Strung Out (16 page)

Erik turned to Talia and winked. The simple action was so at odds with the situation that it warmed her heart and gave her hope. After this many years the man was bound to have a handle on how to deal with his domineering mother.

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. They were warm and soft against her knuckles. Their gazes met, and everything else slid into the background. A silky heat began building between her legs.

“Why don’t the two of you sit down?”

Reality snapped back into focus. Erik moved toward a sofa, tugging Talia along with him. He settled into the corner and lounged back against the cushions. But before she could arrange herself into a ladylike position beside him, he pulled her into the curve of his body. He was wonderfully warm in a room where the chill had more to do with the occupants than the temperature.

“I know the two of you met at Mother’s reception, but how did this all come about?” It was Desiree who asked the question after taking a chair opposite the sofa.

This information garnered new interest from their younger sister. “You met at
Mother’s
reception?”

She was no doubt trying to decide how Talia had managed to crash their party when Erik stepped in to smooth things over. “Talia is a talented musician, Selena.”

Selena examined her perfect manicure. “Lounge singer?”

Talia gritted her teeth. Someone was in serious need of a reality check. She’d had students like this before. They were usually the ones whose trust funds gave them no interest in scholarships. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t sing.”

Desiree looked back and forth at the two of them, amusement plain on her face. “Piano and strings, as I recall.”

Talia was surprised by the friendly tone. “That’s right.”

“Where did you go to school?” Annaline demanded.

“I graduated from the Boston School for the Arts with top honors before being offered a teaching position there.”
Which I just lost because I chose Erik over music
. She swallowed back the regret. She’d made her decision, and now wasn’t the time for second guesses.

“It’s certainly not Julliard, but it could be worse,” Annaline commented coolly.

“I don’t know what the two of you are so upset about.” Desiree waved a hand toward Erik. “So he decided not to marry Courteney. Do you really mind? I seem to recall a conversation not long ago where the two of you were bitching nonstop about adding the Coltons to your permanent guest list. At least Talia doesn’t have a bunch of relatives you’ll have to entertain.”

“Speaking of relatives.” Selena latched onto the idea with enthusiasm. “Where are yours?”

How many times had she been asked that question in a thousand different ways? In her younger years she’d tried making up different scenarios, trying on pasts like other people did costumes. But it always came back around to the same ugly truth. “My parents are gone, and I have no other relatives.”

Erik’s arm tightened briefly where it rested near her shoulders on the back of the sofa. She knew he was acknowledging her painful past. But how could he possibly understand it?

“Well at least that’s a bright spot on the horizon,” Selena muttered. “There’s nothing worse than the prospect of a hundred new relatives driving in from every backwoods town in Massachusetts to attend the wedding and drain the bar dry.”

“Wow, Mother, you’ve done such a good job of raising Selena to be a typical Aasen snob. It’s a wonder no man has snapped her up yet.” Desiree’s voice dripped sarcasm, which her sister returned in the form of an acidic smile.

“I don’t see any man sweeping you off
your
feet, Miss I Just Turned Thirty-five.” Annaline glanced at her watch and stood up. “Selena and I are going to be late for our tennis match. But I’ll have Jackie contact you tomorrow with open dates for the ceremony. We’ll have to get started immediately with the preparations in order to make the Christmas deadline.”

Talia was getting whiplash. “Christmas?”

“Yes, Christmas.” Annaline took two steps toward the veranda and picked up a designer tote bag and a tennis racket. “With that insane public airport proposal to live up to, a romantic Christmas ceremony is the only possible option. Besides, people are already happy at Christmas, so they’ll be less likely to focus on the bride’s social shortcomings.” She tossed the last bit of optimism over her shoulder as she followed Selena out the French doors into the late fall sunshine.

As if on cue, Erik’s phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and sighed. “I’ve got to take this call, Talia. Are you okay for just a minute?”

He barely waited for her to acknowledge him, dropping a kiss on her forehead and ducking back out into the hallway. It was like being stripped naked in front of strangers. But Desiree didn’t seem put off by their situation in the least.

“Our mother is just so warm and fuzzy. I don’t know how we can stand to be away from her.” Desiree made a face. “I’m Desiree, by the way. And I have been dying to meet you.”

Talia was taken aback by the earnest tone in the other woman’s voice. “Why would you want to meet me?”

“Because any woman who can make my brother throw away a billion-dollar merger is worth knowing.”

* * *

Erik snapped his phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket. Family bullshit, business bullshit—it was all just bullshit, and it was getting old. Keeping Talia was his decision. Why was everyone convinced they should have a say about it?

He sighed and leaned against a window casing. The green lawn swept away from the house until it broke at the tree line. Remnants of this year’s leaves still clung tenaciously to the thick tangle of trees and brush that separated Aasen property from the neighboring estate.

As children, he and Desiree had played in those woods. Hours upon hours had gone by while they’d imagined fantasy worlds of knights, princesses, and ferocious dragons. The two of them had always been much closer to each other than Selena. But Selena had been their mother’s shadow since she was old enough to play dress up in her closet. Things hadn’t changed much in their adult lives. Since their father’s death and Erik’s subsequent takeover of his business responsibilities, he had returned to the estate only rarely. And thoughts of his childhood came even less frequently.

Feminine laughter drifted into the hallway, and he turned away from the window. Desiree supporting his decision to keep Talia was a relief. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t keep asking him why he’d done it.

Chapter Fifteen

If the rest of Erik’s friends were as welcoming as Desiree, Talia was going to be just fine. But she wasn’t naive enough to believe she could get that lucky, which was why her heart was hammering inside her chest when they pulled up in front of Boston’s priciest steakhouse.

The Beacon Street address was on a prime corner location. The modernized wood-and-glass facade didn’t look as though it belonged to the warped brick sidewalk out front. Talia tried not to notice how perfectly the same contrast applied to her and Erik.

“Have I told you how sexy you look tonight?”

A grin appeared despite her nerves. “I don’t remember if you said it, but I think your actions were loud and clear.”

“I’ll admit it. I have a problem. The way that dress is hugging your curves makes my hands jealous.”

She rolled her eyes. “That has got to be the cheesiest line ever.”

“Is it working?”

A laugh bubbled out before she could swallow it back. “Yes. It is.”

A valet approached the driver’s door, and Erik grimaced. “We’ll finish this later. For now, it’s time to make the rounds.”

Talia picked a piece of imaginary lint from the snug skirt of her borrowed black dress. The stretchy spandex stuff hugged the good and the bad parts of her body, and the neckline skated low over the tops of her breasts. Acutely aware that her dress was held up more by sheer will than design, Talia exited the car with extra care once the valet opened her door.

Erik tucked her arm into his. “Let’s get you inside before I change my mind and order something to go.”

A brisk wind chilled her bare legs, and she pulled the borrowed black wrap closer around her shoulders. The heat of his skin warmed her through his jacket, and she bit back a request to take him up on his offer to order out.

A smiling hostess in black-and-white opened the front door, and mouthwatering smells wafted out of the restaurant. The only thing Talia knew about the place was that the menu was beyond expensive. She and Leslie had once spent a few minutes having a laugh about people who paid top dollar for everyday cuisine just to prove they could.

The low murmur of dinner conversation served as an audio background to the upscale restaurant’s soft taupe walls, white accents, and antiques scattered about. Overhead the chandeliers had been encased in large rust-colored shades. The effect was a fascinating cluster of halos connected by swooping baroque-style shadows.

“Good evening, Mr. Aasen. Your party is waiting.” A hostess took Talia’s wrap and handed it off before leading them toward an arched opening in one wall.

Talia felt like the country mouse come to town. All around them, smiling waiters in black with white aprons that hung nearly to their shins served plates of artfully arranged food. The restaurant was tightly packed, and yet the staff whirled about in a complex dance that managed to be both efficient and unobtrusive at the same time.

Their hostess beckoned them on past the diners, through a service area, and down into a narrow brick stairwell. It had the slightly musty scent of one of Boston’s historical sites, and a chill danced down Talia’s spine. Their trip down the cool brick steps was surprisingly short. A large room opened up before them, and she realized they were in the restaurant’s wine cellar.

Soft lighting covered the low ceiling, casting eclectic shadows on walls full of dark cubbyholes housing bottles of wine laid on their sides. A table intimately set for nine was placed center stage, and several guests were already present and chatting amicably among themselves.

“Erik!” A massive man stood up and waved them over. “It’s great to see the two of you again.”

They drew closer, and Talia got a better view of the guests. The man standing at the table was Joshua Breckenridge, the golden-haired Adonis from the engagement party. It’d been a handful of days since that party, and yet it seemed like a lifetime. Despite the nervous bubbles in her belly, she couldn’t help but return Joshua’s infectious smile.

It was obvious from the way Erik took Joshua’s hand that he was truly glad to see the other man. It was almost as if Erik was just as relieved to see a friendly face as Talia. “Good to see you again, Josh.”

“And Talia.” Joshua’s large hand enveloped hers, and he brought it to his lips. The sparkle in his blue eyes told her the chivalry was more to poke at Erik than anything else, but she appreciated the warm welcome all the same. “That scene on the balcony the other evening makes a little more sense now. But then Erik has always been a lucky son of a bitch.”

A snort farther down the table drew her attention to the other familiar giant from the balcony scene. She made a face at the dark-haired man with the whiskey eyes she recognized as Seth Overton. “Regardless of what
he
thinks, Joshua, I appreciate the compliments. I think he could learn something from your manners.”

Joshua rubbed his hands together like a comedic villain. “Erik, I can’t wait to watch this one turn you around in circles.”

Beside her, Erik pulled out a chair and placed a gentle hand in the small of her back to indicate that she should sit. “Nothing worth having comes easy.”

Seth chuckled and picked up his wineglass. “Well, shit, if
that’s
your trouble, maybe Joshua and I can help you out after all. Everything comes easy for us.”

A ripple of laughter went around the table, and Talia pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Shifting in his chair beside her, Erik rested his hand on her thigh. The point of contact burned, sending heat through the thin black fabric of her dress and reminding her there was no shortage of coming in their relationship.

The conversation around the table resumed, but Erik’s hand on her leg made it difficult to concentrate. His fingers pressed into her bare skin, slipping like silk across the warmth of her inner thigh. The promise of his touch dampened her pussy. Scant inches more and he could bury his fingers in her slit. And the mere thought of his soft fingertips skating across her swollen labia was enough to make the walls of her womb contract with longing. The contact, the circumstances, and the constant desire between them were an aphrodisiac she would never get enough of.

Heat bloomed beneath her skin, and she wondered if anyone could see her blush. She glanced up reflexively, looking once around the table before she met the dark gaze of a woman sitting directly across from her. Seated as she was between Seth and Joshua, Talia was reminded of Erik’s comments the night of the party about the two of them. Had Erik actually meant the two sexy jokesters shared women? The body language was there. Both men were leaning imperceptibly toward the woman between them as though all three of them were sides of the same triangle.

Blood pounded through her veins, pooling in her sex and creating an achy heat that made her squirm in her chair. But even as much as the idea fascinated her on a visceral level, Talia could not imagine indulging in such a fantasy.

Her gaze slipped sideways, taking in the man who had become so familiar in such a short period of time. His lean, muscular frame was canted in her direction. Beneath the custom-tailored clothing was a body she knew more intimately than she did her own. She’d touched, licked, and loved over every inch of his warm skin. And despite their doubtful beginning and their even shakier present, she was beginning to put her trust in him. It wasn’t something she took lightly, and the idea of dealing with two men at once was unfathomable.

Talia offered a smile to the dark-eyed woman between Seth and Joshua. It wasn’t returned. A quick glance around showed she wasn’t the only one having unfriendly thoughts. The ratio of men to women at the table was oddly unbalanced to begin with. Besides herself and the dark-haired woman, there was only one other. A strawberry blonde with the pale complexion of a true redhead, she was seated beside a man with black hair, blue eyes, and a rather spare physique. Had the two been standing, Talia was almost certain the strawberry blonde would’ve been taller than her date.