The wind-swept trees bent away from the water and added a rugged appearance to the landscape.
“Some people call this a castle sitting on the hill.” Chris’s voice held a boastful tone as they approached the large stone and weathered-shingle mansion.
“You Americans,” Tess teased. “In England, this would be considered a cottage. It would fit in the downstairs of my father’s country house. Even he doesn’t call that a castle.”
“If I were you, I’d keep that bit of information to myself if you don’t want them to get a whiff of heiress. Smile and tell them it’s a lovely home.”
He handed his keys to the valet, walked around the car to grab his coat and escorted Tess inside. “Let me find my mother and father, so I can introduce you. Remember, they think we’re dating.”
“No problem. We go out together.” She gave him a flirty shrug. “We’re just not boyfriend and girlfriend.”
He led them over to a couple that appeared well preserved or altered to look younger. Tess couldn’t tell. People mingled all around the large space. She found it odd that no one sat on the white furniture, but instead stood to talk and sip cocktails. Colorful summer dresses adorned most of the women while the men wore pale linen sports coats with crisp shirts and khakis. Chris’s parents stood off to the side of the crowd, not mingling with the younger groups around them.
“Mother and Father, I’d like you to meet Tess Medici. Tess, this is my mother, Edith Westfield, and my father, William Westfield.”
His father held out his hand, and Tess reached out to shake it.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Medici. I’d like to say our son has told us all about you, but he doesn’t tell us much these days.” He scanned Tess’s body with a quick glance before he glared at Chris.
“It’s nice to meet you both.” She didn’t comment on his father’s remark. She didn’t think he would appreciate knowing she and Chris had been friends for three years.
“I better introduce Tess to Aunt Millicent. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” He steered her away as his mother opened her mouth to speak. “Try to avoid my parents, especially my mother, unless you want to be drilled about our relationship.”
“I can stretch the truth with the best of them.”
“And what would you say to her if she asked you point blank if we’ve slept together?”
“Well, we have slept together. Remember the time we went skiing and had to share a hotel room? So I wouldn’t be lying if I said yes.”
“Therein lies the trap. She doesn’t really want to know if we slept together. She wants to make sure I’m not gay and then condemn you for having sex before you’re married. You can’t win with my mother, so avoid her.”
Once on the terrace, Tess paused. She loved the ocean. It was never the same color twice. She would love a palette of fabric in all the blues and grays that culminated in glorious silver waves that crashed against the rocks.
“There’s my aunt. And how fortunate I can introduce you to Maximilian himself. She’s throwing this party to line up prospective brides for him.”
Tess looked in the direction Chris led her. The air around Maximilian filled her senses, and she inhaled a breath. Lime, sandalwood and a touch of salty sea air.
“Aunt Millicent, Maximilian, I’d like you to meet my friend, Tess Medici. Tess, my Aunt Millicent and cousin Maximilian.” Tess focused on their faces as she tried not to stare at the woman’s ghastly cotton-candy pink outfit. It was made of shantung, and the soft material should have caressed the woman’s curves, but instead, it bunched in all the wrong places, accentuating her flaws.
“My dear, it is so nice to meet a friend of Christopher’s.” Millicent angled her head like an arrogant queen spending time with the common folk. “He so rarely brings a woman to family gatherings.”
Maximilian shook his head; a small twitch of a smile played at the corner of his mouth as if he knew a secret.
“It’s nice to meet you both. You have a lovely home, Mrs. Westfield.”
“Thank you, dear. Please, call me Millicent. Is Tess short for anything?”
“I suppose many things. But I go by Tess.” She noticed the twitch was back at the corner of Maximilian’s mouth, and with apparent superhuman strength, he wrestled it down and remained stoic. She’d love to see him smile. He must do it now and then because there were a few laugh lines at the edges of his soft gray eyes. His sun-streaked dark hair lay in neat waves, and the urge to mess it up made her fingers flex. He had no stubble on his face like Chris. His jaw didn’t need the added shadow to make it stronger. Tess would’ve enjoyed scanning his body, but she didn’t dare in front of his eagle-eyed mother.
Instead, she plastered on the artificial smile she used for her father’s acquaintances. “Chris was giving me a tour of the beautiful grounds, so we won’t keep you from your other guests.” She took his arm, and he led her away from the glare of his aunt.
“Why didn’t you just tell her it’s Teresa?” Chris mumbled. “I think she thinks you’re rude.”
She shrugged. “My name is Tess. Why wouldn’t she accept that and say hello?”
“Never mind, let’s get a drink. A glass of champagne sounds really good right now.”
“You grab one, I’m not thirsty. I’ll stand here and admire the view. The ocean is majestic today. The sun has caused the wave caps to turn a brilliant white as they wash to shore. I’d love a view like this.”
He got a glass of champagne from the bartender and returned to Tess. “It comes with a hefty price, and I’m not talking money. Having to deal with Aunt Millicent wo
uld be enough to turn anyone against the view and wish for a peaceful mountain setting. Why don’t we stroll around the gardens?” He maneuvered her around a group then came to an abrupt halt. “Oh shit!”
“What?” She followed his glare.
“My brother and his fiancée are heading in this direction. Quick. Inside.” He nudged her through the French doors and wove through the throng of people milling around the dining room and down a hall, opened a door, and pulled her into the library.
“Oh, my…” Tess spun around. “Now this is impressive.” Books had always been her solace when she was growing up. Her parents were rarely around, and the only staff person who talked to her was Lizzy, the housekeeper. Her tutors made sure she could read, write and do math, but books opened up the world to her.
She scanned the different shelves and caressed the leather that covered poetry books. Shelves and shelves of art books stretched to the ceiling, only reachable by ladder. “Chris, why don’t you go find another glass of champagne? I’ll stay here and enjoy the sun coming in on the window seat and read some poetry.”
“If you’re sure? Now that Mother and Father have met you, I can mingle, and I doubt anyone will disturb you in here. It doesn’t seem like it’s ever used. I’ll come and find you in a little while. Or feel free to wander around and enjoy the sights when you get bored. Buzz my cellphone if you need me.”
With the click of the door, Tess turned her attention to the books and removed a volume by Rainer Maria Rilke. Duino Elegies, one of her favorite books of poems. This copy had been translated into English, but years ago she’d first read it in German. She kicked off her shoes and curled up on the window seat and relaxed like a cat in a pool of sunshine.
****
Maximilian couldn’t take his eyes off of Tess. The way her bottom moved in her fitted dress made his cock twitch to life. Her soft, dark curls bounced over her bare shoulders and down her back as she walked with Christopher. When his mother questioned her name, Tess’s blue eyes flashed a hint of defiance. Without flinching, she rebuffed the woman.
Nothing about her screamed boring like most of the available women at the party. Even the few married women who still flirted with him, hoping ten years later he would revisit their beds, didn’t move him the way this seductress did. How in the world Chris found her was beyond him. The man couldn’t possibly please a woman like Tess. He would love to give it a try. Kissing the smirk off her luscious red lips would be exciting.