by Vella, Wendy
But Annabelle intrigued him. More than intrigued him, she got to him, and Ethan knew some of that was because she’d kept him at a distance. In that time he’d gotten to know her, and in doing so his need for her had grown into so much more than just taking her body.
“You must be happy to have your boy back under your roof again, E.G.?”
Ethan heard one of the guests say those words and knew they had been directed at his father. ‘E.G.’ was how most of his friends addressed him.
“Just a fleeting visit, Bob. Ethan’s not one to stay anywhere for too long. He lives a lifestyle many of us would jump at if we didn’t have responsibilities. My boy’s not big on commitment. Isn’t that right, son?”
His father had made the words sound like he was joking, but Ethan knew differently. He’d never get over Ethan’s refusal to follow in his footsteps, no matter that the reason for that had been E.G. himself.
“I think you’ve trained Brad well enough to finally take over from you, Father, when and if he can ever rip the reins from your hands.” Ethan’s words were delivered in the same tone his father’s had been. To anyone listening, it sounded as if they were just teasing each other, but he and his father knew differently, as did the rest of their family.
Ethan had only challenged E.G. twice in his life. The first time he’d been ten and the second had been the day he walked out of this house to join the Army, but never had he done so in public.
Don’t let him do this to you, Ethan. You’re a better man than he is. Annabelle’s words came back to him, and she was right, he was a better man.
He looked across the table and met her gaze. Her eyes told him she was right there, at his side. All he had to do was reach across the table and her hand would be in his if he chose to. It was enough—he didn’t need the physical touch, he felt her presence and that made him strong.
“Yes, Brad is not my eldest son, but he understands what’s required from him, and I have great hopes that he will follow admirably in my footsteps,” E.G. said, still smiling, although this one didn’t show his teeth. “We have a name and responsibilities to uphold, Ethan, and I know you like to play with your helicopters, but it’s still my hope that one day you’ll come home and work alongside your brother to continue my legacy.”
“Your son is a decorated veteran of the Iraq war, Mr. Gelderman. I hardly think that’s ‘playing with helicopters’.”
“Annabelle,” Ethan said quietly after she had finished. “It’s okay.” He loathed anyone talking about what he’d done in Iraq, because he had been no different from any other soldier, no matter their rank or duty. They were all there doing what they had been trained to do.
She flashed him a brilliant smile, then continued talking. “He flew into places you could only ever have nightmares about, Mr. Gelderman, places he could have been killed in.”
“Annabelle, enough now.” Ethan tried again, thought he knew there was little hope of success. Her eyes were flashing and she was primed and ready to take on his father.
“He saved one of our friends, a doctor, and if it wasn’t for him I doubt Jake would still be with us. So if that, in your opinion, Mr. Gelderman, is playing with helicopters, then I say thank God he did.”
It was a strange feeling having someone go to bat for him in front of his family. Hope and Taylor had learned early on not to, simply because their father wasn’t interested in anything they had to say, because in this house his word was law and not to be disputed.
“Annabelle, leave it now,” he said, trying to draw her eyes back to him, but she didn’t budge. Her gaze remained focused on his father. He shouldn’t feel warm all over, shouldn’t have to fight the smile that kept wanting to appear, because she was defending him in front of his family.
“I thought you said Ethan was off tripping around the world, E.G? Don’t believe you ever mentioned he was serving his country.”
Bob Hancock, an oilman like Ethan’s father, was addressing him. He and E.G. had been friends for many years. The man was seated three down from Annabelle, but he’d heard the conversation.
“Well, now, I’m sure I did, Bob.”
His father wasn’t looking quite so happy now. His smile had slipped, and his eyes were narrowed.
“No.” That was from another of his father’s friends. “Don’t believe you did, E.G.”
Ethan could no longer be hurt by his father, and it shouldn’t annoy the hell out of him that he hadn’t mentioned that Ethan was serving his country, but it did. Most parents would be proud, but not E.G.
“Ah, well, let’s see now, I’m sure I remember mentioning it when he first enlisted.”
Ethan had never seen his father look uncomfortable, but he was definitely that right now, especially when all the conversations around the table had stopped and all eyes were focused on him.
“This man, like many others, is a goddamn hero,” Annabelle said, her voice rising with each word. “I would think, as a parent, that you would be proud of that. If he was my son, I know I would be.”
Silence fell after she finished speaking. Annabelle was furious, her eyes narrowed and glaring at his father, breath rapid, and Ethan wanted to lift her across the silverware and kiss her senseless and then shake her hard to shut her up. He didn’t like being the center of attention, especially not here in his father’s domain.
“Well, damn me, boy, let me be the first shake your hand. Anyone who serves this country deserves that and more.” Bob Hancock rose from his seat and reached across the table, and Ethan could do nothing but stand and accept the hand he offered.
“I’m proud of you, nephew, and I hope you’ve always known that.”
“Thanks, Uncle Mitch.” Ethan took his uncle’s hand next.
“Me too, Ethan.” Taylor was next.
“Ethan.” The next hand belonged to his future brother-in-law.
They kept coming. Some got out of their seats to come to his side, women kissed his cheek, and by the end he was seriously uncomfortable with all the acknowledgments. His father had remained silent, his expression outwardly calm, as had his mother and Brad, and he’d expected nothing more from them, but Ethan had a feeling his father would have something to say about this, something loud and long, because no one embarrassed E.G., and especially not in front of the people he’d worked so hard to impress.
Annabelle was sipping her wine, and when he looked at her, she raised her glass and then turned to talk once more to Uncle Mitch, leaving Ethan to work through what the hell had just happened.
The rest of the meal passed without any further outpourings of emotion, Ethan was pleased to say. He watched Annabelle lift another mouthful of her chocolate and cream mousse to her lips, and lick it off the spoon while she talked to Uncle Mitch. Totally unaware of what she was doing, she placed her lips over the tip of the spoon and he nearly groaned as desire shot to his groin. He had to look away, because he’d never be able to leave the table without embarrassing himself otherwise.
Hope lured Annabelle away at the end of the meal, and he lost sight of her while he talked with a few of the guests, most of whom wanted to talk about his Army days. Finally, when everyone had left, he was free.
“Where’s Annabelle?” he said when he found Hope talking to her fiancé.
“She said she wanted to get something from her room and would be back soon.”
“I’ll go find her. She might be lost.” Lifting a hand in a general farewell, he made his way out of the room and headed back to theirs. There was no sign of her there, so he backtracked, and headed up the stairs to see if she’d gone somewhere else. Her raised voice reached him first.
“You’re selling your son short if you believe I’m with Ethan simply because he has money, Mr. Gelderman.”
They were in his father’s study. Ethan felt his temper climb at her words. What the hell was she doing in there, when he’d told her to stay away from E.G.?
“You don’t fool me, Ms. Smith. Like most women of your kind, you’re only after
one thing, and it’s not his brains. So to stop you from wasting any more of your time with my son, I’m telling you that he’s not getting a cent from me when I die.”
“Okay, so I see where you’re going wrong, sir. You’re confusing me with one of Brad’s girlfriends. You see, I’m not one of those types of women, but one who works extremely hard at her career, a woman with enough brain cells to function without the support of a man. God’s truth, Mr. Gelderman, this may come as a bit of a shock for you, but there are plenty of us in the world, and plenty right here in the old U.S. of A.”
God, she was a mouthy woman. Ethan shook his head as he entered the room.
“You’re just a slut, like all of them.”
It was unfortunate for Brad that Ethan heard those words, despite being slurred, and even more unfortunate that he was pretty fucking angry about it.
“Ethan, don’t!” She tried to stop him, but he just stepped around Annabelle and planted his fist in his brother’s face, knocking him to the ground.
“You’re lucky I know you’re drunk, Brad,” Ethan said as he stood over him. “Because if you weren’t, I’d tear you apart for talking about my woman that way.”
“He hit me!” Brad clutched his jaw as he staggered to his feet, shocked.
Ignoring him, Ethan faced his father across his desk.
“You created him.” Ethan pointed to his brother. “Turned him into what he’s become, a drunken, useless man who respects no one, least of all himself. He can’t think for himself because you won’t let him. The idiot’s just your puppet.”
“I’ll have you charged with assault,” his father said from behind the safety of his desk. “And your behavior just shows me the man you’ve become, Ethan. It is most disappointing to see.” E.G.’s face was tight with the anger he was battling to keep hidden.
“It really gets to you that you couldn’t mold me, doesn’t it, Father? That I wouldn’t be brought into line by your brand of manipulation, that you couldn’t break me like one of your horses.” Ethan looked his father in the eye as he spoke.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Those words were from Brad, who was charging at Ethan.
“Brad you’re an idiot,” Annabelle said. She stuck out her foot to trip him, and he landed face-first on the carpet. “Now stay down before you get hurt any more.”
“You should have been the one to stand in my shoes, but you chose not to. Therefore I have nothing further to say to you,” his father said slowly.
Ethan looked at the man who had sired him and felt no pain, only sadness. “Tomorrow is Hope’s wedding, and we will both behave for her, Father. Then I will leave and in all honesty I will probably never come back.”
“Just so we’re clear, Ethan, you will receive no part of this empire when I die.”
“Well, hell,” Ethan said in his best Texas drawl, “I’m damn pleased I don’t need it, then.”
He grabbed Annabelle, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, and took her with him out of the room with a little more force than was strictly necessary. They walked in silence while Ethan sorted out the emotions rampaging through him. Anger, relief, and exhilaration at finally confronting his father, and fury that Annabelle had put herself in front of his father and Brad, and it was the latter that was building inside him.
When they reached their rooms, he opened the door and pushed her inside ahead of him, then slammed it shut behind him.
He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it at a chair, but it fell short.
“What the hell were you doing in my father’s office, when I told you to stay away from him and Brad?” He tried to keep his words calm, but they still came out as loud as a thunderclap.
“A maid said your dad wanted to see me, so I went.” She kicked off her shoes, then picked them up and fired them through the open doorway to her room. Her aim was off, so they both hit the wall with a thud. “So you can drop the attitude, big boy, because I’ve just about had my fill of testosterone-loaded males for one day. Your brother groped me and then called me a slut, your father questioned my brain capacity—”
“Brad groped you?”
She gave him a smart-assed smile that hiked his anger another notch, and braced her weight on one hip. “Funny how that bothers you most, when it was your father’s comments that upset me more.”
Ethan closed his eyes briefly and tried to calm down. He felt irrational, his head all over the place. When he opened his eyes she was walking away from him.
“Come back here!” She looked at him over her shoulder, but didn’t stop. “Now!” he roared.
“No. I don’t go in for all that macho stuff. I am man, hear me roar.”
She was taunting him deliberately and Ethan suddenly lost it. He felt a loud buzzing in his ears, and in seconds he had her pinned face-first to the wall.
“You do it deliberately,” he rasped in her ear.
“Do what?”
“Provoke me.” He pushed her dress up her body and pulled it over her head, baring the long, slender line of her back.
“You need provoking, Gelderman.” She pushed her fine ass back into his groin, and followed it up with one hand, which she ran down the front of his trousers, cupping his hard length through the fabric. “We can’t have everyone agreeing with you all the time, now, can we?”
“Jesus,” he hissed, his breath caressing her back and making her shiver. He kissed the line of her vertebrae, stopping just above the lace edge of her panties. “You ever back off, woman?”
“I learned young not to, or people just stomp all over you in really big boots.”
He kissed back up her spine and then licked her shoulder blade while his fingers traced that slender band of lace around her hips. Pushing one under, he touched the swell of her buttocks.
“I want it now, Ethan.”
“Too bad. You riled me up, so you get to pay the price.” Ethan nuzzled her neck, then bit gently into her shoulder, making her moan.
“Put your hands above your head, Annabelle. Palms flat on the wall, and keep them there.” She didn’t, so he did it for her. “Don’t move.”
He kissed her everywhere, starting with her shoulders, the sides of her breasts and down her ribs, then he pulled the lace down and spread her legs.
“Enoughhhhh.” The breath left her body as she kissed her buttocks. “Ethan.” The word was a warning.
“Shut up and take your punishment.”
He turned her and she dug her fingers into his shoulders as he started kissing her breasts. She was naked except for those killer heels, her lips swollen from his kiss, her breasts full and ripe. It was a picture that could grace any centerfold.
“I watched you eat your dessert, watched as you licked your spoon then place those lush lips over the tip and suck off the chocolate. It was the most erotic thing I’ve seen in years, Annabelle.”
She tugged his hair until their lips met, and then she pushed him back and started taking off his clothes. Her fingers brushed his skin, teasing his flesh until it was like a brand, and then she was on her knees before him, taking him into her mouth. His mind went blank as she licked and sucked his hard length. His body grew taut and Ethan knew he’d never felt anything as good as Annabelle’s mouth before. When she stood, he lifted her into his arms and sat her on his dressing table, then he stepped between her thighs and pushed himself deep inside her welcoming heat.
She felt like heaven, tight and wet, and Ethan knew he was just seconds away from his release, so he used his hands on her body, stroking her breasts, circling the bud between her thighs until he could feel tension spike inside her. Gripping her hips, he drove into her hard and fast until she fell apart, and seconds later he followed. Lifting her back into his arms, Ethan stumbled towards the bed. They fell, half on, half off. Righting himself, he cut the lights, pulled up the covers and settled her against his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. “For saying what you did and for just being Annabelle tonight.”
She di
dn’t answer, instead patting the hand he had on her waist, and seconds later they were both asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ethan was called away before the wedding the following day. Annabelle wasn’t ready, so she was picked up by Uncle Mitch, who would take her to the church where she would meet up with Ethan. Annabelle was pleased for the break. Her emotions were a mess, and she needed some time to sort them out—time to put the poker back into her spine so she could once again back away from him, because right now, she was totally under his spell, totally enthralled by the Texan.
She was pretty sure it was the emotion that was doing it; all this heavy stuff between him and his family was making her feel unsettled. Seeing him in this new light wasn’t helping, either. He was vulnerable here in his family home, where for years he had taken the abuse his father had thrown at him, and she could see him doing it. Standing silently while he was attacked—it just about broke her heart. Annabelle had a really bad feeling that she was in up to her neck, and even worse, she wasn’t sure she could pull back.
Their lovemaking was out of the park. He just touched her and she combusted. With him she’d lost the ability to be a hard ass. He made her weak and soft, and all those other horrible things that she’d heard happened to women when they least expected it to happen.
She had to try to reclaim who she was, the woman who put all her emotions into a locked and bolted compartment inside her head, where they couldn’t make her vulnerable or weak.
“Regroup, Annabelle. You’ve done it a few times. You can do it again.”
Looking in the mirror, she put on Macy’s pink diamond necklace and stood back a step to check her appearance.
The dress looked good and showed off her best asset, her legs. In soft pink, it had a tight silk sheath that cupped her breasts and finished a few inches above her knees. A sheer over skirt fell from below the bodice, and swirled as she moved. The necklace twinkled as the light caught it. She prayed the clasp wouldn’t break.
She’d straightened her hair so it fell to her shoulders in a silky curtain, and highlighted her eyes with makeup. Her lips were painted in a shinny gloss, and Annabelle thought she looked as good as she could, but knew she’d fall short of some of the other guests. Grabbing the small silver bag Macy had insisted she bring, she stepped into her high, strappy, silver sandals, and went to answer the door as someone knocked.