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I glance past him toward the door, then back at him. "You heard them. They defied me, and in my own home. I need to ensure it doesn’t happen again."
"And if you go after them and tell them off, they’ll end up hating you even more," Adrian remarks.
"And I don’t need to listen to this bullshit from someone young enough to be my son," I growl.
Adrian merely laughs. "It’s because I’m young enough to be your son that I can tell you it’d be a mistake to follow them now. Give them time to cool off; then take it up with them.
I narrow my gaze on him.
"Adrian’s young, but unlike the rest of us, he’s levelheaded." Michael raises the glass toward me. "Take it, old man. Enjoy the evening with us. You going after them is only going to make things worse. Give them, and yourself, the evening off."
He has a point. They both do. Also, I’m not sure what I’d say once I caught up with the two of them. I was never around long enough to reprimand Isaac when he was younger. Starting now is only going to piss him off further. I need to figure out another way of communicating with him, and I’m not sure confronting him about his behavior tonight like he’s an errant child is the way forward.
Her, on the other hand… I intend to teach her a lesson so she never sasses me again. I glance toward the doorway one last time, then reach for the champagne. "Fuck it. Let’s drink."
14
Lena
I glance down from the window to where the party continues on the deck outside the conservatory. It’s chilly in early March, but the slight breeze through the open window is refreshing, and heaters have been placed around the perimeter of the area. The men and women I saw earlier mill around. The little girl is playing with the cat on one end of the deck. The cat jumps off, then races across the grass.
"Andy," the girl calls. She goes to step off the deck but a woman, presumably her mother, hauls her up.
"It’s time for bed, sweetie."
"But Andy—" She wriggles in her mother’s grasp.
"It’s your bed time, Avery," her mother protests. She turns to walk away, but the little girl bursts into tears. "A… Andy," she blubbers. "Andy. Meow. Kitty.”
A tall, broad-shouldered man walks over to Avery. "What’s wrong?"
Without waiting for her to reply, I grab my phone, then turn and dash out of the room. Isaac left earlier. We fought, as expected, and he stormed out of the house in a huff. After which, I didn’t want to return to the party so I came up here to observe the proceedings from afar. It’s not like I spent any time stalking JJ as he stood talking with two other men. No, I didn’t notice how his suit outlines his broad shoulders, or how his jacket stretches tightly over the planes of his back when he slides his hands into his pocket, or how the seat of his pants clings to that tight ass of his. And holy shit, I’ve already seen how magnificent that part of him in between his thighs is, too. It’s etched into my brain, if I’m being honest, and the images troubled me throughout last night.
I shove them to the side as I dart down the steps and past the conservatory, then through the kitchen, past Miriam and the catering staff, to the door at the back. I slip out, then walk outside of the golden glow cast by the lights on the perimeter of the decking.
"Hey, Andy, here boy," I say in a low voice as I walk past the bushes. "Where are you, Andy?" I open the torch app on my phone, then shine it into the undergrowth. There’s a skittering in the bushes. The light catches Andy’s eyes and reflects back at me. He mewls, then walks over to me, his tail high in the air. "There you are." I switch off the flashlight and squat down to his level. Andy rubs up against my leg. I scratch him behind his ears and he purrs loudly.
"Gosh, you’re happy, aren’t you?" I scoop him up, then straighten. I turn and bump straight into a hard brick wall. Correction, a warm brick wall, with planes so well-defined I can feel them through the fabric of the jacket and the shirt stretched across it. Big hands descend on my hips. The heat sinks into my skin, straight to my core. The complex notes of sherry, oak and chocolate, laced with the aromatic fragrance of cinnamon assault my senses.
Of course, I know who it is before he growls, "The fuck are you doing here?"
Andy yowls in protest. I pull back, and he releases me enough that I glance down to find the cat has dug his claws into the front of JJ’s jacket. He’s also glaring up at JJ with a displeased look on his face.
"I don’t think he likes you."
"What are you doing here?" JJ snaps.
I blow out a breath. "We can have a normal conversation without one of us losing our temper, you know."
"Can we?"
Something in his voice makes me glance up. Dark eyes, so black they seem like infinite pools of possibility in this light. Or black holes. Aren’t both the same? Once you fall into a black hole, you’ll never find yourself again. Once I glance into his eyes, I can’t look away. Golden flares spark deep inside. A nerve throbs at his temple. There’s so much intensity in his gaze, so much authority, so much pain. I blink. The man’s suffering and he’ll never talk about it to anyone. I raise my hand, maybe to touch his cheek, maybe to clasp his shoulder, but he steps back. He lowers his arms to his sides, and I shiver.
"You’re cold," he growls in an accusatory tone.
"It’s early spring in London, and I’m outside without a wrap or a jacket. Of course, I’m cold."
"You need to get inside," he says in that same snarly voice.
