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Done and done.But behind closed doors…
It’s my turn to make a fist, and I bang it against the deep green marble tabletop. Victor will ruin us, and I don’t have any allies in New York–at least, none who can help me with someone like him. I scrub my fingers against my forehead, threading them into my dark-brown hair and trying to think of something,anythingto get him out of our lives.
“Blake, is that you?” The deep voice startles me, and I turn so fast, a miniature knight in actual chain mail on a matching horse falls off the table.
The man steps forward quickly and catches it, putting his body in direct proximity to mine, filling my nose with the rich scent of sage and citrus. It floods my brain with memories, and as he stands straighter, my throat grows tighter.
Hutchence Winston is a blast from my father’s discarded past, a face I haven’t seen in years. A face that is now a grown man’s, towering over me with dark hair curling at his temples. He’s dressed in a proper suit for a wake, and his broad shoulders and muscular arms strain beneath the expensive fabric. My knees actually weaken.
I’ve known a lot of men, and I’m not easily impressed. Still, he’s always had this effect on me, since we were kids. For a moment, I almost forget I have a very real problem.
Key word:Almost.
Clearing my throat, I slide my hands down, straightening the sheer black overlay on the short, ivory-silk dress I’m wearing.
“Hutch.” I hold out a hand to shake. “What are you doing here? I thought the Winstons dropped off my father’s friends list years ago.”
The truth is, the Winstons and the van Hamiltons have a prickly history, going back to the founding of Hamiltown, our namesake village near the South Carolina coast.
It’s a long story for another day.
Hutch’s dark brow lowers over his stunning pale green eyes made more stunning by his suntanned olive skin. A short beard covers his cheeks, accentuating his full lips, and he curls his perfect nose at me.
“I’m not here for you or your father.” There’s the annoyed tone I remember. “I was visiting my dad while on my leave, and your uncle asked me to check on you. I assured him you were fine, but he insisted I come here in person.”
“And here you are.” Crossing my arms, I do my best to pretend I don’t give a shit. “You know, I’ve never understood your relationship with my great uncle.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Have you ever had a real friendship in your life?”
That stings, and I blink quickly to stop the burn in my eyes.Bastard.
“Shows what you know.” Shaking my long hair back, I force a smile. “I guess you think being in the army makes you some kind of hero now?”
“I’m an officer in the Marine Corps. I don’t know abouthero, but it’s a worthwhile occupation.”
He says it like another challenge, as if to ask what I’m doing with my life that’s so great, and it gives me an idea.
Stepping forward, I place my hand on his solid forearm, lowering my voice. “I’m sorry. I was rude. It’s been a difficult week.”
The corner of his left eye twitches. Hutch has known me too long to fall for any sweet act, but if I’m going to get his help, perhaps I can use the unspoken tension between us to my advantage.
My touch doesn’t put him at ease, but his voice gentles. “I’m sure it’s been a hard time. Your uncle was worried you might need assistance… somehow.”
“You’re so kind.”
“I’m not kind. I don’t want to be here, and I’m sure you have handlers.”
“You’ve always known everything.” I do my best to flirt, sliding my fingers along his Armani suit. “You pretend I’m the snob, but I think you’re far more snobbish than I am.”
“I don’t play games, Blake.” He catches my hand from rising to his shoulder, and the muscle in his jaw moves. “I’ve fulfilled my obligation. You look fine to me.”
“You look pretty fine to me, too.” Holding his hand, I pull it behind my back so my body presses to his, my small, teenage breasts flatten against his solid chest. His eyes flare, and I rise on my toes to speak in his ear, allowing my lips to brush his skin. “A little southern comfort would be nice.”
I’m willing to kiss him if it’ll do the trick, but when I meet his gaze again, fire is in his eyes. I can’t tell if he’s turned on or furious–or both. He yanks his hand out of mine and grips my shoulders, moving my body away from his.
“You're drunk if you think I’d blow my reputation that way.”
“So you’re thinking about it?” My voice is sultry, and I can’t tell.Is he?
