ARROGANT MASTER (24 page)

 
“Someday soon, you will be married,”
Bruce
says, releasing my shoulder from his grasp. “These are
trying times we live in. Temptation is everywhere.”

My father’s gaze travels
between Bruce’s face and Waverly’s.

Bruce clears his throat. “The
priesthood typically does not promote marital arrangements, however, the option
to choose your partner is one that must be earned by staying pure and true.”

He smiles as if to soften his
message that is clearly directed at my sister. The pieces of the puzzle click
together in that instant, confirming everything I suspected.

My father wants to marry my
sister off.

This is the first step in the
process. I’m sure Bruce Waterman will go home tonight, make a few phone calls,
put out some feelers, and report back to my father with a prospective husband
willing to take on an eighteen year old “spirited” girl.

Disgusting.

“I’m not feeling well.” Waverly
presses her hand against her forehead. “I need to go lie down.”

“Waverly.” Dad tilts his head, jutting
his lips out. “You’ll be fine.”

Our mothers are quiet, watching
from their perches on the sofa across the room as the children play quietly.

“Excuse me.” Waverly pushes
past Dad and Bruce and runs upstairs. No one’s going to stop her because no one
will dare cause a scene in front of Bruce.

“Young women,” my dad says with
a chuckle. He’s clearly humiliated. She’s going to receive his wrath tonight.

Dad leads Bruce into his study,
presumably to show off his collection of heirloom Bibles and several antique
copies of the Book of Mormon. I take it as a sign that I’m off the hook, and I
head into the kitchen to clean up.

My moms follow.

None of us say much beyond,
“Can you pass me a dish rag?” or “Can you reach that for me?”

An hour or so later, I catch a
glimpse of my father walking Bruce to the door. They step outside for a moment
and as soon as my father returns, headlights from Bruce’s car light our
driveway as he pulls out.

Dad doesn’t say much. He
marches straight upstairs. When I head up a little while later, I spot my
father leaving her room. I’m sure he laid into her for embarrassing him, and
judging by the fact that he completely ignores me as we pass in the hall he’s
still seeing red.

I knock on Waverly’s door. “Can
I come in?”

“Yeah.”

“You all right?” I slip into
her room and shut the door.

“Of course.”

Her eyes are misty, and I don’t
believe her for one second.

“Obviously you’re not,” I say,
perching on the edge of her bed. “That Bruce guy was a creep.”

She nods. “He was. Do you think
Dad wants him to marry one of us?”

Something like that
.

“I hope not. Dad always said we
could pick our own husbands,” I say, not wanting to terrify her just yet. I
have to ease into this with her.

“Dad also said I could go to
college if I got a scholarship, and he changed his mind about that.”

“Seriously? Are you sure?” I
pretend not to know.

“That’s what he said tonight.”

So he finally told her.

I draw my legs up on the bed,
wrapping my arms around them. “Dad’s changed lately. But so have you.”

Right now I need for her to see
the big picture.

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. Ever since
Jensen came around, there’s been a change in you. If I’ve seen it, you can
guarantee Dad’s seen it too.”

“What does Jensen have to do
with anything? He’s our brother, Bellamy.”

“Kind of.” I examine my nails.
“Not really…”

“You’re imagining things.”

Yeah,
like the shutting of doors in the middle of the night and the pad of footsteps
between their rooms when the rest of the house is asleep…

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. No one said
anything was going on between you two.” I tread carefully, not wanting to put
her on the
defensive
as this is clearly a sensitive
subject matter for her. I know I sure as hell wouldn’t admit to having a thing
for my stepbrother. “I’m just saying
,
you’re different
now. It worries Dad, so he’s looking into ways to…
deal
…with that.”

By
marrying you off…

“Different how?”

I rattle off several examples. The way she looks at him. The
way she spends extra time readying herself in the morning. The stolen glances.
I’ve noticed it all, even with my nose buried in my phone half the time.

“So you think that’s why he invited Mr. Waterman over?”

“That’s my fear. Just be careful, sis. Tone it down a notch.
Maybe keep your distance from Jensen for a bit?”

She sits cross-legged at the head of her bed, cupping her
chin in her hands.

Life just got real for my little sister, but on a positive
note, the seed has been planted.

DANE

If I were a romantic man, I might appreciate the fact that
I’m boarding a private jet with the most beautiful woman in tow. She’s wrapped
in a cashmere pashmina the color of lambs’ wool, hidden behind oversized
sunglasses, and her lips are kissed in red.

She’s the epitome of elegance and grace, and she’s trembling
like teacup Chihuahua.

I take her hand, leading her into two leather chairs. I typically
take the window seat, but the view of the clouds might help soothe her nerves
until we reach our cruising altitude, and the champagne begins to flow.

To the flight attendants buzzing about, I’m sure we look
like a contented couple headed for a honeymoon getaway.

“You’re going to be fine, Bellamy.”

She slides her bag under her seat, dragging her hand along
her soft wrap. A push of air passes her bright lips, and she nods. “It’s exciting.
I think that’s it. I’m more excited than nervous.”

I reach for her hand and bring it to my lips, depositing a
reassuring kiss as the jet
staff handle
last minute
preparations. She watches it all, taking it in like it’s the most fascinating
thing she’s ever seen.

I tug on my sleeve to reveal my timepiece. “We should touch
down in about three hours. Did you get the itinerary Marlene sent?”

Bellamy nods. “Yep. We land at four. We’ll check into the
hotel.
Dinner at eight.
The conference will be
Saturday. All day. Then we fly back Sunday morning.”

The captain’s voice comes over the intercom. Within seconds,
we begin to taxi to the runway. When the plane comes to a complete stop and the
jets fire up, Bellamy reaches for my forearm, digging her nails into my flesh.

The plane pushes forward, faster and faster, the momentum
shoving us back against our seats. Thirty seconds later we’re in the air,
climbing higher until we rise above wispy clouds and the acres of trees and
land below us look like earthen quilt squares.

When the captain announces we’ve reached
forty-one-thousand
feet, a flight attendant makes her way toward us with a tray of champagne
flutes. I take them both, handing one off to Bellamy.

“Should we toast?” Her excitement is almost contagious, and
her ruby-stained mouth is spread wide.

“Sure.” I tilt my glass to her. “To Bellamy’s initial plane
ride. May it be the first of many.
”

We clink and sip, and she turns to gaze out the little oval
window. When she tucks her hair behind her ears, I notice she’s wearing the
champagne earrings, which is good. I need a reminder of the nature of our
partnership because every time I’ve looked at her this morning, a warm fullness
spreads across my chest.

“What’s this restaurant you’re taking me to tonight?” she
asks. “I packed that coral dress you like. The strapless one.”

Her eyes dance into mine the way they always do when she
seeks my approval. The woman loves to dress for me.

“A friend of mine owns a place in downtown Nashville. We’re
getting the private tour and a seat right in the kitchen.”

Bellamy’s face lights. “That’ll make for a fun date.”

Her fingers lift to her mouth and her gaze falls to her lap.

“It’s not a date,” she says. “I didn’t mean to call it that.
I’m sorry.”

“You can call it a date,” I say. “But it doesn’t mean we’re
dating. It just means I’m treating you. Rewarding you for coming with me.”

She reaches for her bag and pulls out a book she’d purchased
on our drive to the airport, hastily flipping to the first page like she’s in
desperate need of a distraction.

“I know, Dane. You act like I’m going to forget. You’re not
my boyfriend. I’m reminded of that every single day.” Her words are bathed in
defeat.

My lips part to respond and then I save it. Apparently I’ve
already made myself crystal clear.

Every single day.

“Have you spoken to your sister yet?” I change the subject.
The less we talk about
us
, the
better.

“I planted the seed last week,” she says, turning a page in
her book and sighing. “She starting to realize there’s a real possibility that
our father might marry us off.”

“So the next logical step would be to pack up and leave.”

“Right.”

“When?”

“Very soon. I’ve been looking at apartments all week.” She
turns another page. “I was going to talk to you about taking some time off next
week to tour them. I’m looking for something close to the University of Utah,
so she can still attend school while I work.”

“My offer still stands.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you. But I’m not looking for a handout.”

“It wouldn’t be a handout. This is what I do, Bellamy. This
is what I live for.”

“That and wind turbines and solar panels.” She turns and
offers me a wink, a bit of reassurance that she forgives me for my emotional
deficits.

I lean in, whispering into her ear, “That’s a very smart
mouth you have right now, Bellamy. I just might have to punish it tonight.”

***

“Did you bring the notebook?” I unknot my tie and yank it
from my neck as Bellamy slinks into our hotel room after dinner. My good friend
and chef, Daniel
Bilby
, prepared us a steak and
lobster dinner, and we watched the kitchen madness all from a private booth in
the kitchen.

I’ve never taken a woman on a date like that, and being in
the midst of the action meant having to forgo any
action
of our own, but it also sucked any and all romance from our
“date.”

Completely intentional.

“I didn’t.”

“And why not?”

“It’s still empty.”

She steps in front of the wardrobe mirror, reaching behind
her and sliding the zipper of her dress down until her bare back is exposed.

“Did I tell you to undress?” I come up from behind, resting
my hands on her soft shoulders. My lips fuse with the curve of her neck, and I
help myself to a biting kiss.

“Oh.” Our gazes meet in the reflection of the mirror as she
pulls her hair over her opposite shoulder. “I didn’t know we were doing
that
tonight.”

“And why would you think
that
would be off the menu?”

“You barely looked at me all night. You didn’t touch me but
once or twice, and not in the way you usually do.” Her eyes widen. “Not that it
bothers me. I figured you weren’t in the mood. You seemed preoccupied.”

“You’re perceptive.” I kiss her neck. “I’m always in the
mood. I crave you always. What makes you think I wasn’t saving my appetite for
the hotel?”

I ran cold because I had no choice earlier. I lost track
halfway through dinner as to how many times I’d mentally pictured myself
slipping my fingers up the back of her neck, grabbing a handful of her soft,
blonde waves, and pulling her into position against the nearest wall.

But now that we’re completely alone and free to openly step
into the shoes of our respective roles, I’m running hot.
 

She glances around our presidential suite and then hangs her
head. “For a man who prefers his life to be…
uncomplicated
…you’re
the most complicated person I’ve ever known.”

She isn’t the first person ever to tell me that.

“Life is never uncomplicated,” I say. “I just prefer my
personal life to be uncomplicated.”

Bellamy sighs, pulling away from me slightly.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I was going to say something, but
there’s no point. Just…tell me what to do.”

“Well, that’s sexy.”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it?”

“Just tell me where you want me, tell me what you want me to
do. I’ll do it. That’s why I’m here.”

The way she says it almost breaks my heart. I slide my hands
under her arms, snaking around to the front of her. After taking a handful of
her ripe breasts, I press her body back against mine.

“You know you’re an important part of my life,” I say.

Bellamy pulls her gaze off the mirror, turning her head to
the side.

“What now?” I ask.

“Don’t say things like that.” Her heart pounds against the
palm I have pressed into her chest.

“I’m just being honest. You are important to me. Don’t read
into it. Simply take it at face value.” I realize I’m asking a woman to do a
most impossible task, but if anyone can handle it, it’s her. “I enjoy our time
together. I look forward to it.”

The highlights of my weeks always involve her.

“I want you to feel special,” I add. “If I take you on a
date or buy you a gift or pay you an unexpected compliment, it’s because you’ve
earned it. And even when you’re on your knees, bound and servicing me, it’s
only because you’re worthy of the task at hand. No one else but you.”

Bellamy wriggles from my hold, turning to face me. “Forget I
said anything, okay?”

She smiles through misty eyes.

“Please, will you take me now,
Master
? I’ve been waiting patiently all night.”