To the child who had fallen behind him, he turned and said, “Go find your mother!” Then he turned to Siobhan, and in a softer tone, said, “You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“It was an accident, my lord,” she said, looking up at him from her place on the floor. “I’ll do my best to take care of it.”
“I didn’t mean then. I mean now.” He raked a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Stop what you’re doing.”
Siobhan wondered if his long hair would feel like silk in her hands and dropped her eyes quickly, rubbing his trousers. “I’m trying to get you off.” Gah! “I mean get it off! The water, that is.”
“I don’t think it’s working. You must stop.” The bulge in his pants was growing more obvious by the second.
“But it is, my lord. I’m sucking it off. I mean, the napkin is sucking the water from the fabric.”
“You’re making a spectacle of us,” he hissed.
Only then did she realizing that anyone nearby would see the man standing among shards of glass looking as though he’d wet himself. “Oh! You’re right.” She turned and picked up her tray, and said, “Come with me around the corner, out of sight.”
Oh, yes! His head was buzzing and he found it hard to think clearly. Stop that, Angus. He stood there and shook his head. The whisky and the arousal must have left little room for rational thought because all he wanted to do was follow the woman to a private place. Although he was sure she hadn’t meant it in that sense.
“Will you come, my lord,” Siobhan said, looking at him over her shoulder as she walked toward the doorway several feet away.
Feeling as though he’d nearly gotten a handjob from the beautiful server, he was too embarrassed to follow her. “You go on and do your job. I’ll finish this off by myself. I’ll let it finish drying by itself, rather.”
He watched her bow and exit through the doorway. Without looking back at his companions at the dinner table, he said, “Excuse me,” and walked to a distant table where no one was seated. Having a moment to himself, he tried to tame his libido and lose his erection, but his body and his mind were focused on the woman who had caused it.
Minutes later, Siobhan passed by as he stood up and glanced at his crotch, smiling with relief as she went by. All is well with his trousers.
Angus saw her pass by and marveled at how dainty she was—a pocket-size Venus—with a waist he could probably clasp his hands around. She seemed to move in time to the music without knowing she was doing it.
My God! What’s wrong with me? She was a server and not fair game; he was not the sort of low-life who hit on serving staff. But his wayward gaze remained stubbornly nailed to her surprisingly voluptuous proportions for such a slim, petite woman, noticing the tight fit of her shirt over her round breasts and the peach-like curve and sensual jut of her bottom below her skirt.
“There you are,” said Amelia, his hostess, blocking his view of the server. “I wondered where you’d gotten off to. Come. You must meet some dear friends of mine,” she said, reaching out for his hand.
Accompanied by his hostess, Angus allowed himself to be introduced to some of the other guests, acknowledging that his dark mood had lightened at that fresh sight of the little waitress’s sunny smile. It was as enchanting as her almond-shaped cat-like green eyes that sparkled above an unrepentantly upturned nose, dimples, and a Cupid’s bow, ripe-rosy mouth. Where did she go?
The instant he registered that he was looking for her, he questioned what he was doing and directed his attention back to the drink in his hand and the non-stop talking of his hostess.
But, strangely, all he could still see were those bright feline eyes and that luscious full pink mouth that contrived to combine her curious mix of girlish innocence and sex appeal with astonishing efficiency. Her quick graceful movements crackled with the energy of a lively personality.
Dom Mircea Roma, the leader of the Gipsy People’s United party, approached him and readily explained that he was alone because his third wife was close to giving birth to their fifth child.
“Five children in six years, Your Royal Highness,” Mircea boasted. He puffed out his barrel chest as his black eyes glinted with pride. “And it will be my eleventh child.”
Angus congratulated him—wondering if it was fair of him to suspect that the Romani macho man was boasting about his virility—and changed the subject as quickly as he could. When children entered the conversation, he had not much to say, and even less interest. He had made peace with the fact he would never be a father by natural methods.
Mircea’s lips twitched in amusement. “Ah, but the subject of children bores you, Your Royal Highness. What a pity. Children do bring such vibrance to life. I wager you will change your tune once you have a child of your own.” Mircea smiled patronizingly at Angus, who suppressed a shudder.
“Perhaps,” Angus said stiffly.
“Ah, I know that face,” Mircea said, wagging an admonishing finger. “Too busy for love, yes?”
Angus shifted uncomfortably. “With the impending election…”
“Election?” Mircea interrupted, his eyes flashing with sudden disconcerting interest.
“For Prime Minister,” Angus clarified. “There is much to do.”
Mircea stroked his greying beard as his eyes studied Angus with an intensity bordering on invasive.
Angus felt a cold, polite anger settle over him. There was only so much of Mircea that he could take. Excusing himself, he made his way through the party, his eyes roaming the room again for the feisty waitress; but she was nowhere to be seen.
His attention rested on the bridal couple, who were whispering behind their hands. Probably already engaged in their first marital dispute.
The bride had a shrewish look, and the groom, the pitiful air of a discomfited man wishing he were anywhere but where he was.
Angus knew that feeling. He didn’t like weddings either. The artificial gaiety left him cold and the divorce statistics made nonsense of all the romantic frills and the heartfelt promises.
Although he knew he must remarry, he wanted to enjoy his freedom a bit longer.
“What the heck happened?” Allen demanded, hustling her away to the kitchen.
“Yes, what happened?” the bride demanded angrily, planting herself in Siobhan’s path, blocking her from refilling her tray.
“It was an accident. There was a child—”
“I’ve already informed your manager that if he wants to continue catering for us, I won’t stand for you working in my home again.” The tall blonde woman stared down at her with angry superiority. “You embarrassed my guest, ruined his pants, and you’ve got the wrong attitude,” she censured curtly. “You had no business smiling and flirting with my most important guest.”
That unjust rebuke made Siobhan’s eyes prickle with angry tears and she had to bite back a sharp retaliation. She had done nothing wrong. “Flirting? Really? He is not even my type.”
“I think you’ve caused enough trouble, and spoiled my wedding! I won’t tolerate your verbal abuse on top of it.” Abigail waved away Siobhan with an angry gesture. “Move away from my sight!”
Siobhan looked at Allen, who whispered, “Go home.”
Siobhan lifted her chin at a defiant angle but made her way to the kitchen, while Allen tried to placate the angry, arrogant bride.
Chapter 4
From his place on the veranda, Angus drew in a slow deep breath of restraint. He had witnessed the whole scene and had almost intervened on her behalf when she scorned him.
He thought her boss should have protected her from such harassment. So her name is Siobhan. Is she Irish? And if she is, why the hell should it matter to me? Exasperated, he didn’t like the feeling that he was off balance.
The whole time she was within view, Angus watched her small figure like a hawk.
She had said he wasn't her type but he was convinced that that had been pure bravado.
Definitely, she was not the sort of woman
he had gone for in the past. Tall, elegant blondes like Innes had always been Angus’s style.
But Siobhan got to him on a much more basic level. Well, the sensual sway of her hips would have attracted any red-blooded male’s attention.
The first person she saw when she exited the house was the tall lord, leaning up against a wall at an elegant angle and talking into his mobile phone. Probably ordering an Über—no, make that a limousine.
She hurried to the underground station, thinking of what a miserable evening she’d had when she heard footfalls behind her.
“Excuse me, miss?” He noticed she barely reached his shoulder. There was something intensely feminine about her slight build and diminutive stature.
“Look, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea—”
“The wrong idea?” He had a sudden explosively sexual image of lifting her up against him and taking her, right there and then. With great difficulty did he manage to shut it out. Even so, his body reacted with instant enthusiasm. You’ve given me a very right idea.
“I was not flirting with you…or…in any way expressing a personal interest in you,” she spelled out with scrupulous care.
Angus studied her with sudden intense amusement because what was in his mind was the exact opposite—he was thinking that he could offer her a ride so they could get acquainted.
“How long have you worked as a waitress?” Angus asked, gracefully negotiating a passage through the awkward silence that had fallen.
“I started out as a part-timer after I graduated from school. I’m saving to start my own business,” Siobhan told him.
“Allow me to help you with your savings by giving you a ride instead of letting you take a bus on such a beautiful night.”
“You’re very kind, but it takes two tube changes and the DLR for me to get home. It’s much too far for you to…drive,” she finished lamely. Because a shiny and long black limousine stopped right beside them and a man in a black suit and dark glasses hurried out to open the door for him.
“Nonsense. It will be my pleasure.” He was stunned by the amount of restraint it took to keep his hands off her and was furious that he couldn’t keep his libido under better control.
Angus had rules for himself where women were concerned. So far, he’d always followed them.
But this was different. She was different, in ways he couldn’t yet define. He usually didn’t find innocence so alluring, but in her case it was sweetened by bold, unabashed curiosity. Right this moment, he was entertaining a quite vivid fantasy of unwinding that knot in her hair, stripping those drab clothes from her body, peeling away any layers of modesty beneath…and leaving those glasses on. So she could see him when he had her. “Besides, it’s the least I can do after it appears I got you into some sort of trouble with your employer.”
“I think I’ll be fine. Allen, my boss, will understand. He’s not like...some people. It was no one’s fault what happened, my lord.”
“Very well. But just the same, I insist on the favor of a ride, and you know it’s impolite to refuse a lord.” He noticed a glint of steel that shined in her eyes for but a second, then it was gone, and she smiled in gratitude.
“Yes, my lord. As you wish.”
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Benedict Lockeheart’s love story.
Also by Cristiane Serruya
I write suspenseful and heartwarming contemporary romances steeped in luxury, loss, lust, and love. Have you read them all?
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Entwined Fates, TRUST #1, the first book of the TRUST Universe, is FREE at your favorite online store. To get Second Chances, TRUST #2, also for FREE, click here!
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THE COMPLETE TRUST SERIES
Two billionaires who never fail to get what they want. They both want the same woman. Only one would get her.
Meet Ethan, Sophia, and Alistair in this eight-part suspenseful romance series!
~ TRUST Series standalone romances ~
SHADED LOVE
Love Painted in Red prequel
Eva May, daughter of a recently widowed, strict man, is in dire straights. Not only she is in love with a man her father doesn’t approve, but she is also pregnant.
LOVE PAINTED IN RED
2016 KindleScout winner
They will discover falling in love is life’s greatest risk! A sizzling suspenseful contemporary romance made of loss, lust, and love which will keep you guessing until the end!
DAMAGED LOVE
a TRUST Series standalone novella
One lie tore two lovers apart, breaking both of their hearts. And even the truth may not be enough to mend their damaged love!
~ EVER MORE Series standalone romances ~
SO MUCH MORE
He needs a woman to play the perfect wife—sex included, no emotions attached. She needs to pay off a debt before she ends up with broken legs—or worse.
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FOREVERMORE
A father desperate to save his little girl. A doctor fighting for a cure. And two broken hearts that can only be healed together. A tragedy brought them together. A miracle might rip them apart.
~ LAST ROYALS Series standalone romances ~
ROYAL LOVE
A king without a bride. A young woman struggling on her own. And a chance encounter that could provide an heir to the throne…
~ The Diaries Series ~
FROM THE BARONESS’S DIARY I
The Erotic Escapades of Baron Beardley’s Wife
Young, beautiful, and voluptuous, the Baroness finds that in Beardley Manor innocent flirtations can become erotic sex escapades. And soon Lady Chloe’s diary pages are filled with her adventures—and misadventures!
* * *
FROM THE BARONESS’S DIARY II
The Adventures—and Misadventures—of Lady Chloé
Lady Chloé has yet to resolve the mystery of her husband's frequent business trips and why he's desperate to create an heir. And, of course, she wants more than just a tryst with her gardener lover. She wants love!
~ Other books ~
THE MODERN MAN
The modern state of man, his thoughts, feelings, and life are dissected by the author in a direct, sensible, and poetic style.
All the royalties from THE MODERN MAN and its translations are donated towards Doctors without Borders.
~ Soon to come ~
~ Stormy Love (provisory title), a suspenseful steamy TRUST Series standalone romance, featuring the Brazilian hunk, Felipe Espírito Santo;
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~ Evermore, Ever More #3
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~ Royal Affair, Last Royals #2
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~ From The Baron’s Diary, The Diaries #3;
* * *
~ The Kingdom of Perfection, my first kid’s story written under the pen name Cristiane Allevato;
About Cristiane Serruya
USA TODAY and AMAZON bestselling author, Cristiane Serruya—or just Cris—lives in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, with her husband, two teenage daughters, and Loki, her Shetland sheepdog.
She’s graduated at Law School, with a Master’s in Business Law, and also has a BA in Fine Arts, all from PUC-RJ. She’s studied in England, Switzerland, Italy, and France, and, of course, Brazil.
In 2011, after twenty-two years of practicing law, Cris decided to give writing a go. And—amazingly!—it was just the piece that was missing from the puzzle of her life. Now that she’s hooked, she can’t free herself—and doesn’t want to be freed.
If not typing away stories, Cris is reading her favorite authors and pampering her family. Meeting interesting people—in person or on line—gives her the inspiration for her characters. Also, there’s a little bit of her in them as well—including the bad ones, of course.
Visit www.CrisSerruya.com, discover her ot
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