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"Oh, I thought that you --"
"Yes, I took a vow, but it has nothing to do with the Order. It’s more of a... personal vow," I tell her, having no idea why the hell I’m telling her all this. Still, after that quiet moment we shared in Central Park, I can’t help but be crystal clear with her – even if that means telling her all about my decision to keep women at bay.
"Oh," she whispers, a note of disappointment in her voice. There’s silence then, and we just look into each other’s eyes for a long moment, my heart suddenly drumming hard inside my chest. Jesus, why do I feel like this whenever this girl is around?
"Everyone has to face temptation," I start, taking my eyes off hers and filling the silence with my voice. "And facing temptation is what makes someone stronger."
"So, the stronger the temptation… the stronger you get?" she asks me, lowering her voice into a whisper and taking one step toward me. My heart goes from drumming to racing, and I can almost feel it kicking and punching against my ribs in desperation.
"In a way," I whisper back at her, fighting against the urge to let my eyes wander down to her cleavage. But she takes another step toward me, and her scent hits my brain again, acting as fast as a drug … My eyes falls to her lips and, for a moment, I even hold my breath.
"And what’s temptation for you?" she asks me, taking one more step and resting one of her hands over my chest, her small manicured fingers right over my heart.
"Right now ... it’s you," I breathe out, the words escaping my mouth before I can reel them in. Jesus Christ, did I really say it?
"You know what I like about vows, Connor? They’re like rules … and like rules, they’re meant to be broken," she tells me and, with that, she goes on tip-toes and presses her soft full lips against mine, the strawberry flavor of her tongue making me close my eyes by instinct.
I take my hands to her waist then, parting my lips and allowing the tip of my tongue to brush against hers. Boiling blood starts rushing down to between my thighs and then I --
"No," I tell her firmly, pushing her back. "We can’t do this."
She looks straight into my eyes, her parted lips still calling mine, and then she smiles. With a nod and without saying a word, she walks past me and leaves the house, closing the door behind her.
I remain frozen in place for God knows how long, still trying to process what just happened.
Oh, shit. How am I supposed to keep my vows with someone like her around?
Clarise
I still can’t believe what I’ve just done.
Oh, I know what you’re thinking right now; you’re thinking that I’m a very bad girl, and you know what? You’re absolutely right. If being thought of as a bad girl is the price I have to pay to feel Connor’s lips on mine, then you can bet that’s a price I’ll pay willingly.
Sure, fair enough, Connor pulled back from me. But, for a short moment, he actually kissed me back. And that’s got to be a victory; a small one, yes, but a victory nonetheless.
And the taste of his lips… Oh, God, could there be anything sweeter in the universe? I don’t know what it is about him, but there’s a kind of raw manliness to the way he moves, talks and ... kisses. And I can’t help but wonder how raw and manly he acts when doing all the rest.
I’m so dazed as I head up the mansion’s stairway that I don’t even realize that my mother’s standing there at the top, her narrowed eyes following me.
"Where have you been, Clarise?" she asks me right away, and I stop dead in my tracks, returning her gaze and feeling her eyes cutting straight into my soul. My mother might be stern, and she might care more about appearances than all the rest … but she also knows how to read people better than anyone I’ve ever met. Even when I was a little girl, my mother was the one person I couldn’t lie to without being caught. She was born with a bullshit-detector, I think.
"Welcoming Connor," I tell her meekly, trying to think of some bullshit way to worm my way out of this. But, just like I told you, trying to bullshit her is a lost cause. Her built-in lie detector is always at work, and believe me when I tell you that she never turns it off.
"Connor is important to this family," she tells me matter-of-factly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Now that Edward’s gone, we need someone like Connor more than ever. Without him, this family will fall apart."
"I know that, mother. And I --"
"Don’t play with fire, Clarise. I really mean it. This family already has enough problems as it is," she continues, and then turns her back to me, stepping inside the house with a hurried step.
"Hang on!" I call after her, hurrying up the stairs and following her into the house. "Don’t try to pin it all on me. It’s not my fault our family is falling apart."
"It’s no one’s fault, Clarise. But things aren’t great, and even you can see that," she tells me, turning on her heels to face me again.
"No one’s fault? Last time I checked, Earl’s constant screw-ups and bad decisions are what’s causing all this chaos." I feel on the verge of exploding right now; my body is tense, and I feel anger welling up inside of me. Yeah, I was a bit of a wreck during my early years, but am I really to be blamed for the state our family’s in right now?
I studied hard at Wharton, much like Earl did, but I’ve always been sidelined because I was seen as someone unreliable. But I’ve changed, and I want to help the family. Unfortunately for me, nobody seems capable of seeing that. It’s all about Earl, Earl, Earl.
Even though he’s made bad decision after bad decision, my parents have always protected him, insisting that it’s all part of the learning process. Of course it’s all part of the learning process! But is Earl really learning anything? Because as far as I’m concerned, all Earl seems to be doing is drinking hard and becoming more of an asshole with each passing day. I mean, the scene he caused at Edward’s funeral … that was shameful. And, aside from chiding him for doing it, my father did nothing else.
