ARROGANT PLAYBOY (66 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’s 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.”