by Jenika Snow
They went inside where they were surrounded by crystal chandeliers, a smoke-filled atmosphere smelling of sweetness, and of flowing champagne. Waiters dressed in black and white outfits handed them glasses filled with bubbly yellow liquid. Others walked by with silver trays filled with small, dainty looking hors d’oeuvres, the staff’s backs stiff, and their expressions blank.
For the next twenty minutes they mingled. A few men came up and started speaking with Rian, but they were using jargon she was unfamiliar with, and she felt like she was listening to another language. And then when Rian led them into this grand ballroom, the classical music started playing as if on cue.
He spun her in his arms, and this little sound of surprise left her. The music was soft, hauntingly beautiful, and she couldn’t help but get swept up in it all.
“Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”
She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes, but flattery will get you everywhere, so keep it up.” She felt the vibrations from his chest as he chuckled.
“Sorcha.” He said her name softly, and she pulled back to look at him.
The way he had said her name, soft and intimately, had sounded so different from any other time before. And then the way he was staring at her, like he wanted to say something to her, had her feeling her throat close. Was she seeing his emotions for her right now?
He was usually so closed off, but right now he looked almost vulnerable. He cupped her face, and she held her breath. He smoothed his thumb along her cheek. She felt her skin pucker with gooseflesh, and leaned into him closer.
“Sorcha.” He said her name as if he was pained. The feeling of his warm breath moving along hers had her moaning softly. “I want you, but it is so much more than sex.”
Her breath caught, and she exhaled slowly again. “Me too—”
“Rian,” an older gentleman said behind him, breaking up this moment they were having.
Rian closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, and then shocked her by kissing her hard and possessively right in front of everyone. He turned them around so they were facing the man that had spoken. He had gray, thinning hair, wore wire-rimmed glasses, and his eyes were these thin little black beads.
He stopped in front of them, two women—twins—one on each side of him dressed in nothing more than skimpy little gowns.
Their cleavage was all but bursting from the tops of their dresses, and their make-up was caked on. They reeked of money, that or they reeked of wanting money, and knew how to play it well.
“Franklin, I didn’t expect you back from Europe until later this month,” Rian said with a bored tone in his voice.
“Yes, well things came up, and I have been meaning to call you.”
“Have you?” Rian asked, but he didn’t seem like he cared. “You mean you’ve been meaning to call me about the paperwork that you should have signed weeks ago, and how you haven’t been returning my calls?”
“Rian, I told my secretary to forward my messages to you. She didn’t?”
Rian didn’t respond, just continued to stare at this man and drink his champagne.
“I’ll have her fired immediately for her incompetence.” The older man was starting to sweat, and the nervousness in him was very clear.
Okay, this seemed like a tense conversation, and the sound of Rian’s annoyance was becoming even clearer with each passing second. This Franklin man was clearly up Shit Creek without a paddle.
“I’m going to find the restroom,” Sorcha said to Rian, and when he looked like he was about to argue she leaned in and kissed him softly. He got this dark, aroused look on his face. Sorcha smiled, and moved away before he could stop her. She didn’t need to use the restroom, and mainly wanted to gawk at the house, but Rian clearly needed to speak with that man and Sorcha didn’t want to stand there and feel any more uncomfortable.
For the next fifteen minutes she walked around, stopped to look at the paintings that hung on the walls, the vases that had their own spotlights on them, and even the glass cabinets that showcased what she knew had to be Fabergé eggs.
“They’re beautiful, are they not?”
The thickly accented voice came from behind her. She turned and stared up at a dark and handsome man. His black hair was slicked back, his dark suit and shirt, tie, and even his eyes matched the whole “Tall, Dark, and Handsome” thing he had going on.
“Excuse me?”
He pointed to the case. “My eggs, they are beautiful, right?”
She looked at the case again and nodded. “Yes, they are. Breathtaking even.” He moved closer, and the scent of his cologne came through like a warm blanket. He lifted his hand, and it was so close to her that she felt the heat from his body spear through her.
“These are original handmade creations by Peter Carl Fabergé.” He started explaining each of them to her, and she realized his accent was Russian. “These were in my family for the last three generations, and I hold them very dear. They are one of my most prized possessions.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“They’re not the only thing that is beautiful in my home.” He turned her around and gave her this very cocky smile. It was one she had seen plenty of times with Rian. “I saw you alone, wandering the halls and admiring the artwork. You aren’t like the other snobs at the party.” He grinned again.
Oh. Ok. Wow. This guy was totally hitting on her, and she was at a loss for words right now.
“I’m Dominic Adroniv the Third.” He took her hand before she could react and brought it to his mouth for a soft kiss. “Tell me, why are you here alone…” He lifted his eyebrow.
“Sorcha, my name is Sorcha Case.”
“Sorcha, Irish in origin and meaning light.”
That took her back a step. “Yes, that’s correct.”
His smile was so dark and handsome that it actually made her slightly uncomfortable. “So, Sorcha, why are you here alone?”
“I’m not actually.”
That had him looking amused. “Well, then the man that accompanied you doesn’t deserve your attention if he left you alone.”
“I actually wanted to go to the restroom, and got caught up in all the artwork.” She stared into his dark eyes and then looked over at where she knew Rian was. His back was to her, but he was now engaged with several other men in conversation. “I’m actually here with him.”
He turned and looked at where Rian stood, and as if her cocky bastard of a man that was driving her mind and heart wild heard them, he turned and stared at them.
Dominic retreated a step and clasped his hands behind his back. “Ah, Mr. Rian Hartford, the devil of the corporate world.” Dominic sounded a bit impressed when speaking about Rian. “He plays hardball, but I’m glad to say I have him in my court.”
“That he certainly does.” She instantly felt her cheeks heat, because the thoughts that had entered her mind were less than innocent. Dominic cleared his throat, and she snapped her head toward him.
“I certainly don’t try to pick up women that are already taken, especially by Rian. Please accept my apology for trying to woo you with my Fabergé egg charm.”
She chuckled softly and glanced down. “It was a very nice charm, just for the record.”
He smiled and bowed, actually bowed to her in that old-world gentlemanly way. “With that I’ll leave you to enjoy the artwork, and just so you know,” he pointed to a door off to the side. “The bathroom, for when you’re finished.” He bowed again, and then turned and left her alone.
She looked at Rian again, saw that he watched her with curiosity and with a hint of heat, and then his attention was drawn toward the men speaking to him again. She glanced at the eggs again, stared at the detail put into each one, and then finally turned to the bathroom.
She pushed open the door and stared at the marble gold and white opulence. Clearly this Dominic man did not skimp on the price tag when it came to decorating his place, even the bathroom. After using the facility she went
to the sink and washed her hands.
After drying them she stared at her reflection in the mirror, surprised her hair was still in the same perfectly placed up-do as when she first got it, and for the first time in her life she actually felt as beautiful as Rian said she was.
Of course she didn’t think she was ugly, but what woman didn’t have off days where they looked at themselves in the mirror and thought they looked like death run over twice? The bathroom door opened, and before Sorcha could see who it was the woman started speaking.
“I wondered where you went off to.” The woman that spoke was gorgeous and svelte, and had a body that was tight and toned. Her blonde hair was left down and flowing, and her lips were bright red, which matched her dress. In a nutshell she was gorgeous and perfect, and the type of woman that annoyed Sorcha.
“Excuse me? Do I know you?” Sorcha turned around and stared at the blonde. No, she had never seen the woman, especially not if she ran in these kind of circles.
The woman crossed her arms over her chest, which popped out her breasts. “No, we’ve never met, but you’re seeing a man that isn’t yours.” The woman curled her lip in disgust and glanced up and down Sorcha. “I’m Beatrice,” she lifted a perfectly plucked eyebrow, “and Rian belongs with me.”
Oh. Okay, this was awkward, and clearly the woman Rian had gotten the text message from. “I’m Sorcha—”
“Save it. I know every woman wants Rian. He’s quite the catch, wealthy and comes from a good family, but you and I need to get something straight.” The woman stepped forward. “He has commitment issues, and because of that I am giving him a little bit of breathing room.”
Sorcha knitted her brows when the woman stepped forward once more. They were only inches from each other now. “I think you misunderstand what is going on here.”
Beatrice shook her head. “No, I didn’t misunderstand anything. You’re just another one of his sluts that he’ll get rid of when he gets bored.”
Anger filled Sorcha, and she curled her hands into fists by her sides. This woman insulted her, yet she knew nothing about her. “Kind of like you, right?” Sorcha lifted her eyebrow in return and smiled when Beatrice’s face went red.
“How dare you? Do you know who I am?”
“I don’t give a shit who you are. Clearly you don’t know who I am.” Sorcha took a step closer, and although she wanted to slap this bitch, she wasn’t going to. “Now back the fuck up, and when Rian gets ‘bored’ with me, he’s all yours.” Sorcha hated saying that, because her feelings for Rian had grown, and thinking about him with another woman, especially this Medusa type one, hurt. But she didn’t need this shit. She moved by Beatrice and left the bathroom. Halfway down the hallway she was yanked to a stop, spun around, and then Beatrice was in her face.
“I can tolerate Rian sowing his oats until he realizes that I am the woman for him. I’ve been watching him do it for years, waiting for my time when he’ll finally see me, and I’m not about to let some poor bitch that can’t even handle her bills, who is a secretary for Rian, get in the way of me being with him.”
Sorcha’s anger rose, and she tried to control herself, but she just couldn’t, not anymore. “Seems like you’re just like every other woman he’s fucked, and then tossed out.” She was so much better than this, better than arguing with this petty bitch, but there were some things that she just couldn’t control, and being insulted by this rich bitch was pushing it. “You’re nothing but a snob.” Sorcha gritted her teeth, but before she could say anything else, or walk away, which was the smart thing to do, Beatrice slapped her right across the face.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed off the walls and cathedral style ceilings, but it was the sudden deathly silence that filled and surrounded Sorcha. She cupped her cheek on instinct, felt her rage grow as the blood rushed to the point of abuse, and knew that if it came down to it she’d beat this bitch’s ass. Instead of taking the bait she turned and left.
“Sorcha,” Rian said in this concerned voice.
She walked by him and shook off his hold when he tried to stop her. “Please, Rian. I can’t stay here. I just need to be alone for a little bit, gather my thoughts.” She wasn’t trying to be a bitch to him, or push him away from how she felt. But everything Beatrice said struck her deep, and all she needed was a little alone time. Yes, she was running, but there was nothing wrong with that on occasion.
“Please, Sorcha baby,” he said in this pained voice, and she wanted to just run into his arms, but she refrained.
“I just need a minute, Rian. We’ll talk later.”
He clenched his jaw, but nodded. It looked like he wanted to argue, but he nodded. Surely he knew what it meant to need some time alone. She headed right out the front door and found the limo they had come in parked a ways down.
The driver stood beside it, and she walked toward him. He saw her approach and straightened, looked behind her probably for Rian, but she just climbed in the back seat without his help.
“Miss?” he said and leaned down to look in the open doorway.
She wanted to go home, to her home, but instead she looked at him and told him to take her to Rian’s place. He looked at her cheek, probably saw a handprint covering it, but she just turned her head away and told him without words to get the fuck moving and stop gawking.
God, she wanted Rian more than she had ever wanted another man. But if he cared for her as much as she thought he did, as much as she saw in his face as he looked at her, could she really live in this kind of lifestyle?
24
Rian wanted to go with her, to follow Sorcha out and talk to her. He had seen part of the altercation between Beatrice and Sorcha, but Beatrice was lucky Sorcha hadn’t kicked her ass, because his woman could have taken her easily.
He fumed that Beatrice had confronted her, and hit her, and he wasn’t going to stand by and let this slide.
Of course he had known Beatrice would be here, because her family ran in the same circles as he did. But to think she’d stoop this low, actually hit Sorcha because of her jealousy, pissed Rian off.
“Excuse me.” Rian excused himself from the stockbrokers he spoke to and made his way toward Beatrice, who was now speaking with another socialite. He stopped behind her, so angry he was squeezing the champagne glass so tightly he thought he might shatter it. The woman Beatrice was speaking with straightened and looked at him, clearly sensing his rage, and excused herself.
Beatrice turned around and stared at him with this bored expression on her face. “Rian, I take it you saw that little show?” she said and glanced around, clearly not caring how shit went down.
“What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he said in a low voice, and took hold of her arm to lead her away from the crowd that was making their way toward them. He pulled her toward a secluded corner, and didn’t hide his anger for her.
“Rian, calm down. I did you a favor. I know she is your secretary, and that you have a hard-on for your staff, but she is nothing but trash.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ve told you before, and will tell you again, being with me will make our families strong, Rian.”
“Just shut the fuck up, Beatrice.” His hands shook with his rage. “How dare you think you can put your hands on anyone, especially Sorcha, all because you have this dramatized fantasy in your head that what we did for a couple of weeks was more than just fucking.”
Her cheeks turned red, and she pursed her lips. “I’m not a fool to think it wasn’t just about sex for you, and honestly it was for me, too.” She took a step closer to him. “But after those couple of weeks I started to feel more for you, and although it certainly isn’t love, it is enough to start something.”
“There is nothing between us, and even if I had entertained the thought, your little act of assault sealed the deal that I don’t want you.”
The anger faded from her face, and she exhaled. “I’m not apologizing for what I did, but you have to k
now that I cared about you, and then you just discarded me like I was nothing.”
Although he was angry with her and wanted nothing more to do with her, he couldn’t deny that her words reminded him of what Sorcha had told him in the car when they had gone shopping in the city.
He sighed, ran a hand over his hair, and tried to get his annoyance under control. “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way, I really am. That wasn’t my intention, Beatrice, but nothing is going to change who and what I am.” He said those words, and although he meant them, he also knew that he had hurt her. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that, but I never led you on, Beatrice. I told you up front what it was we were doing, and you thought the same. You only wanted the sex, but then you turned into this crazy woman that hits women that are innocent in all of this. Because you’re jealous, Beatrice, and that is low.”
She didn’t respond for several seconds, but then narrowed her eyes, and he knew she was gearing up to throw one hell of a hissy fit. “You would rather spend your time with a low class employee than a woman like me?”
Rian had apologized for making her feel like she wasn’t worth his time, but she kept stepping over the line. “You’re acting like a snob.” He was about to leave and let her stew in her own self-hatred and annoyance, but she started speaking again.
“If you want a piece of cheap tail, fine, but you and I both know that she can’t give you what I can.”
“And what the fuck would that be?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her.
“A pure line of children, without lower-class blood.”
And with that he cursed under his breath and stalked away from her. Fuck her, fuck this situation, and fuck him trying to block out his emotions for Sorcha.
25
Sorcha slowly opened her eyes, the heavy feeling of someone watching her drawing her out of her sleep. After the drama at the dinner party, of Beatrice slapping her across the face, and of Sorcha having the strength to walk away and not retaliate, she had lain in bed and stared at the ceiling.