AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lies. “You always had a talent for getting people to talk.”
“Whilst we’re on the subject of people talking, tell me, Lucian, how is the competition between you and your brothers going? The one where you’re competing to win the housebuilding company? I’m very curious to see how that’ll pan out. It’s a shame I can’t write an article about it. I imagine we would have kept the piece running with daily statistics and polls as to who was the frontrunner.”
How the hell does he know about that? Apart from Josh and Chelsea, I haven’t told anyone. And it isn’t like either one of my brothers to partake in idle gossip outside of our family. I neither confirm nor deny Darren’s findings, and instead cover my mouth with the back of my hand and yawn. I’m bored of the conversation. I take a step forward, as does Darren.
I narrow my eyes, about to give him a snarky reply, when I see her. Chelsea is standing in the doorway of the function room. She looks… my God, she looks utterly breathtaking. She is wearing a figure-hugging white gown. Her blonde hair has been pinned back from her face, which accentuates her slender neck, making her appear as elegant as a swan. Heads turn from every angle, and guests talk amongst one another in hushed whispers.
I turn to Darren, whose mouth is agape.Yes, he’s seen her too.
“It looks as though my fiancée has arrived. Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Oh, that’s right, I forgot, you’re banned from running stories about us. What a pity, because this girl takes one hell of a photo, and I happen to be talking from experience.”
The dark veins in Darren’s neck are bulging and his pulse flickers rapidly. I imagine the story he would have written flashing by him, word by word, and there isn’t a single thing he can do.
“Here, hold this,” I say, and pass Darren my drink, or rather shove the stem of the glass into his unsuspecting hand. The liquid sloshes over the rim of the glass and soaks into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, how terribly clumsy of me,” I deadpan.
Without hesitation, I make my way across the room to my lady. A few people in the crowd try to catch my attention as I pass, but their efforts are futile. I’m surrounded by faces and yet hers is the only one I see.
Her gaze sweeps the room, stopping the moment our eyes meet. She doesn’t smile, nor does she look away. The fire she ignites in the pit of my stomach is affirmation of how much I want this girl. She is really something—no, correction, she is everything. But my beautiful rose isn’t without her thorns, ones I would gladly bleed for if it meant that I could one day have the flower.
I hold out my hand, which she takes. The sound of my heartbeat hammers in my ears and for a second I’m stunned into silence.
“You look… my God, you look…” I choke out, unable to find a word that will do her justice. “Divine, and utterly breathtaking.”
Chelsea’s cheeks glow pink. She looks at the floor for a beat before meeting my gaze. “You don’t scrub up so bad yourself.”
I’m assuming she’s referring to my Hampton navy three-piece suit. The suit was a gift from my grandfather and is one of the finer outfits I own. The jacket features luxury lapels, a subtly patterned matching jacket and trousers. Instead of completing the outfit with a tie, I have opted for a deep navy cravat.
I ignore Chelsea’s earlier warning about kissing her and swoop down, claiming her lips. She doesn’t pull away, she doesn’t tense. To my complete surprise she parts her lips and kisses me back. I fight the desire to kiss deeper, harder, and the overwhelming need I have to own every single inch of her. Muffled voices and music from the string quartet play in my ears, and I remind myself that we are in public. I lean back, reluctantly breaking the kiss. It’s not hatred swimming in her gaze, but something else.
“Change of heart?” I say, leaning in to her.
“No.” Her one-word reply confuses me. What game is she playing? I would ask, but notice my brother’s standing not too far away. Gage is with his date, Sophia Chase, and Malachi stands arm in arm with Louise. It’s now I notice Josh with his long-term girlfriend, Natasha. There are too many ears around to continue with our conversation. So instead of pressing Chelsea for answers I take her hand.
“Where’s my sister?” I ask, noticing Farrah is nowhere to be seen.
“She said something about getting first dibs on designer handbags in the auction room. She told me to carry on without her.”
Farrah and her designer bag collection, God love her. I don’t think she realises how a silent auction works but no doubt she has placed her bid and is doing her damnedest to discourage anyone from outbidding her. I know my sister is only seventeen, but I will not allow her to discourage people from bidding when the money raised is going to charity.
“What a coincidence she is in the auction room,” I say, leading Chelsea toward a set of double doors. “Because that is exactly where we are heading.”
“I’ve never been to a silent auction before.”
And I smile, knowing Chelsea has lived a very sheltered life. I plan to be the person to introduce her to a lot of her firsts.
On entry we are handed a brochure that lists all the items being auctioned today, from artwork to jewellery, and a selection of gift cards ranging from weekends away to spa days.
“All the items here have been donated by guests and sponsors.” I nod my head toward the long lines of tables that hug the room’s perimeter. The tables contain a variety of hampers and gift cards, while a selection of artwork lines the walls. The expensive items such as million-pound necklaces and diamond-encrusted watches are displayed in tall glass cabinets, and armed guards keep watch.
“What have you donated?” Chelsea asks, her gaze fixed on an abstract painting of a child.
“Come, I’ll show you.” I saunter along the table. My gaze roves over the many items on display. I stop when we are standing directly in front of my donation.
“There.” I point. My item is printed on a single sheet of paper and is displayed in a freestanding acrylic frame. Chelsea leans forward and peers at the writing.
“Plot eighty?” She looks at me briefly before her attention returns to the small print.
“That’s correct. A plot of land at Hazelwood Farm. The highest bidder will have a choice of properties he or she wants.”
