Spring Romance

by Bailey, Tessa

  The only source of light came from the flickering, five-arm candelabras around the room. Long, white tapers burned, and crystals dangled from each base. There were two candelabras spaced evenly apart in the center of the table, one on the side buffet, and one tucked in the arched, built-in alcove.

  It transformed the dining room into a shadowy cave. If I hadn’t been filled with apprehension, I might have laughed at how over the top it was. But this wasn’t a space for laughter. It was ominous. Its walls held secrets of perversion.

  Royce was waiting beside the buffet table, and I was drawn to him. My dress fluttered around me like moth wings, and he was the flame I couldn’t resist, even if he was going to be my downfall.

  He was spectacular, wrapped in a classic tuxedo without a vest, a black bow tied at his neck, and a glass of champagne in one hand. When the door was pulled closed behind me, it drew his attention. He lifted his gaze to meet mine, and for a long moment we simply stared at each other from across the room, drinking in the sight of the other.

  His shoulders pulled back as he straightened, and his intense eyes went wide. He liked what he saw, but it also seemed to be hurting him. I understood. I felt the same ache down to the marrow of my bones.

  There was awe in his voice. “You are devastating.”

  My knees weakened. My entire body wanted to go soft and puddle at his words. He could have said I was beautiful, but no. He’d chosen a word that gave me power, saying I could lay waste to others. I was too tense to respond with words. I swallowed and nodded, hoping he could read the gratitude in my eyes.

  Royce picked up a second flute of champagne from the side table and strode toward me. As I reached out to accept it, he caught the subtle tremble in my hand.

  “You’re nervous,” he said. It wasn’t a question, just him stating facts.

  I took a tiny sip of the champagne, letting the bubbles work my tongue loose. “Yes. It’s better now that I’m here with you.”

  Because it felt like I’d crossed the point of no return. I was locked in, and he was with me. It alleviated the anxiety about whether I could back out and run. All I had to do now was get through it.

  Being around him helped me, but was the opposite true for him? As I settled into my choice, he seemed more nervous. Like now he was thinking about backing out and running. Instead, he set his glass down on the dining table and pulled out one of the chairs.

  “We need to talk,” he said. “And you’re going to want to sit down for this.”

  His expression announced he was so uncomfortable, it verged on pain, so I took the offered seat. He grasped the back of the chair beside me, dragging it away from the table, but he didn’t sit. Instead, he returned to the buffet and retrieved something.

  “Before we get into it, I have something for you.”

  He set the black box down in front of me and dropped into his seat. If this was an engagement ring, it must be enormous. The box, tied with a red satin bow, was as big as a hardcover book.

  My hands shook as I unknotted the ribbon and lifted the lid, my breath held.

  One look inside and I burst into tears.

  Chapter Fourteen

  All the emotions I’d been trying to avoid poured out of me now in one uncontrollable instant. I gripped the lid of the box so tightly, the cardboard bent in my hands. Tears streamed hotly down my cheeks, likely destroying the makeup Alice’s stylists had applied.

  Royce looked terrified. “Oh, shit. Please don’t cry.”

  He had no idea how to deal with me, but it didn’t matter. At that moment, he could do nothing wrong. I stared at the Harry Winston necklace I thought I’d never see again, letting my gaze trace the delicate cluster of diamonds.

  I could barely whisper. “This is for me?”

  “Yes. It’s yours.”

  I wiped away my tears with my thumb, and even though I was crying, I laughed in amazement too. “How? How did you . . .”

  “Alice showed me the picture on Instagram. Costolli let me buy it before it went to auction.”

  I had to look up to the unlit chandelier to keep from spilling more tears. “Oh, my God, Royce.”

  Confusion spread across his face. “You don’t like it?”

  “Are you kidding?” I dropped the lid and turned in my seat, gripping his face in my hands. “Thank you. My God, I can’t even find the words.” Now this heirloom could remain in my family. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  His hands gently cuffed my wrists, and his eyes melted. “Tell me.”

  “It was my great-grandmother’s.” I struggled to rein in my emotions. “My mom wore it when she married my dad, and I hoped I’d get to wear it on my wedding day.”

  “Well, now you can.” He let go and drew back out of my hands, his expression shuttering. “Even if it’s not to me.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be to you?” My heartrate inched toward the chandelier.

  He ignored my question. Royce grabbed the box, dipped a hand inside, and gently lifted the necklace out. He unclasped it and stood, draping it down over my front. The cold line of diamonds kissed the sides of my neck and I held still as he fastened it. It was heavy, but it belonged. I hadn’t felt like something was missing until it was there, completing me.

  His hand lingered at the nape of my neck, fingers trailing down the line of my spine. It gave me a delicious shiver.

  “There’s a mirror,” he said softly.

  It hung over the banquet, and I rose from my chair. He followed alongside, and when I gasped at the sight of the glittering necklace, his eyes filled with pride. I slipped a hand up to curl around the back of his neck, fisting his hair and pulled him into my urgent, grateful kiss.

  Even though our lips were pressed together, he held himself back from me. The kiss was . . . reluctant. Guilty. Like he thought he had no right to accept it from me, when it should have been the other way around. He’d spent a fortune on this necklace, and if I wasn’t so desperate, I should have refused.

  When he ended the kiss, the mood in the room shifted, and in the flickering candlelight, his hesitation made him look like a statue. “I need to remind you of the non-disclosure you’ve signed, because what we’re going to talk about can’t be repeated. Ever.”

  He motioned to the chairs, all businesslike. I shook my head. “I think I’d prefer to stand.”

  He looked pained all over again, a frown twisting the lips I’d just kissed. “Marist, please. This is hard for me, and if you could—”

  “I know,” I interrupted. I gave him the most serious look I possessed so he would understand. “I already know.”

  His eyes narrowed with distrust, disguising his worry. “What do you think you know?”

  “You’re going to take my virginity in front of them.”

  He flinched and went wooden.

  Whatever was going on in his mind, I couldn’t read it. His expression was devoid of emotion. The longer he stood there, simply blinking at me like I was a ghost he couldn’t believe he was seeing, the more upset I became.

  I’d held out hope that he would laugh and tell me I was being ridiculous. Or that he’d say he’d found a way out. He could forgo the archaic and insane tradition.

  That hope died earlier when I came into this room. I sensed it in the air and tasted the hint of promised debauchery. Plus, it was foolish to expect any other outcome. He’d made it perfectly clear he was willing to do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. He wasn’t going to give up a seat with the board to save me.

  Royce looked like he wanted to ask a question, but he must have discovered the answer on his own. “Emily.”

  He’d been wondering how I’d found out. “Yeah,” I said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Betrayal colored his voice. It threw me off-kilter to see him look wounded. “For fuck’s sake, Marist. Do you have any idea what this has been like? I didn’t sleep at all last night. It’s been fucking tearing me apart.”

  “Are you seriously upset with me fo
r withholding information?” I scowled. “You don’t tell me anything.”

  He jammed a hand into his hair, possibly to yank it out. “I couldn’t tell you, no matter how much I wanted to. And—fuck—I wanted to so badly.”

  I sighed, not sure what to believe.

  He took off and paced a few steps before coming to an abrupt stop. “Wait a minute. Why are you here?”

  Had the champagne gone to his head and killed all his brain cells? “What do you mean, why am I here?”

  “You know what’s going to happen, and you’re still . . .” He couldn’t seem to process it. His dubious gaze trapped mine. “You’re going through with it?”

  I fought a losing battle to sound tough and unaffected. “I don’t understand it, but unless you tell me there’s another way, I came prepared to do what”—I struggled to find the words—“needs to be done.” I gripped the elbow of my other arm in awkward posture that Alice would probably scold if she saw. “We both need this to get what we want, right?”

  His chest expanded with a deep breath, and his voice was quiet. “I was sure you were going to say no. That you’d walk away, and I’d never see you again. It’s why I wasn’t allowed to tell you until today.”

  “Because what girl in her right mind would agree to this?” I said bitterly.

  And then I was suddenly in his arms, his hot mouth fused to mine. He wasn’t holding anything back this time. His kiss was desperate and full of passion, and it stole all the air from my lungs.

  “I’ll make it fast,” he murmured as he peppered more kisses to me. “It won’t count. We’ll do it for real when it’s just you and me. The real us. That will be our first time.”

  I found it oddly comforting to think of it that way. I wasn’t losing my virginity while a bunch of other men watched—the fake version of myself would be.

  “I need to know why it’s like this,” I said.

  “I’ll tell you, but there’s something else.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine. Since I was fitted tight against him, I could feel how fast his heart was pumping. “Each board member is going to—”

  The sharp, jarring sound of knuckles banging on wood made us jolt. Someone was knocking on the door.

  Royce’s thumbs brushed over my cheeks, hurriedly wiping away smudged mascara. “It’s going to be okay, no matter what. I’m right here. Close your eyes, and it will be just us.”

  If his goal was to soothe me, it had the opposite effect. It sent my stomach plummeting to my toes. When the door behind us opened, Royce separated from me. The boy who’d been kissing me seconds ago faded into the hard, selfish persona like a reverse cocoon. He turned his cold focus to the men sweeping into the dark room.

  It was a parade of tuxedos and faces I recognized, but also ones who caused a cold sweat to break out and cling to my skin. They filed in without a word, moving like it had been practiced. Four men to the left, three men to the right.

  Macalister was the last to step through the doorway, and when he pulled closed the heavy door, the click of the lock reverberated through my body. There were nine sets of eyes looking at me, but Macalister’s glacial ones were the hardest to bear. My dress hid my shaking knees, but there was nothing to be done about my upper body. The dress was strapless, and he could see my trembling shoulders from where he stood.

  In his refined tuxedo, he could have been a gorgeous advertisement for expensive watches or high-end liquor. But the one that fit best in my mind right now was he looked like a spy movie villain. The mastermind billionaire who could be charming, or sexy, or cruel depending on the scene.

  His gaze worked over my dress, and satisfaction sizzled in his expression.

  “I wasn’t finished explaining it to her,” Royce said. Irritation had him jamming his hands in his pockets. Had he done it to stop himself from balling them into fists?

  Macalister’s attention slid momentarily to his son as he waved the comment off. “It’s fine. I’ll handle the rest.” He refocused on me. “Good evening, Marist. You look exquisite. Doesn’t she, gentlemen?”

  There were nods and sounds of approval from the pack. As their leader approached, my pulse skyrocketed and roared at breakneck speed. To anyone else, his smile would appear benign, but it only set me more on edge.

  I stood still as he sauntered a slow circle around me, inspecting my body like an expensive cut of meat.

  “You can stop this and leave at any time.” His tone was firm. “It’s important you know that. You can choose not to go further or change your mind at any point. No one is making you stay.” He finished his circuit, stopping in front of me. “The decision is yours. So, tell me—who is in control?”

  My throat threatened to close up, but I squeaked it out just in time. “I am.”

  He was pleased I gave the answer he was looking for. “Exactly.”

  His hand dipped into his tuxedo jacket, and a pen was extracted from his interior pocket. It was held out to me. I stared at it, unsure of what it meant. But it became clear when one of the board members placed a leather portfolio on the dining table.

  “It’s not a contract,” Macalister said. “It’s a release, simply stating you’re here of your own volition.”

  They wanted my consent in writing.

  When my gaze flicked to Royce, Macalister took a step closer, pulling my focus back to look at him. “We’ll all be signing it.”

  The black pen was trimmed in gold, and it glinted in the candlelight. When I took it, my fingers brushed his and gave me an unwelcomed sting of electricity. The room was charged with violent, sexual energy.

  The black portfolio had been set on the table beside the giftbox and our forgotten glasses of champagne, and when I moved toward it, Royce attempted to clear them away. I grabbed my glass from him and took a huge gulp, watching him put the rest on the side table.

  “Please, have a seat,” Mr. Lynch said. He’d been the one to carry the portfolio in, which made sense. He was the chief financial officer at HBHC and the man Macalister worked the closest with.

  I smoothed a hand down the back of my dress, lowered into the chair, and opened the portfolio.

  Paragraphs of text filled the top half of the page, followed by ten signature lines beneath. My name first, and the nine who would make up the board after we were done in this room.

  It was nearly impossible to read and comprehend the document as the men towered over me, waiting. I read through it halfway, set down my champagne flute, and tried again from the beginning. Whenever I found myself rushing, the promise I’d made to Alice echoed in my mind.

  Take as much time as you need. Don’t sign what you don’t understand.

  Macalister shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. “Is there an issue?”

  He was wondering what was taking me so long. A contributing factor was how it was all there, spelled out. It said I’d willingly consent to the board witnessing Royce and I during sexual intercourse. That since I was on birth control and Royce had submitted to a physical proving he was free of any sexually transmitted diseases, there was no need for a condom to be used.

  And that I agreed to this while not under any kind of duress.

  It was true. No one was making me do this.

  But if I walked away, I’d give up everything. There’d be no college degree from Etonsons. No chance to save my family from social and financial ruin. And definitely no Royce Hale.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, and the necklace bobbed with it. “Can you explain this line?” I read aloud from the document. “Each board member will have an equal opportunity to evaluate the participant.”

  A cold hand slipped onto my bare shoulder. “You will be naked.”

  I shuddered. Perhaps I should have been grateful for Macalister’s grip because it kept me from bolting out of the chair, but his touch was unexpected. So different than his son’s.

  Like everything else about this day, I’d held out hope that what I suspected wouldn’t be true. I’d f
eared this but expected it, especially with the insisted grooming I’d had to endure at the salon.

  My voice was a ghost, too quiet to disturb the flames burning on the candles nearby. “Why?”

  The fingers clenched tighter. Not enough to cause pain, just enough to remind me they were there. “So they may evaluate you visually.”

  “And other ways,” Royce commented.

  My blood turned to slush as Macalister tensed. The mood in the room was like the stock market had suddenly plummeted six hundred points.

  “What other ways?” I demanded.

  He gave his son a pointed look, irritated Royce had spoiled the fun. “Each member may use their hands and mouths.”

  Hands and . . . mouths?

  I went wooden, and the word came out drenched in horror. “What?”

  My gaze traveled the room, as much as it could with my shoulder pinned under Macalister’s hand. The men staring back at me watched my reaction with curiosity. I was resigned to my fate with Royce, but this? Letting the rest of the board touch me? Kiss me? Just the idea of Macalister’s mouth pressed to mine made panic crawl all over me.

  As he released me, his fingertips traced a line along my back. “I know you have questions, but I think everyone will feel more comfortable once you’ve signed. I can explain when that’s done.”

  “No,” I blurted out. “You can explain right now.”

  He didn’t like being told what to do, and certainly not by me. “If I don’t?”

  I closed the portfolio and went to stand, but this time, Macalister’s grip was more forceful. “This tradition goes back a century, and it’s one you already agreed to.”

  I turned under his hold so I could see Royce. He stood beside his father, wearing an unreadable expression.

  “You’re all right with this?” I was filled with disbelief.

  He was already okay with his dad and boss watching us together, so maybe additional stuff wasn’t that big of a deal to him. Or maybe he’d had his whole life to get used to the concept.