by Violet Paige
I was as humiliated as she was. I whispered to her, but I didn’t know what to say. So, I just told her she looked beautiful. It was all I could think of before I was tossed through the doors and expected to walk down the aisle ahead of her to organ music.
That night after the reception I asked my father if he knew Gigi didn’t want to marry Danny. I asked him if he knew Uncle Gio forced her into it. He loosened his tie and laughed.
“It was a good business deal for Gio. It doesn’t matter what Gigi thinks of Danny. She’s lucky,” my father answered.
I didn’t sleep that night. I tried not to think about my cousin on her way to Rome for her honeymoon, but she was all I could think about. I didn’t want a Danny. I didn’t want a honeymoon in Italy. I didn’t want any of the things that were ahead of me.
I blinked. I didn’t know what Knight thought he could control about my father. It wasn’t possible. Didn’t know Gigi’s? Hadn’t he seen this story end?
“Why don’t we get out of here?” he asked.
“Another bar?” We hadn’t even eaten yet.
He shook his head. “No. Something bigger than that.”
“What do you have in mind? Let me guess. New Orleans’s hottest dance club. Or a dueling piano bar, perhaps,” I teased.
The way his finger traced my jaw, made me shiver. “Far from it.” The growl in his voice, was nothing less than deadly serious. “I’m not talking our date.”
“I’m listening.”
“It’s summer. New Orleans is too damn hot. Let’s get out of the city. Make our own plans.”
“But we don’t know each other.” I studied his face. His gorgeous square jaw. His dark eyes.
“Worried we aren’t compatible, Kennedy?” It sounded like a dare the way he said it.
I shook my head. The truth was I was terrified it was the complete opposite. I was scared he was the person that fit into my life in a way no one had come close.
“We can’t take off,” I stated.
His fingers wound tightly through mine. “We can. Pack a few bags. We hop on a plane and leave New Orleans behind. It’s simple. We go together. Drink our way across Europe. Maybe spend time in the islands. We can go wherever you want first.”
“Until Kimble finds me and drags me back by my hair.” I dropped Knight’s hand. “You know there’s no way I can do anything like that. The consequences are too dangerous. Someone could get killed. My father won’t stand for it.”
He huffed. “Think about it. Think about what we could do this summer.”
“I can’t.” I shook my head.
I wouldn’t allow myself glimmers of light like that. It would only make the devastation worse when I had to succumb to the life my father chose for me. Some gangly man with bad breath. I’d started having panic attacks in the middle of the night, worried about who it was going to be. The move to a new city meant my father was father would be shopping around soon.
“It could be that freedom we talked about.” He dangled it in front of me.
“This doesn’t freak you out? The idea that we barely know each other and we’re just going to hop on a plane to wherever.”
“Well, you get to decide the wherever.”
I scowled. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I. It doesn’t have to mean anything other than freedom, Kennedy.”
“Everything okay?” Kimble appeared next to us. Shit. He scared me.
“Yes.” I looked up at him.
“We’re having dinner.” Knight’s jaw clenched.
“But it is getting late. I think I’m ready to go home. Our meeting is over. Thank you for the evening.”
I caught Knight’s expression. I would never be free. I would never be able to escape. The sooner he realized that, the sooner he could move on. He needed to stop having hope.
Hope would only get us killed.
8
Knight
A week passed. Kennedy didn’t answer her phone. Neither calls nor texts. She didn’t respond to the flowers I sent to her house, or the bottle of champagne. I double checked with the florist to make sure the address was correct.
I felt like a caged lion shut up in my apartment. I paced. I drank. On occasion I sat in on meetings with my father. I listened to Seraphina complain about Brandon.
But nothing changed the fact that all I wanted was to see Kennedy. There had to be a way out. I searched the drawers in my apartment for a pack of cigarettes I’d hidden, but there were none. Fuck. I had given them up easily, but I couldn’t give up her.
I grabbed the keys to my car and hopped behind the wheel. I drove until I was past the garden district. I never paid attention to these houses before, but as I grew closer to Lucien Martin’s compound, I began to notice the old world stamp on the buildings. Classic architecture. Grand porticos and columns. Massive gardens and brick walls.
After a few minutes I was buzzed in. The iron gate retracted, and I drove through the entryway, circling the front of the house. I knocked on the front door until a housekeeper opened the door.
“Yes?” She eyed me.
“I’m here to see Kennedy,” I explained. “Is she home?”
“Miss Martin is out back in the courtyard. You can wait—” I didn’t let the woman finish the sentence before I brushed past her and marched in the direction of the back of the house.
I slid open a glass door and spotted Kennedy lounging by the pool.
“And I thought you were busy.” I stood next to her.
She slid her sunglasses down her nose. “How did you get in here?”
“Front door.”
“No, I mean past Kimble and Joseph.”
I sat on the lounge chair next to her. “I didn’t see them. Why haven’t you answered your phone?” I asked.
The beads of perspiration rolled between her breasts. Damn. She looked incredible in her bikini. She pushed forward in her seat.
“Because you want me to get on a plane to Bali. Or where was the last place? I think you said you had tickets for Amsterdam.”
“You are listening to my messages. The tickets are just piling up.”
“Of course I listened, but I can’t go anywhere with you. Stop buying first class tickets. That costs a fortune.”
“I have a fortune,” I retorted.
“I told you. This isn’t going to work.” There was defeat in her voice.
“You’ve given up before you even tried.”
Her legs swung in my direction. My palms skimmed over her knees, planting her legs between mine. She tilted forward. I could smell the coconut on her skin. Smell the sun on her body.
She sighed. “If my father sees you…”
“Is he home?” I asked.
She nodded. “He’s in his study working. I don’t know who is with him today.”
I brought my hands to either side of her face. “I keep thinking about your lips.”
She smiled. “You do?”
I nodded, drawing her mouth close to mine. I pressed against the warmth of her mouth, soaked in sunlight. I parted her lips as my tongue twined along hers. Kennedy’s hands wrapped around my neck and I wanted to untie the string on her bikini. I wanted to worship her curvy body. Admire her breasts. Tease her pussy with kisses. I explored her body, gliding over it easily. The oil was a guide. My fingers curled to the inside of her thigh.
“Shh,” I warned her.
Her eyes whipped open, but I tugged the bikini bottom out of my way and grazed her roughly with my thumb.
She bit her bottom lip. Her eyes locked on mine as I added another finger between her legs. I swirled her clit and eased inside her. She gasped when my fingers curled inside her.
“All summer,” I growled. “Like this.” I kissed her. “Free to do this.” I nipped at her throat. My fingers taking on more territory. Her hips began to rock. I pushed deeper. The straps on her suit strained around my hand.
“I-I can’t. Not here,” she pleaded. Her breath was ragged. Her eyes glazed over. “We�
��re. In. The. Courtyard.” She panted hard.
I spotted a changing room, much like a beach tent in a 1920s movie across the pool.
“Come with me,” I directed. As soon as I pulled my hand away, she whimpered. But within seconds I had draped the heavy canvas curtain closed and tied the rope that held it together. I pinned Kennedy to the wall with a kiss that made my cock ache.
She clung to me as my hand reached inside her bikini. She moaned when my fingers returned to that sweet spot. Her tits jutted toward me as she arched against the wall. I plunged into her pussy. My fingers were at work to make her come hard in my hand.
“Be quiet.” I bit her bottom earlobe. She squeezed my fingers. Fuck. Her pussy was strong. Tight. I didn’t expect to be matched by her bursts of rhythm.
Her hair fell out of her bun and stuck to her shoulders. She began to ride up and down. I watched as she tried to take control of the sensations. The tiny whimpers she made were driving me fucking insane.
“Shh,” I tried to calm her and make her ignite at the same time.
“Shit, Knight,” she hissed when I flicked her clit like I owned it. I worried we’d bring the cabana down with us.
I covered her mouth with mine at the first sign she was about to come. I saw the shudder hit her. I felt the quiver wrap around my fingers. I licked her lips. Kissed her. Held her on her feet while she rode out the climax. Her eyes opened with a long sweet sigh. I brought my fingertips to my tongue.
“Fuck. I want to rip this suit off of you and kiss you. Suck you. Taste you, Kennedy.”
“No,” she whimpered. “Not here.”
“I know. I know.” I had barged into her father’s house. I was dangerously close to getting a bullet in the back of my skull.
I pried her arms from me. “I made my point.” I stood, trying to flatten out the rather solid erection in the front of my pants our situation had caused before I walked out of the changing room.
“You came here to make a point?” She still breathed heavily.
“I think I made it.”
“And what is that exactly?” She stood facing me with her hands on her hips. Hips that were tanned and slick with oil.
“That the only reason you’re avoiding me has nothing to do with me and everything to do with what you’re afraid of. We could do this. We could leave,” I urged.
Her mouth opened in surprise. “How dare you.”
I grinned, wiping the last bits of her lip balm from my mouth. It was watermelon flavored. “Face it. You’re scared, Kennedy. What else would keep you here instead of out there with me?”
“It’s not that simple.” She yanked a coverup from the hook behind my head and wrapped it around her. She ducked under my arm and out into the sun.
“You aren’t going to answer?” I followed.
I waited for a response, when I heard the sharp footsteps behind. I turned to see a man not much taller than Kennedy with Kimble. Lucien Martin.
“Kennedy, what’s going on here?”
“Dad, this is Knight Corban. He stopped by to say hello. That’s all.” I saw how quickly she walked past me to join her father as if there were an imaginary line and she had to choose the appropriate side.
I hurried around the pool to extend my hand. “Mr. Corban, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Welcome to New Orleans.”
The older man returned the handshake. “Thank you. Why don’t you join me in my study?” He glared at his daughter.
“Actually, sir, I came to see Kennedy. Thought she might like a drive out to the beach. It’s a good day for it. I’m sure you’re an outdoorsy man.”
He stared at my button-up shirt. “You’re going to the beach like that?”
“I have a bag in the car,” I lied.
“I think we should have that drink,” he answered. “Kennedy, get dressed,” he snapped. “Knight and I are going to catch up.”
There was fire in her eyes, but I didn’t know which one of us fueled it. Me, or her father. I wanted to pull her to me. To tell her I could still fix this. There was a way to sort through the family politics and find a way to grant her freedom. But those weren’t words I could say in front of her warden.
I left her in the courtyard and followed her father inside the house.
He poured two glasses of bourbon and handed one to me. His study looked like my father’s. Old. Dark. Classic décor.
“Thank you.” I nodded.
He sat behind his desk. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make our meeting last week. Kennedy tells me you’re interested in my boutique hotel acquisition. The Vieux Carre.”
I wondered if she had told him everything we discussed. “Yes. That’s true. The hotel is an important part of our development. I’m sure you understand.”
I studied the man, trying to discern if any of Kennedy’s features were in his face. Thank God I didn’t detect a single one. She must look like her mother.
“I understand that Raphael isn’t happy I want it. That’s what I understand.” He rocked slightly in the leather chair.
“New Orleans has options for you, sir. You aren’t limited, but that particular piece of property. Well… you should know that if my father wants it, he’s going to get it. There are lots of ways he can make that happen. You should back away before there’s any bad blood between you two.”
“Is that a threat?” His voice remained even.
“No, not at all. But since you’re new, you might not realize how things work. In Philadelphia it’s possible you were the Raphael Corban of the city. If you wanted something, you could have it. That’s not true here.” I finished the bourbon and placed the empty glass on the corner of his desk. “The quicker you learn how my father runs the city, the quicker you’ll be able to have a successful business here. Otherwise, you won’t last. The original families respect him. They respect his wishes.” I couldn’t see where any of my words had affected him.
“But you didn’t come here for me. You came because of Kennedy. You like my daughter?”
“Yes. I do. We’ve had a good time together.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-eight.”
“A little older than her. Are you sure you’re not too old for her?”
“No. Definitely not too old, sir.”
“Do you have any kids?” he pried.
I shook my head. “No, why?”
“I want that hotel.” His eyes bore into mine.
“I’m trying to tell you as nicely as I can, that’s not going to be possible.” There were a lot of things that would go wrong very quickly for Lucien if he tried to hold on to a property my father wanted.
“You can have her.”
“Excuse me?”
He pinched his lips together. “You like her. You can have Kennedy for the hotel. And I think we could make a few other arrangements to benefit both families.”
I instantly broke out in a cold sweat. What the fuck? I didn’t want to barter a marriage. I didn’t come here to negotiate a trade. Hell, I’d charm him into letting me take her on a date, not spending a life together. I didn’t wait for him to ask. I grabbed the decanter and poured myself a second drink. I refilled Lucien’s in the process.
“What do you think? Tell your father I’d like to set it up. We can have a family dinner. I think that would be nice. I’ll host. Let’s say next week.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper, but I couldn’t focus.
I paced in the office, letting the bourbon burn my throat and make every thought I had fuzzier than the last. There had to be a way to work this. Barter freedom for Kennedy. Let her choose me, not be forced on me. This fucking hotel. The damn Vieux Carre.
“Here.” He shoved the letter toward me. “Take it.”
I’d never had nerves like this. The paper shook in my hand.
“I think you would be a good match for her. You’ll take care of her. There’s plenty of money. I saw how she looked at you. It’s a good match. No need for Raphael and I to be ri
vals when we could be family.”
I nodded absently without thinking about what I was answering. “I can’t give this to my father.”
“You will.” He shoved his hands in my pockets.
“Why do you think that?” I folded the paper and placed it in the front of my jacket. My second bourbon was empty.
“If you don’t, I’ll tell Kennedy that you rejected her.”
Mother fucker.
“You can’t.” I shook my head. I wanted a date. I wanted a night. Hell, I’d go as far as to say I wanted an entire summer full of nights with her. But what he was trying to do was more manipulative than my own father.
“I will. I’ll tell her you tore up the offer to marry her.” He leaned across the desk. “Want to test me?”
“She’s just a girl,” I whispered. It was true. A college graduate. Gorgeous. Smart. Sexy as sin. She had a decade to decide what to do with her life. It didn’t have to happen here in her father’s study.
“If you think she’s just a girl, why do you call? Why send flowers? Take her to dinner? Show up like this?”
I rubbed the back of my head. “I didn’t say she’s ordinary. I enjoy her company. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to look at rings. I think you’re forgetting there are family rules at play. Rules you are eager to break. I have a say.” I slammed my fist on the table. It was the bourbon surfacing. “I decide.”
“You can decide. It can be Kennedy. Or not.” He shrugged. “I’ll find someone else who will take her. Make no mistake about that.”
I felt a lump hard and painful lodge in my throat. The idea of Lucien contracting her to another family made me want to put my fist through the wall.
I glowered at him. “You’re a bastard Lucien.”
“What happened to ‘sir’? You’re talking to your future father-in-law.”
I only saw red after that. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. I couldn’t stand his voice. I charged out of the office and slammed into a maid in the hallway. Her dustpan clattered on the floor. I threw open the door.
I didn’t expect to see Kennedy leaning against the sports car.