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“That’s Manon. I tried to save her from that old dickhead, but it looks like she fucking likes him after all.”
I studied him. “You sound pissed off. Have you been there?”
“Nope. I wish.” He sighed. “I mean, look at her. She’s fucking gorgeous. But trouble. We had a drink at the Thirsty Mariner, and she wanted to come back to mine, but I got scared.” He rolled his eyes. “I need my head examined.”
“You probably did the right thing.”
“Once wouldn’t be enough with her. That’s for sure.”
I smiled. This conversation had an element of déjà vu about it. Namely one princess who inhabited that fairy-tale mansion I was about to enter.
One taste of Savanah and I would have gotten hooked. I still couldn’t forget the way her body felt against my back. And if she fucked the way she swayed those hips, I would have, for certain, been a fucking goner. For sanity’s sake, I stayed away, despite it taking the strength of The Rock to not slide into her.
Crisp lit a cigar, while Manon, who kept eyeing off Drake, smoked and chatted to the tall, skinny man with icy eyes.
“She’s Mrs. Lovechilde’s long-lost granddaughter, I’m told.”
“That explains it.”
He looked at me with interest. “What?”
“The fact she looks like she’s come out of a council estate.”
He sniffed. “Yeah. She’s one of us, all right. She’s just trying to pretend she’s something else.”
I nodded slowly. “You know a lot about her.”
His mouth tugged at one end. “You could say that. I mean, she’s fucking beautiful, who happens to be a prick teaser.”
“From where I’m standing, it looks like she’s pretty tight with him.”
“He’s a fucking sleaze. Declan and Ethan hate him. I can’t blame them.”
I tapped him on the arm. “I better get in there for a drink, I suppose.” Just as I spoke, a horde of women dressed up to the nines with guys just as well-presented walked up the path, talking loudly and ready for a night of expensive champagne, good food, and coupling.
I looked forward to two of those things.
Chapter 5
Savanah
Astheywalkedthroughthe grounds of Merivale, Mirabel held onto her son’s little hand, with Freddie trotting close behind. Our former Jack Russell seemed to tag along everywhere they went.
“Did I miss something about tonight being fancy dress?” I asked, bending down to kiss my cute nephew. Dressed in a wizard’s outfit, he was looking more like Ethan every day.
In a green floral maxi with a purple headband, Mirabel could have been at a hippie-themed party herself.
“Cian’s got this thing for wizards. And when we passed a costume shop with an outfit in the window, close to tossing a tantrum, he just had to have it.” She rolled her eyes. She often complained about how Ethan spoilt Cian by giving him everything his little heart desired.
My tiny nephew, meanwhile, chased Freddie, waving his magic wand in the air, like he was casting a spell on the poor creature, who didn’t seem too keen to be part of Cian’s experiment.
“I think he wants to make Freddie fly. We watched a toddler’s show about wizards, and now he’s got this thing about waving his little wand around.”
I laughed. The children had brought a welcomed playful atmosphere to Merivale, especially after the drama of the past two years.
We made our way through to the back and entered the yellow room that faced the pool area.
Ethan strolled in just as we arrived.
