by K. I. Lynn
“Why didn’t we just do this at the Tower?” I asked, to which Vera scoffed.
“There simply isn’t enough room in that tiny dressing room.”
Tiny? It easily held half a dozen racks of clothing, a personal shopper and her two assistants, me, and there was still plenty of room.
“Besides, we are only gauging style, designer, and fabric. It will then be tailored to our design preferences down to the stitch.”
You mean your design preferences.
“That didn’t answer my question.”
Her steely eyes narrowed on me. “Ophelia, your wedding is the wedding of the century. More than any royalty, the world will be looking at you standing next to my son. I think you forget at times just whom you are marrying. Atticus isn’t some common CEO. He is CEO of the de Loughrey Corporation, one of the largest, wealthiest companies in the world. He is the leader of one of the wealthiest families in the world. Your children will one day take his place. You will be the mother to the wealthiest child ever born. And I still haven’t the slightest clue as to why my son chose you.”
My eyes were wide as I took in everything she said. A cold strike of fear rushed through me.
It seemed so simple on paper that I never really took into consideration the depth of the pool I was jumping into. I’d seen bits of it after the announcement, and Atticus had mentioned it before, but it wasn’t until Vera put it into perspective that I really started to understand why there had to be a wedding.
Vera huffed and wrapped one of her talons around my wrist, dragging me into the building. “Come.”
As soon as we stepped in, we were ushered into a private room. The building was empty, and even the doors were locked after us.
I was going to ask what was going on, but then I remembered who I was with.
It was a de Loughrey thing. People threw out the red carpet for them.
Maybe royalty wasn’t a bad description.
“Hello, Mrs. de Loughrey, we are so pleased to be graced with your presence,” a flamboyant man said as he entered. For a moment, I was envious of him because he had way more style than I ever would have, no matter what Melanie put in my closet.
“While flattery is appreciated, it is wasting time.” Vera turned to me. “Philip, this is my son’s fiancée, Ophelia.”
He aimed his beaming smile at me and reached for my hand. “Ophelia, what a pleasure. Come, let’s have a look at you.”
I slipped my hand in his and he raised it, using it to twirl me around in circles.
“Did you receive the letter with some of the specifications?”
He turned his attention back to her. “Yes, and I have a large selection ready, but after seeing her figure, some styles will have to be weeded out. We need something to make it appear that her boyish figure has hips.”
I twitched at that and looked down. Was that why my closet was filled with a lot of peplum tops? To give some dimension to my straight-up-and-down figure?
“You have no hips or breasts,” Vera said in agreement. “What does he see in your curve-less body?”
“He likes my ass,” I said, then slapped my hand over my mouth.
Vera’s stern eyes widened, and she tilted her head to look behind me. “Well, at least you’re curvy somewhere.”
Philip disappeared into another room while we were seated, then came back and handed me a glass of what I thought was orange juice, but I quickly found it to be a mimosa.
My phone went off, and I pulled it from my purse to find another message from Atticus.
Atticus : Take photos of the dresses.
I smiled, my chest filling with warmth.
Ophelia : You know the groom isn’t supposed to see the dress before the wedding.
Atticus : Then send photos without the dresses on. ;)
Ophelia : Are you encouraging me to send nudes? *shocked*
Atticus : Not at all, my dear.
Ophelia : Cheeky bastard.
“Are you talking to my son?” Vera asked.
I straightened and focused on the room again. “Yes. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize if you’re wearing that expression while thinking of him.”
“Oh.”
“I’m a bit envious, to tell the truth.”
“Of?”
“You. That look. I married out of obligation. An arranged marriage like his father was trying to thrust upon him. At the will reading when he stood up to Charles and refused an arranged marriage, I’m not sure I had ever been that proud before.”
“Then you ended up with me instead.”
Her expression fell. “Yes, well.” She fluffed up her hair and continued staring straight ahead. “I can make something of you. You have spirit and strength, and with a lot of guidance, I believe you will make a fine matriarch of the family.”
For a moment I was filled with happiness, but then she dropped a bomb on me.
“Matriarch?”
She turned to me. “Ophelia, you are marrying our ruler, our king. Despite his age, he is the patriarch of the family. That is why there is such discord between him and his father. You are to be his queen, and therefore, mother to all.”
I slumped down, hiding my face in my hands. Mother to all?
For months I’d studied the Binder of Doom, multiple books written on the family, gone through the extensive family tree and was lucky enough to remember Atticus Charles de Loughrey’s descendants, but to be mother to all de Loughreys?
I signed up, quite literally, to be the mother of one. One child. How did I not foresee this?
The first model walked out, pulling me from the weight settling in my chest, forcing me to focus on the task at hand.
What I thought would be hours of trying on dresses turned into hours of looking at dresses. Model after model came out, and Vera took notes. She immediately dismissed some, and others she kept to the side.
It was overwhelming, and I had a hard time saying much more than “I like that.” Perhaps because it wasn’t on me? There were aspects I liked about the different dresses, and all of them were so regal and elegant that I felt undeserving of wearing such beauty.
Is this really my life?
Finally, I was taken back and was stuffed into undergarments and the first dress I’d see on myself. When I stepped out, Vera’s eyes widened and she straightened as she watched me walk in. I stepped onto the platform and took in my reflection in the large mirrors.
It was an A-line gown with a deep sweetheart neckline and scalloped, cap-sleeved detail. The skirt was full and flared out. There was embroidery and beading coupled with tulle and satin.
It fit and accentuated my body perfectly. I felt like a princess.
“That is what we will build on,” Vera said. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” I answered honestly.
And it was. Tears pooled in my eyes, and I had to bite them back. I never thought I would wear something so beautiful, and I couldn’t wait to see the expression on Atticus’s face when he saw me.
Once again, I was wearing more money in my outfit than I probably made in a year. Scratch that—with The Rock on, I constantly surpassed that. Even without The Rock, even taking out the other jewelry that was on loan, I knew I was wearing at least six months’ rent of my old apartment just between the dress, shoes, and purse alone.
The metallic black and gold seemed to almost flow with every movement. I was entranced by the mirror when Atticus’s voice called out. I turned just as he walked into the dressing room.
His eyes raked over me, his fingers brushing against his lips as a groan slipped out. “You need to stop looking more beautiful every time I see you. I don’t think I can handle much more.”
I blinked at him. It didn’t happen often, but when he told me I was beautiful, I got embarrassed. My face flamed, and I had to look away from him.
In a few steps, he was in front of me and he gripped my chin, tilting my head back. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”
&nbs
p; “See, I knew that charmer was in you somewhere.”
With his hands on my hips, he pulled me closer. “You bring it out in me.” He leaned in closer and pressed his lips to mine. “And you know I only say what I mean.”
We headed out to my second-ever charity event, and I was about as nervous as I was at the first. The difference was the calm that moved through me from his touch. Knowing he was beside me set me at ease.
The charity dinner for the Adrianna de Loughrey Foundation seemed almost small in comparison to the event we walked into. Maybe the atmosphere was just different, but the first I went to was all I had to draw on for comparison.
It felt like we were walking into a wedding reception with the dim lighting and sparkles, not to mention the music. The room was already at a steady hum of conversation. I was overwhelmed, and we’d just walked in the door.
“Remember: spine straight, shoulders back. Hold your head high, and remember who you belong to.”
His last words had my abdomen tightening and caused heat to flush my cheeks. They reminded me of the other night, his fingers deep in my pussy as he held me close, driving me at lightning speed to an orgasm.
I was his. My orgasms were his. “You belong to me,” he’d growled, sending me over the edge, shaking in his arms.
A small chuckle brushed against my ear.
“Did I say something to…disturb you?”
I rolled my shoulders back and held myself as straight as I could. “Not at all.”
He leaned in again. “Your nipples say otherwise.”
I glanced down and sure enough, straining against the liquid-looking black and gold metallic fabric were my nipples. A gasp left me and I abruptly turned into him, hiding myself from the prying eyes of the room. “Oh, my God.”
With no bra, there was nothing to even attempt to hold them back. In fact, I wasn’t wearing any undergarments because the fabric picked up any hitch, and even though the dress flared out at the waist, I wasn’t taking any chances. Unfortunately I wasn’t thinking about what happened if my fiancée decided to turn me on in the middle of a very upscale party.
His chest rumbled beneath my hand, and I gave him a small smack against his pec. “Not funny.”
“Yes, it is, but I also don’t want anyone seeing them. I’m having a hard enough time not slipping my fingers over them.”
They tightened again, stiffer than ever, pressing against him. “Stop,” I begged, embarrassment coloring my face.
“I quite like seeing you so flustered. It’s adorable.”
“It is not adorable at a ten-thousand-a-plate charity dinner for children,” I hissed.
He hummed. “I suppose you’re correct.”
“I know I am.”
“Georgiana,” Atticus called out to the brunette approaching us. Her hair was pinned back in dark waves, and her blue eyes sparkled as much as the diamonds circling her neck and adorning her ears.
A wide smile spread across her face. “Atticus.” She held her hand out and he took it, drawing it to his lips and placing a kiss.
“You look absolutely beautiful, as always.”
She glanced to me and smiled. “Good to see you again, Ophelia.” Her demeanor was as gentle and soothing with the air of a princess as the last time I saw her.
She was entirely too nice, and had been the warmest welcome I’d received from any of the de Loughrey family.
“So good to see you again.” I smiled back and held out my hand. She took it and started to say something, but her eyes widened as she stared at my chest.
“Oh, my.”
Insecurity surged through me, and I turned into Atticus again.
“Really, cousin?” she said to Atticus. My brow furrowed as I looked up to him, but the puzzled expression he wore told me he was as clueless as I was. Georgiana sighed, then caught my eye. “Men. They just don’t understand these things.” She held out her hand and beckoned me with her fingers. “Come, let’s see what we can do about that.”
I pulled away and reached for her, using my other arm to try and cover myself. A groan left Atticus. “Wait,” he called. I turned back to him, watching as he pulled his jacket from his shoulders. “Since I am partially to blame.” He grinned as he wrapped the jacket around my shoulders.
“Thanks.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead, giving my hand a squeeze before I stepped away.
“That was…interesting,” Georgiana said once we were out of earshot.
“Interesting good, or interesting bad?” I asked before glancing back to Atticus.
“Oh, it was very good, trust me. I simply never expected the king to bow to a commoner.”
I flinched at the term. It wasn’t the first time I’d been called that, but it still stung.
She noticed and patted my hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in offense. By your reaction, my cousins, aunt, and uncle have probably used those terms or worse.”
“You would be correct.”
“I’m afraid if I say anything more, I will only make you feel worse, and that isn’t what I want to do. What I will say is that in my entire life, I have never seen Atticus that relaxed, charming, or considerate of another person.”
“Really?”
“He would never admit it to any of us, but I know his position is incredibly lonely. He comes across as hard and brash because he has to. In order to be the king, sacrifices are made, and he’s made many.”
What she said wasn’t anything I hadn’t already observed myself. The air around Atticus, the look I sometimes caught in his eyes, was nothing short of cold, dark loneliness.
We entered the bathroom, earning a few wide-eyed looks as we entered. Georgiana pulled me into one of the large stalls. Once the door was locked, she rifled through her small clutch and pulled out something slim wrapped in plastic.
“I usually carry a spare set with me. This isn’t what I normally use, but it will help. May I?” she asked, motioning to my dress.
I held out my hand. “I can do it.”
She sighed and smiled at me. “Please, Ophelia. We’re both women.”
I swallowed and turned, pulling Atticus’s jacket from my shoulders and placing it on the hook. Her delicate fingers were cool against my skin as she dragged the zipper down.
“Turn around.”
I held onto the front of my dress as I shimmied back around. Gently she tugged at the straps, and I let it fall until my breasts were exposed.
“Awkward,” I said as I looked anywhere but at Georgiana.
“Think of it as bonding time.” She giggled. “Ah.” Her voice caught, and I looked down to find her a bit embarrassed. It was odd; she said we were both women, then I noticed the dark kiss mark on my breast Atticus had left the other day.
All of my blood filled my face, and I couldn’t even look at her.
“I’m glad to see you two are getting along,” she said in a gentle but serious tone.
It did me in, and my embarrassment turned to laughter that she joined in on. Once we settled down, she stuck round disks over my nipples, pushing them back down.
“The things we girls do to make these dresses look fabulous boys just don’t understand.” She smiled and helped pull my dress back up.
“They aren’t the only ones,” I said as I looked down. “Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
“I mean for more than just this.”
She squeezed my arm. “We’re a lot to take in, but I promise not everyone is a complete jerk.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Besides, it doesn’t matter what any of us thinks. Only what Atticus does.”
I grabbed Atticus’s jacket, and we stepped out of the bathroom. As we did, Georgiana’s phone went off. She glanced down at it, then to me.
“I’m sorry, Ophelia, do you think you can find your way back to Atticus?”
“I’m sure I can.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
&nbs
p; I nodded and waved as she headed off in the opposite direction. The path we took was obscured thanks to the growing crowd, so I meandered through, searching the faces for anyone familiar, though there was just one I was looking for.
I found Atticus on the outside of the crowd. I expected him to be mingling with his people, but when he pushed off the wall and his eyes met mine, I realized he was waiting for me.
“Better?” he asked when I approached.
I held my arms out and he gave a nod.
“I think I have a girl crush on your cousin,” I said as I handed him back his jacket.
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“I’m also pretty sure she is the best person of all of you.”
“I’m beginning to think you may like her more than me,” he said in a teasing tone.
I leaned forward, my breath hot against his neck. “You have something she never will.”
When I pulled back, his eyes had darkened. “You shouldn’t say such tempting things to me.”
“Were my six little words tempting? I thought they were quite innocent.”
“Say the word, my dear, and you will have what she never will. I will drag you from the building across the street to the same hotel I dragged you to a year ago and do the same unspeakable things as then. With my very large something she will never have.”
I let out a shaky breath. It was tempting. Very tempting. There was nobody near us. It would be nothing to slip out the exit door just feet from us and disappear into the night.
The problem was that I hadn’t given in yet, hadn’t given him the one thing I knew we were both desperate for. I had to step back to cool us both off, or I knew I’d be the one dragging him.
“Atticus?” a feminine voice called out, breaking us from our heated bubble. When his eyes left mine, the heat flooded away as a cold bucket of ice chilled the air around us.
“Antonia. Bridget. Lovely to see you two.”
The women before me were everything one thought of when talking about high-society women. Antonia’s skin was a light brown/olive coloration, with black hair and brilliant crystal green-grey eyes. Beautiful wasn’t a strong enough word to describe her. She was unearthly.
Bridget had the poise and grace of someone born to money, much like Georgiana, with perfect features: piercing light brown eyes, and long brunette waves that cascaded down her back.