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Chapter Eight
Baxter
I’ve been summoned to dinner. Actually, my grandfather summoned me to a family dinner, but as his whore is going to be there, I refuse to acknowledge a familial connection. I’ve been ordered to dress up, which is utterly ridiculous. I always look smart. I take pride in my impeccable appearance. I can, however, understand the mandate to be on my best behaviour. I’m just not going to abide by it.
I think tonight is finally the night I get to officially meet the whore’s granddaughter. I say officially, because she’s been on this goddamn island a week already and while they’ve done their best to keep her away from me, I’ve been able to snag glimpses of her here and there.
Colour me intrigued. I want to know why she’s here. I think she’s hiding or on the run or something, but even my Order connections couldn’t turn up any dirt on her. Which in itself is suspicious.
Besides, this whole thing is an absolute joke. First, I get told to stay away from the girl, and then I’m summoned to have dinner with her.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, when I get to the main house, Grandfather ushers me into the informal dining room and I discover it’s set for two. Then he leaves me, to go and greet his guests.
What the hell is he playing at? He obviously has some sort of agenda here. Why else would he have had a complete 180? I pray The Order isn’t involved somehow. I can’t fuck with the girl if she’s somehow tied to The Order. I’m pretty sure my life is dangling by a thread with them anyway, and if they’re going to such great pains to hide this girl’s identity...well, I’m just saying, no pussy is worth all that.
When I hear voices in the hallway outside, I sneak over to peek through the small crack where Grandfather didn’t quite shut the door. I smirk as the object of my interest recognises my grandfather and her jaw goes slack. Her bright green eyes are like saucers. Interesting. So she’s never met him before but she recognises him. That’s good; she’ll be easier to seduce if she knows who I am and what I’m heir to. Chicks dig that rich heir shit.
I have to move away from the door when I see how Cordelia and my grandfather are looking at one another. It’s enough to put anyone off their dinner, and I’m actually quite looking forward to this.
The girl looks beautiful. That’s my first thought when the doors swing open and they step across the threshold. She looks surprised to see me, obviously unaware of my presence – which is good because it means she hasn’t noticed my...observing her all week. I definitely wouldn’t call it stalking. More, keeping tabs on. A friendly watchful eye.
Finally, seeing her up close and from the front, it’s like all the little missing pieces of a puzzle come together and I get the overall picture. Before I just had snapshots, flashes, glimpses, but now I can stare to my heart’s content. She’s stunning. But not what I was expecting.
Her cheekbones are high, her nose straight. She has the perfect blow job pout that could keep a man hard for days. Her long black hair flashes with shades of blue even in the intimate lighting of the dining room. I can just imagine wrapping those long tresses around my fist to control her every movement. My dormant dick starts to stir like a predator coming out of hibernation.
I knew she had shapely legs from watching her sunbathe by the pool, but now in her short but elegant – and clearly grandmother approved – dress, I can’t take my eyes off them. In heels, she’s a vision. I hope she keeps them on later while we’re fucking. I may have to insist on it.
“Ah, Charlotte. Sorry, Raven.” My grandfather getting flustered pulls me out of my fantasies. Shame. “This is my grandson, Baxter. Baxter, this is Cordelia’s granddaughter, Raven.”
I watch her closely as she cringes at the way my grandfather muddles her name up. I feel her eyeing me wearily. She doesn’t like his slip up, she knows I’ll have questions and she doesn’t want to open up to me. I can see how guarded she is in everything from her shuttered eyes to the tense way she’s holding herself.
I stand to greet her, always polite and on ceremony when my grandfather is around. It’s one of many roles I’m used to playing. So many roles. In The Order, I’m the silent assassin, ruthless and efficient. To the Knox brothers, I’m a misconceived threat to the girl they love. To Amelie I’m...a friend. That’s not a role I’m used to playing, but I’m finding it quite enjoyable.
The girl is staring at me, for a beat too long too. I don’t see the usual appreciation flare in her eyes. Nor is there the cold calculation of a gold digger. She doesn’t even look afraid of me, like the people who know what I’m capable of always do.
No. There’s simply a hard, wary defiance in her eyes that piques my interest. I want to get inside this girl’s head, not just her pants. I could crack open her skull and watch her secrets spill alongside her blood. She would make a pretty addition to—
I shut those dark thoughts down. I don’t do that anymore. Well, I don’t do it often. The Order gave me a legitimate outlet for those urges, and I haven’t lost control since I painted Amelie’s mural with Knox blood. And no one even died that time so maybe I’m getting better. It would be both a dream come true and a crying shame if I was.
Although, I haven’t got my hands on whoever drugged me yet. They’re in for a whole new world of unimaginable pain.
The girl in front of me intrigues me. I want to know her secrets, not spill her blood. I repeat that to myself a couple of times over until I almost believe it.
I gaze at her with a cold, fierce intensity, devoid of all expression, until I know I’ve got my darkness back under control. It doesn’t help that she shivers and my cock twitches, like a bear stretching when it first wakes up or some shit.
“Nice to meet you,” I say smoothly, slipping into full charm mode. I even put some expression into my tone. If my grandfather wants to switch plans from keeping her hidden from me, to thrusting her into my path, I’ll play along and he can reap the consequences.
I hold out my hand for her to shake, not moving out from behind the table to keep my curious dick hidden. She doesn’t move for a beat, then shakes her head and steps forward quickly to place her hand in mine. Her silken skin burns mine like fire, and I can’t help but squeeze her small delicate bones in a crushing handshake. I like the feel of her under my hands. I want more.
“And you?”
I bite back a knowing smirk when her reply comes out as a question. So she’s not completely immune to me either then.
Feeling our grandparents disapproving eyes upon us, I raise the back of her hand to my lips and kiss it, all while holding her gaze. It’s a chivalrous, dead move, not really me at all, but I love how uncomfortable it makes everyone in the room.
Keeping hold of her hand, I use it to pull her towards me. Even in her heels she had to go up onto tiptoes to reach as I draw her closer and closer. She’s bent over the table and I finally get a good look down her top. I’m not disappointed. Beneath the modest neckline she has an excellent rack. What I wouldn’t give to be standing behind her ass right now though. The only thing I’d love more than to fuck her from behind over this table, would be to lay her out on it and make her my twelve-course-meal.
She freaks and tries to pull away as I lean in to kiss her, but I still have hold of her hand. She can’t do anything without making a scene, and I’m just trying to be polite. As I close the distance between us, the panic in her eyes and her air of desperation teases and provokes me even more. Fuck decorum. I deliberately aim for her lips.
And they’re so fucking soft and pillowy I know I’ll die if I don’t get to experience them wrapped around the base of my cock.
I’m so distracted by that thought, my grip loosens on hers. Unfortunately, she chooses that exact moment to yank her hand from mine and she sends a wine glass clattering across the table. I grin.
“Ah, young love,” my grandfather titters with a smirk. I cock my head and study him, curious. The girl sends him a death glare. He ignores us both and turns to Cordelia. “Shall we dine in the formal room and leave these two to get to know each other a little better?”
She desperately makes eyes at her grandmother, probably begging them to stay and not leave her alone with me, but Cordelia only has eyes for my grandfather, and my grandfather has a plan. I’m on his side with this one. Go. Leave. Thank you for bringing me a nice little lamb to play with.
The door closes and the girl in front of me swallows nervously. A wicked grin stretches across my face. I’m going to have some fun tonight.
