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“Ali?” One of the women she’s with calls her name, but Miss Rubens doesn’t acknowledge her past the minute shake of her head. I can feel her friends’ stare, their curiosity, but more than that, I love her reluctance to break this little tit for tat. “We’re heading to the dance floor. Will you be okay?”
Her concern for Aliana is the only reason I don’t dismiss her myself.
“I’m fine. Text you in a bit.”
“If you’re—”
“I am.” A hint of annoyance flashes across her expression, but it’s soon replaced by a smirk matching my own. “Go have fun with your boyfriend. I’ll be here.”
“Okay.” The four walk away while I take another sip of my drink, an action the beauty next to me watches, and when her small, pink tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip, I offer her a taste.
“Drink.”
“Name first.”
I chuckle at her demand, amused by the way her hand goes to her slightly cocked right hip. “Bossy too?”
“I can be,” Aliana says, and the serious demeanor she tries to hold on to crumbles as a low giggle follows. “It’s about the only thing I learned from my dad that’s useful.”
There’s no missing the hint of animosity in her tone. It’s quick, and evaporates the second the words slip past those plump lips.
“I’m sure you’ve learned a lot more than that.”
“And I need you to quit stalling and tell me your name.”
“Take a drink, and I will.”
“Fine.” She tries to take the glass from me, but I shake my head and tip it against her lips. They part, just a small opening, and she take a tiny sip. Not even a third of a shot, but I don’t comment as I’m fascinated by the way she savors the warm notes of smoke and dried fruits before swallowing. “That’s actually pretty good.”
“I know.” And because I can’t stop my impulses when it comes to this woman, I lick the bloody rim where her lips touched. There’s just the slightest bit of saliva there, and I hold back a groan at the small taste. “Perfect amount of heat to sweet with an earthy tone.”
“Agreed.” Her answer is a bit huskier. Her eyes, which I didn’t notice until now, have small flecks of green within those brown orbs and seem a little darker. “It exceeded my expectations.”
“One more.” Taking a step closer, I offer her the last bit in the glass while leaning down until my lips are just against her ear. There’s a shiver that runs through her body, goose bumps rise and spread while a groan reverberates through my chest. Sinful fucking woman. For a second or two, we remain still, just the rise and fall of our chests until I give her what she wants. “My name is Callum Jameson, my Venus. At your service.”
6
Four hours ago...
“You’re late.” Those are the first words to come out of my father’s mouth the moment I enter their formal living room the Saturday after his last visit. No warmth. No asking how I’ve been since they’d canceled the last family dinner without a single explanation. “Where have you been?”
“In traffic.” My reply is just as short, and his lips thin, but before he can respond, my mother walks back into the room with another woman right behind her. My cousin’s wife. They’re dressed in a similar fashion, conservative black dresses with delicate strands of pearl around their necks. There’s also the matching updos, for my mother a tight bun high on her head while the other prefers it at the base. They’re the epitome of Stepford wives, and the tray holding two drinks in my mother’s hand finishes the ensemble.
Without acknowledging me, she walks over to Dad and hands him his drink. “Dinner will be served soon, dear.”
“Thank you, Ada. Please set the table.” He demands every meal to be catered to him: cooked, plated, and nearly fed to him.
“Of course. I’ll be right back.” As she speaks, my cousin’s wife, Alicia, makes eye contact with me, and her disdain drips from every pore. I’m dressed in a simple pair of dress pants and a company shirt, having come from a meeting with a potential donor for the Conte House. And while normally Aurora handles these setups, I took over the pet project as it’s the class I teach that would benefit the most.
“Do you have something to say, Alicia?”
“No.”
“Then please refrain from looking at me in that manner or I’ll be enticed to—”
“Why can’t you ever act like the young lady I raised you to be?” My mom steps closer to Alicia, almost shielding her, and I chuckle. But what can I expect from her? She’s used me as much as my father exploits me. My stealing has procured them both enough money to retire and buy more than one private island, while I don’t get a dime. She’s just as guilty.
A chuckle escapes me while my chest tightens. Not that I’ll ever show them. “You raised me?”
