Love in Transit

by Jana Aston

  Find Raine here:

  Website: www.RaineMiller.com

  Facebook: @rainemillerromance

  Twitter: @Raine_Miller

  Instagram: @raine.miller2

  Wall Street Station

  Liv Morris

  Copyright © 2017 by:

  Liv Morris

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Word Nerd Editing

  Proofing Style

  Donna Salzano, Beta Reader

  This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.

  170523.155630

  Prologue

  Three years ago…

  Seraphina

  Red, white, and blue surrounds me on the terrace of my parents’ seaside home. Well … a Hampton’s estate is more accurate, with its ten bedrooms and fifteen baths.

  They’re throwing their annual Fourth of July celebration, but it’s the first time I’ve been allowed to attend. And after enduring thirty minutes, I don’t believe I’ve missed a thing. Socialites decorate the scene. Dressed in crisp white linen, they air kiss each other and throw their heads back in laughter. It’s a rinse and repeat scene of all the dinner parties my parents have hosted at our townhouse in New York City.

  I have on a white linen sundress that hits above my knees paired with gold flat sandals. My mother says it makes me look older. Which helps, since I’m the youngest person here tonight.

  I feel a bit tipsy too. I snuck some vodka into my lemonade, though I don’t think my parents will care. I’m eighteen and headed to college, practically an adult in their eyes. I down the remains of my drink and contemplate getting another one before I head up to my room.

  My parents asked me to stay until after the fireworks, but they’re swimming through the crowds, acting as the perfect hosts. I’m sure they won’t miss me if I disappear.

  Leaning against the smooth terrace wall, I notice a tall man walking along our private beach. He’s wearing a white shirt, and his khaki pants are rolled up almost to his knees. He wades ankle-deep in the water as the waves crash around his bare feet. Unable to look away from him, I wonder who he is and why he decided to leave this crowd. My parents’ friends have never made me curious—until now.

  Taking a flask from his pocket, he brings it to his lips and tilts his head back. He’s chasing something. I grab my empty glass and head to the bar. After the bartender refills my lemonade, he turns to help someone else, and I tip the vodka bottle over, letting the clear liquid top off the cup.

  “Hey,” the bartender says, catching me in the act.

  I shrug my shoulders as he winks at me, a sexy smile spreading across his face. “That’ll cost you.”

  “Nah, my parents have already paid for it.”

  “Oh, you’re that girl,” he says, and I scrunch my brows. “Man, they said you were beautiful, but wow.”

  He leans toward me, scanning the area around us. “You’re over eighteen, right?”

  “I am.” I know exactly where this conversation is headed.

  “Well, there’s a party later tonight. It’s for some of us who work here during the summers. Wanna come with me?” He licks his lips as his eyes drift to my boobs. He’s anything but subtle.

  “Can’t tonight. Parents.” I toss my head back toward the partygoers. “I have to behave.”

  “Maybe another time?” His voice is filled with hope.

  “Maybe,” I singsong before walking down the steps leading to the sandy beach—and the stranger.

  Before I make the trek across the manicured lawn, I remove my sandals and thread the straps through my fingers. The grass feels cool between my toes as shadows begin to fall.

  The darkest part of the sky touches the sea in front of me. Off in the distance, a barge floats where pyrotechnic workers are getting the fireworks ready. Once the last remnant of sunlight disappears, the show will begin. I hustle to the sand. There’s little time left before the sky’s illuminated.

  The stranger stands looking off into the ocean with his hands placed firmly in his pockets. The surging waves have reached his rolled-up hem, turning the khaki a dark beige.

  I stand near him, but not too close. I want to admire his handsome profile without being noticed just yet. His sandy blond hair blows in the wind. A masculine nose and high cheekbones are set above a sharp jawline. I move close enough to where I can reach out and touch his arm.

  “Hi,” I say quietly, not wanting to startle him. He turns his head and his eyes widen as he scans me over.

  “Well, hello,” he says with a slow smile. Slight wrinkles near the corners of his eyes give him years on me, but not too many. “Sneaking up on people can be dangerous.” He gives me wink, and it’s my first from a man.

  He continues to assess me, the tension on his face melting away.

  “I’ll be more careful next time,” I say, smiling back at him, wanting to slap myself for being so lame. I need a subject change or a new subject to rectify the situation.

  “Um … they’re getting ready to start the fireworks.” I tilt my head toward the barges.

  “I was just thinking,” he starts. “The show will take maybe fifteen minutes, yet it probably took them weeks, maybe even months, to set up.”

  “Yeah, but they don’t do it for free.” I laugh, and he joins me.

  “Seth Edmonds.” He pulls his right hand from his pocket and reaches out to me.

  “Sera,” I respond, shaking his hand. I think it’s the first time a real man has introduced himself to me. Well … without my parents at my side. Even at boarding school, we called the male teachers by their first names and high-fived each other.

  “I don’t remember seeing you here last year.” He squints one eye at me in the darkening twilight, like he’s trying to recall my face in the back of his mind.

  “It’s my first time here for the fourth.”

  “I thought so. You’re kind of unforgettable.” His voice drops on the last sentence, and I don’t think he meant for me to hear it.

  Seth waits for my response, but I have none. I’ve never had a conversation like this with a man—only boys, like the bartender on the terrace. I wonder if their motives are the same.

  Shifting my feet, I look out toward the barge again, hoping he can’t see my heart racing under my white dress.

  “Sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable,” he apologizes.

  “No, it’s fine,” I say in a rush. “Okay, maybe you made me a bit uncomfortable. But not in a bad way.”

  He laughs, and I search his face. Even in the shadows, there’s a touch of mischief in his eyes.

  “Good to hear.” He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek, his finger trailing over my skin. I feel his touch everywhere—even in forbidden places.

  I should tell him I’m Andrew Bishop’s daughter. But right now, in this moment, I’m just Sera, a young woman standing next to a handsome older man on the beach. I take a sip of my drink and bite back the smile on my lips. Maybe more alcohol was a bad idea.

  A low, thudded percussion comes from the sea, and a string of fire streams upward in the sky. A large white explosion spreads out like a giant star above us, followed by oohs and aahs from the party on the terrace.

  “Beautiful,” Seth says.

  Turning, I find him looking at me. His eyes are heavy. I’ve seen a similar look from boys at school, but on a man, it makes a shiver run over my skin. My nipples peak. Maybe this is how men act—no games and right to the point.

  “We don’t have time to make it back to the house,” Seth says, and I nod.

  Taking my hand, he pulls me toward a rock wall a few feet away. When we stop in front of it, he places his hands around my waist. Looking me in the eye, he lifts me up and gently sits me down. His grip is strong, and I miss his hands on me after they’re gone.

  He leans against the wall next to me as fireworks con
tinue to light up the sky. His fingers graze my leg. It’s a simple, still touch, and he doesn’t move them away.

  Silently, we watch the fireworks, until the last sparkling ember falls, leaving a hollowness in the air, the only sound the ebb and flow of the tide.

  What do I do? If I stay, I fear what may happen with him … even though part of me wants to find out.

  “The Bishops know how to throw a party.” He turns toward me, and I wonder, does he see me as an eighteen-year-old girl, or has the darkness of the night hidden the true me? Or maybe he doesn’t care? If that’s the case, I’m in trouble.

  “I better get back.” I place my hands on the edge of the wall and jump to the ground.

  “I’ll walk you back.” Seth places his hand on the small of my back, but I don’t move.

  My parents will kill me if I show up with him—or, more likely, my dad will kill him. Either way, the night will end in a disaster.

  “I better go first. Alone.” It’s too dark for me to see the exact expression in his eyes, but both his hands are in his pockets again.

  “You have a boyfriend?” he asks, and I don’t miss the disappointment in his tone.

  “I’m here with family.” It’s more than half the truth, but my omission is like the worst lie.

  “I enjoyed the fireworks with you.” His words are meant to tease me, and they do as I imagine the sparks his lips could create against my skin. I need to leave now, before it’s too late…

  “Goodbye, Seth.” I run from the beach toward the house, leaving my glass and sandals behind. My heart pounds in my chest, more from adrenaline than the effort.

  Avoiding the terrace and my parents, I cross the lawn, making my way to the back service door. I find it unlocked, so I escape inside, jog up the back stairway, and head to the room overlooking the terrace. Keeping the lights off, I open the shutters and pull a chair up to the window, watching for Seth to come back to the party, but he hasn’t returned. Surely, I wouldn’t miss him in the crowd.

  I yawn, the alcohol and excitement making me tired. Curling up in the chair, my eyes start to shut, no matter how hard I fight them.

  “There you are.” My mother shakes my shoulder. I blink my eyes open and face the morning sun shining through the window. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Did you sleep in this chair?” Her face shows lines of worry.

  “I came up here to watch the fireworks. I must’ve fallen asleep.” When she smiles down at me, I feel a tinge of guilt—more for what I wanted to do last night than what actually happened.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay.” She ruffles my hair and shakes her head. “You need to get cleaned up fast. Your father wants to introduce you to his new attorney.”

  “You woke me up for that?” I roll my eyes at her.

  “Go comb that bird’s nest on top of your head and change into clean clothes. You have fifteen minutes before you’ll be expected in his study.”

  “Okay,” I moan as my mother leaves the room.

  Fourteen minutes later, I stand outside the door to my father’s study, straightening my tank top and maybe too short shorts. Glancing down at my feet, I realize I forgot shoes. Oh well.

  I knock on the door and wait. “Come in,” my father calls through the wood. I turn the brass knob and enter the room, but my breath leaves me.

  Seth, the gorgeous man from last night, rises out of a leather chair by my father’s desk. His mouth drops open the second his eyes meet mine.

  “Seraphina,” my father says in his baritone voice. “This is Seth Edmonds.”

  “Hello,” I squeak, still standing by the door. I can’t seem to move my legs. It doesn’t matter, though. Seth walks toward me, a knowing smirk on his lips.

  “Nice to meet you, Seraphina.” He emphasizes the beginning of my name and shakes my hand for the second time, dragging his thumb over my palm before breaking contact. “Do you go by Sera, perhaps?”

  I nod, and he gives me a quick wink, just like last night. I glance at my father. He has no idea I’ve already shared something not totally innocent with his attorney.

  “Mr. Edmonds is helping me with your trust fund. He’s promised to make sure you’re taken care of if anything happens to me.”

  Chapter 1

  Seth

  The urge to wrap my large hands around Seraphina’s waist, as I’ve dreamt of doing all the other times we’ve met in my office, burns inside me. But her slender frame worries me.

  Everything about her makes me uneasy. Maybe it’s my reaction to her long legs that never seem to end, or her almost too big eyes that regard me with hope. The deep blue of their depths contrast with her porcelain skin, giving her an untainted innocence that drives me wild. I push my hands into my pockets for her safety, and clear my throat.

  “Good to see you, Seraphina. Have a seat.” I motion to the empty chair in front of my mahogany desk. “Did my assistant ask to hang up your coat?”

  “Oh, yes. But I’m fine. Really.” She pulls the collar of her coat closer, but not before I notice a slip of cream-colored lace.

  Like a thirsty man, I lick my lips at the thought of what’s underneath her belted trench coat. I should be ashamed of myself. Seated before me is a troubled girl in need of my legal help to survive, yet all I can think about is stripping her naked and burying my face between her legs.

  She moves toward the chair with the grace of a skilled dancer. I hate glancing away from her for even a split second, but my gaze is too focused and might give her the wrong idea … even though I want this woman in my arms like my next breath.

  I watch her willowy body fold into the chair. Her movements mesmerize me. I try to not imagine her under me, or, better yet, moving on top of me as we fuck with my hand wrapped around her long golden hair.

  My cock strains against the zipper of my pants, and I move to adjust myself. It’s time to fucking change the subject. Taking a seat behind my desk, I fold my hands over my raging problem and crease my brow as I shift in my seat.

  I called her yesterday, asking her to stop by my office. I made up some lame excuse to get her here and wasn’t sure what to say now that I had. I should’ve thought of that before she walked through my door.

  “How have you been?” I ask.

  Fuck. What a stupid question. Her father lost his fortune, then committed suicide, and her mother pops pills to hide away from the world, making Seraphina’s life a living hell.

  “I’m okay. Thank you,” she says with a forced smile, but her face falls as she looks down at her hands.

  My chest aches in an odd hollow way while I stare at her, hoping she’ll look back up at me. “And your mother?”

  She raises her head before answering, but I know her response when I see tears swimming in her eyes.

  “I don’t know what to do with her. She hasn’t left our small apartment in weeks and hardly ever eats. She refuses to answer calls from her friends or let them visit.”

  “Maybe it’s time we try to get her help.” I rise from my chair and circle my desk, then lean across the edge in front of her.

  “How?” she wipes away a falling tear, and I hand her a tissue. “Thanks,” she says while dabbing her face with it.

  “I can work on getting her admitted to a hospital as an in-patient.”

  “I don’t see how that’s possible. I don’t have money to pay for your legal fees, let alone a hospital.”

  “Your father was a long-time client with this firm and paid us millions over the years. It’s the least I can do under the circumstances.”

  “Someday, I’ll pay you back for all you’ve done to help me and my mother. I promise.”

  I imagine her on her knees under my desk with her lips wrapped around my cock. Fuck, it’s a fucked up thought, and I want to slap myself. She owes me nothing, and the last thing this young woman needs is a pervert trying to get into her pants.

  I need to focus on helping her, and easing her burdens as a pro bono attorney for her father’s decimated estate is the l
east I can do. Other than a few gold coins she was given on birthdays, which I find odd as hell, Seraphina has nothing but a tied-up trust fund, frozen by the legal system as creditors circle for any left over cent.

  “What are you doing for lunch today? We can talk more about what to do with your mother.”

  It’s a lame attempt at getting her to do more than see me as an attorney. Try as I might, I can’t stow away my attraction toward her.

  “I’m sorry. I have an appointment. Maybe another time.” She glances away, and I wonder if she is telling me the truth or trying to give me a polite no.

  “Sure. I understand.” I mask my disappointment with a smile.

  “I need to go or I’ll be late. Will you let me know what can be done for my mother?”

  “Of course. I’ll even stop by and speak with her.”

  “She won’t leave her room. Not even for Tina, her lifelong friend. But thank you.”

  Rising from the chair, she straightens her coat, but not before the soft white lace peeks through once more. What is she hiding? It’s almost like lingerie. The thought of her body being barely covered in small pieces of silk only aggravates my craving for her.

  “Can you come back later this week?” I sound desperate even to my own ears.

  “I’ll try. Maybe on Friday afternoon. Does that work?”

  “Of course.” Anything to see you again. “I’ll work on this issue with your mother. I need her signature on a couple documents. Maybe that will get her to answer my calls.”