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Losing his parents when he was a teenager in the manner that he had had been difficult enough. But compound it with Natalie’s senseless death and he just didn’t trust that the universe wouldn’t rip his world out from under him a third time—just to mock him for believing he could be content and fulfilled and settled with one special person. He’d had his chance, and he’d fucking failed at protecting the woman he’d loved.
“Dinner is scheduled to be served in about twenty minutes,” his sister said, breaking into his dark thoughts. “And I need to go and double-check that there aren’t any problems in the kitchen.”
Arching a brow, Hunter slid his hands into the front pockets of his dress pants. “Don’t you have people who do that for you?”
She laughed lightly. “Yes, of course, but you know me—”
“You need to be in charge of everything,” he finished for her.
His sister was a bit of a control freak, but then again, he supposed that’s what made her such a good businesswoman herself. At the age of twenty-six, she’d already produced one successful, lucrative company—Wilder Passions, an online monthly subscription service featuring the lingerie she designed and created. Now that the business was profitable, she was ready to tackle a second, more illicit project called Wilder Things, and Hunter had no doubt it would be just as fruitful.
Tempest gave him a sassy smile and tipped her head back, causing the long ruby earrings hanging from her lobes to sparkle from the overhead chandeliers. “Must be a sibling trait, because you and Maddux are the epitome of controlling, dominant alpha males.”
Far more than his sister probably knew, and he didn’t deny her claim or enlighten her further. In business, both he and his brother were assertive and decisive and had a low tolerance for bullshit. And for Hunter, that control spilled over into the bedroom and fucking a woman and keeping everything focused on the physical pleasure of the act. Nothing more, nothing less.
“By the way, where’s Kyle?” Hunter asked of the man Tempest had been casually dating for the past few months.
“He’s around, somewhere.” She shrugged, her lips pursing in the slightest bit of irritation. “Probably glad-handing his way through the party.”
Hunter had never connected with Kyle on a personal level, and neither had Maddux, but they’d tolerated him because he was dating their sister. But there was something about the man that Hunter didn’t completely trust, though up to this point, there had been nothing concrete to substantiate those feelings. “Trouble in paradise?” Damn, did he actually sound hopeful?
“There was never any paradise with Kyle,” she said, and sighed. “Kyle definitely isn’t my happily ever after . . . he just won’t accept the fact that the t
wo of us are done on a romantic level.”
Hunter couldn’t say that that news made him unhappy, but the fact that Kyle was being so persistent definitely irked him. “I’d be happy to deliver that message for you.”
She laughed and shook her head. “No, I can handle Kyle, and plan to after tonight. I just didn’t want there to be any animosity between us tonight, or risk him making a scene. But enough about me,” she said, quickly changing the subject as she smoothed a hand down the lapel of Hunter’s tuxedo jacket, her gaze soft and imploring as it met his. “Please try and have a good time tonight, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.” It was a fucking lie, but it appeased his sister and that’s all that mattered to him.
Tempest walked away, and just as Hunter decided to head to the bar for another drink—because the only way he was going to get through tonight was with copious amounts of alcohol to dull his senses—a woman’s sharp gasp redirected his attention to a trio of females gathered on the other side of the large Corinthian-style column he was standing behind.
“Is that Elle?” a girl’s high-pitched voice shrieked incredulously. “I can’t believe she actually had the nerve to show up here!”
Curious despite himself, Hunter shifted his stance to get a better view of the women, then followed their gazes out the open double doors leading to the entrance to the ball, where one of the evening’s security personnel, Michael, was checking the verified guest list on his tablet.
Standing next to Michael was a stunning woman dressed in a beautiful flowing lavender-hued ball gown that accentuated the fullness of her breasts, the indentation of her waist, and the flare of her hips. The gown wasn’t as ostentatious and extravagant as those of most of the other women in attendance, who were all about flaunting their wealth. No, her dress was simple and romantic with a vintage feel, but that was part of the reason the gorgeous blonde stood out and drew Hunter’s attention. Sometimes, less was more, and with her natural beauty, she didn’t need excessive embellishments and frills.
Shockingly, his reaction and attraction to her were immediate and visceral, like a jolt of electricity awakening that part of him that hadn’t been truly captivated by a woman in a very long time. He’d spent years going through the motions because he was a normal man who liked and enjoyed the opposite sex, but this feeling swirling inside him was . . . different. And a little strange. And a whole lot disconcerting.
Yeah, he’d be smart to move right along and leave the beauty to her own devices. He took a step toward the bar before another snide comment stopped him short again.
“I thought you said you left her name off the RSVP card,” one of the other younger women said to the elder lady, her tone petulant.
“I did, Gwen.” Anger threaded through the older woman’s voice, who looked as though she might be the two girls’ mother. “She won’t be on the guest list, so I’m sure she’ll be turned away,” she added confidently.
“And where did she get a dress like that?” Another irritable comment from the female named Gwen. “I never saw her bring that gown home, and I just looked through her closet this morning.”
“She must have hidden it from us,” the other girl said, though she didn’t seem as catty or mean as Gwen.
Gwen pressed her lips together in an unflattering, I-just-sucked-on-a-lemon kind of pucker. “Well, if I would have seen it, my scissors would have accidentally cut it to pieces.”
“She really does look beautiful,” the other younger girl said, her voice almost wistful. “It’s like she had a fairy godmother who gave her a complete head-to-toe makeover. And from what I can see of those crystal-like shoes she’s wearing, they’re absolutely beautiful.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, Claire, stop mooning over her outfit. We look far more beautiful in these custom-made dresses from Paris. Whatever that frock is that she’s wearing, it can’t even come close to competing with our designer gowns.”
Hunter wanted to beg to differ and set the girl named Gwen straight . . . that the woman she was disparaging was ten times more alluring than she ever could be. And it had nothing to do with the gowns they were wearing, but the elegant poise of the blonde compared to Gwen’s obnoxious disposition.
