“I’m so happy for you, Elise. You deserve this day.” Ignoring Faye’s imploring glance, I disappear into the other room and begin dressing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ceremony is a flawless spectacle under the sun. A light breeze keeps the heat at bay as my brother and Elise declare their love and devotion on the main lawn in front of an audience of two-hundred guests. The men stand tall in a circle around them, Landon’s spot left open for the aisle’s entrance. I’m seated on the side of the groom, considering my role as the Brotherhood’s queen, and the weight of Liam’s surreptitious glances makes me shift in discomfort.

  More than once, I catch Sebastian shooting daggers at the chancellor from his side of the circle. My place in the front row puts me between them. It’s symbolic, a precursor to the destruction on the horizon, and I wish more than anything for a solution that doesn’t involve pulverizing someone’s heart.

  After the ceremony concludes, and the last person passes through the recessional line, I breathe a sigh of relief as I put some distance between Liam and me. Needing to clear my head, I sneak away to my favorite spot on the cliffs and raise my chin to the solitude, eyes drifting shut as a comforting breeze rustles my hair.

  My heart is no longer conflicted over two men, but it’s still breaking into slivers because I only have days left with Sebastian. I’d stop the clock and steal more time with him if I could.

  I’d steal forever with him, and it still wouldn’t be long enough.

  By the time I make an appearance at the reception, my mind is no clearer than it was thirty minutes ago, but the celebratory party is in full swing. Elise’s vision came to fruition without a hitch. Guests mingle at food stations, offering everything from croissants and luncheon meats to seafood dishes and carving blocks. A dance floor invites dressed-up feet to let loose on one side of the tent, while tables promise a reprieve at the other.

  Almost everyone in attendance is an unknown face—dignitaries, political allies, and the crème de la crème of Zodiac Island. The members of the Brotherhood and Elise’s parents are the only guests I recognize.

  And Faye, who’s on the dance floor snuggled in the arms of her fiancé. As I grab a glass of champagne from a waiter passing by, Sebastian sneaks up beside me and settles his hand on my back, his touch warm on my bare skin.

  “Where have you been?”

  “I needed a few moments alone on the cliffs.”

  “Overwhelming day?”

  “A little.”

  “You don’t look it.” He casts an appreciative glance up and down my body. “Compliments to the designer of this sexy-as-sin dress.”

  “It’s actually very modest.” Deep plum silk hugs my hips, skirt falling below the knee. The high halter neckline displays a conservative keyhole cutout. He has his hand on the most risqué part of the dress, fingers brushing along my spine to tease the top of my ass.

  He leans closer, and his breath sends shivers across my nape. “I can’t wait to get you out of it later.”

  “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

  His laughter is a deep rumble, and I feel that vibration between my legs. “You’re desperate for it, aren’t you, princess?”

  “Just how you wanted me, right?”

  “Something like that.” His mouth hovers near mine, begging to sample the champagne on my lips. “We’ll have to pick this up later,” he whispers. “The groom is paging me.” Tugging at his tie, as if the plum piece of silk is strangling him, he heads toward my brother.

  Elise is chatting with guests, so I grab a small plate of finger foods and sit at an empty table for two, settling in for the next few minutes to nibble on veggie sticks and observe the reception as it unfolds. It’s a casual affair with formally dressed people but ideal for the setting. I’m glad Elise didn’t cave to pressure and go with the wedding planner’s suggestion of a formal shindig in the ballroom. Everything about this day has Elise’s imprint on it.

  Spotting me alone at the table, Faye approaches me with caution, sans fiancé. “Can I join you?”

  “Of course.” I gesture to the vacant chair across from me.

  She slides in, and at first the silence between us grows uncomfortable. I’m not used to being at odds with either of my former ladies, but Faye and I never cleared the air after Landon dropped his bomb of truth on me. She left the island before my anger cooled.

  “I’ve missed you,” she says, brown eyes casting apology my way.

  “I know, Faye.” My soft, regretful tone imparts what my words can’t just yet—that I miss her too.

  That I wish she were still here.

  That I’m glad she’s found happiness.

  And how I wish, more than anything, that she’d told me the truth from the beginning.

  “The ceremony was lovely, wasn’t it?” She’s grasping at a way to break through my guard, but I don’t know if she can.

  “It was.”

  A sigh, and then she tries again. “I can’t believe how far you’ve come in your designs. The dresses are beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  She falls quiet for a while, and I think she’s given up on small talk when her attention settles over my shoulder. “Who’s that woman standing next to Landon?”

  I turn, expecting to find one of the two-hundred guests at my brother’s side. Instead, it’s the woman I’d hoped was too self-absorbed to put in an appearance at her brother’s wedding.

  “That’s Lilith Astor, Landon’s sister.”

  If Faye has a response to that, I miss it because Lilith chooses that moment to put her hand on Sebastian, her manicured fingers curling around his forearm. She says something into his ear, and my blood boils. I’m riveted, the guests around me ceasing to exist.

  He’ll tell her to get lost.

  She’ll stomp away, face twisted in a resentful scowl.

  His gorgeous blue eyes will meet mine from across the reception tent, communicating his love and loyalty.

  My mouth hangs open as he follows her outside the tent.

  What just happened?

  “Novalee? Are you okay?” Faye’s concerned tone breaks through my shock.

  I stand in a rush. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  She objects, pleading with me to tell her what’s wrong, but I’m already in flight, feet carrying me across the tent. The music switches tempo as I near the dance floor, and that’s when Liam blocks my path.

  “Let them go,” he says, hands on my shoulders. “This isn’t the place for a scene.”

  “Don’t touch me.”

  His wounded expression reaches the decency that still lives inside me somewhere, and I fight back tears. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

  With a sigh, he takes my hand. “Dance with me. Last time I checked, that’s still allowed at a wedding.”

  I let him lead me onto the dance floor, but as he pulls me into his arms, my heart is still on the ground where he stopped me, bleeding mistrust.

  “He doesn’t deserve you.”

  Unable to speak without breaking down, I hold on to him, my cheek against his chest, and focus on breathing.

  Because if I’m breathing, that means my heart can’t be shattered.

  Right?

  A voice inside my head whispers that I’m jumping to conclusions, that maybe there’s another explanation, and he isn’t disappearing with Lilith like he did on the night of the ball. I consider everything the more reasonable side of my conscious mind points out, but I’m incapable of heeding such wisdom. Maybe I’m as reactionary as Sebastian.

  He’s fire, and I’m air. Together, we’ll set the universe ablaze if we’re not careful.

  After several moments of disquiet, Liam sighs, his exhale disrupting my hair. “He doesn’t deserve you, and yet here we are—me wanting you, and you wanting him.”

  I suck in a breath, still unable to find the right words to convey my level of regret. He doesn’t deserve the pain I’m causing him, but I can’t drag myself away.

  Not when he’s the one keeping me on my feet.

  “It’s okay. I’ll do the talking, my sweet girl.”

  He leads us into a swaying rhythm, but what we’re doing is barely considered dancing. Not that I care.

  “I know I said I’d walk away if that’s what you wanted.” He tightens his arm across my back, his hold on the verge of possessive. “But I’m not convinced, Novalee. Until I get to the bottom of what’s been going on with you, I have no plans to give up my bid in the auction.”

  His vow blares through my ears, a warning that the earth is about to shift under my feet. As he slowly turns us, a set of wrathful blue eyes greets me from the edge of the dance floor. Like a horror film reduced to slow-mo, Sebastian strides to where I’m dancing with Liam.

  Thunderous anger twists his mouth as he yanks me from the chancellor’s arms. “Let’s go.” He’s got a death grip on my arm, and I stumble into his solid chest.

  Liam objects behind me, but Sebastian ignores him, dragging me another foot across the floor.

  “Back off, Castle. This is between Novalee and me.”

  “There is no you and me!” I yank my arm free and glare at him.

  A collective murmur of stunned voices surrounds us, and I realize the sight the three of us must present. The horrific scene we’re causing that will ruin Elise’s wedding if I don’t get out of here now. Turning my back on Sebastian, I flee toward the tower.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I’m blind with mortification, vision clouded with salty drops of shame as I run for the elevator. I make it into the safety of claustrophobic space, breaths coming in painful gasps as the doors slide to meet in the middle, and that’s when a dress shoe throws a wrench in my escape route. The doors reverse course and reveal the picture of a furious man.

  Sebastian barrels inside, jabs the button to close the doors, and after we lurch upward, he stalls my getaway car altogether by pressing the stop button. We halt between floors, and it takes all of my willpower not to pound on the stubborn panels that leave me trapped with him.

  “Let me out of here!” I try reaching for the button that will send the gears turning again, but he blocks me.

  “Stop screaming,” he says, hands shackling my wrists. “We’re not leaving until we talk.”

  I meet the accusation in his gaze with a good dose of my own. “What were you doing with her?”

  “Not what you were doing with the chancellor.”

  “He said you don’t deserve me. Is he right, Sebastian?”

  “You’re acting like a possessive lunatic,” he says.

  “I’m possessive? You made a scene and humiliated me!”

  He grabs me by the nape. “I made you mine.” His eyes spark a deep sapphire, and my breath hitches when he lowers them to my trembling lips. “And now everyone at that wedding knows it. He knows it.”

  “I’m glad everyone knows it,” I say, sarcasm dripping from my words. “Everyone but me.”

  “I didn’t touch her, Novalee.”

  “If it was so innocent, why did you leave the reception?”

  “She needed to talk to me in private. I gave her five minutes, then went looking for you. Instead, I found you in his arms.” Without warning, he shoves me against the wall, my cheek pressing into the cool panel as he grips me by the hair. “You know what won’t stop raging through my fucking head? The image of him touching you.” The admission echoes in the tight space, repeating in my mind until disquiet descends.

  Then his breathing quickens.

  So does mine, and before I can stop it, a whimper escapes. I’m trapped between the wall and his hard body. Mostly, I’m ensnared by my need for him, an unbearable throb that’s only worsened from denial and lunacy.

  Because he’s right. I am a lunatic—crazy for wanting him while he’s holding me hostage in an elevator. Even crazier for loving him, despite the obvious mistrust between us.

  “Sebastian, please.”

  He slides his hand down my spine and cups my ass. “You sure you want it? I’m angry as fuck. Gentle isn’t an option.”

  “Wanting you has never been a problem,” I bite out.

  He shoves me to the floor, lifting my dress over my ass, and impatient hands yank my panties down my hips. Abandoning the stretchy lace, leaving them snug at my thighs, he wrenches my arms behind me. As he straddles my body, his fist a tight shackle around my wrists, a tendril of fear sprouts.

  There’s rough…and then there’s rough.

  I turn my face, cheek sticky against the floor from tears I didn’t realize I’d shed, and draw in a deep breath. “You don’t have to be gentle, but don’t hurt me.” I mean that in more ways than one.

  “I’ll try not to.” His tone offers a hint of concession, the knot of anger loosening. “If it becomes too much, tell me to stop.”

  And risk going months without being with him? What if he holds me at arm’s length for our final days together? What if this is it? He claimed to have said goodbye to Lilith the night of the ball. Is this his way of saying goodbye to me?

  Clothes rustle, a zipper sounds, and then he’s spearing his cock through my wetness. I shudder from the friction, a continuous litany of moans wrenched from my lips. He rubs me to an explosive climax, tension spiraling through me before it rips me apart. Crying out his name, I curl my fingers, nails gouging my palms.

  His grip tightens on my wrists. “Brace yourself, princess.” That’s the only warning I get as he sheaths his slick cock inside my ass. I don’t know whether to howl from pain, or groan from…something else entirely. Each pummeling thrust claims and punishes, bringing him so deep he becomes part of me.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, my head held to the floor by his dominating hand, helpless to do anything but take what he’s unleashing on my body.

  “This ass is mine.” His breathing is erratic, his hands as punishing as his cock. “Mine, Novalee. It’ll never be his. You will never be his.” He wrenches me up by the shoulders, and his hand circles my throat as he pumps from behind, never breaking his viscous pace.

  “Tell me you love me.” The fervent demand hits my neck, hot lips following, teeth nipping.

  “I love you.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt. No going back.

  A tremble shakes through his limbs, catapulting him to the verge. He lowers his hand from my throat and presses a palm over my heart. “Tell me I’m the only one in here.” It’s more plea than demand, a glimpse into the vulnerable soul of a man who thirsts to be the first choice.

  The only choice.

  “You are. It’s always been you.”

  There’s never been more truth between us, even as uncertainty widens the gap. He wraps me in his embrace, biceps straining under impending absolution, and his throaty cries blast my neck. He lurches to a stop, spurting his seed into my ass with a series of grunts and groans—as if the act is as painful for him as it is for me.

  “God, princess. You drive me insane. I’ll never let you go.” It’s the closest thing to a vow, reassurance granted during a heightened moment of raw tenderness.

  I wish I knew, without a cloud of doubt hanging over my head, that he meant every word.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The days following the wedding are subdued, the sky dreary as it fights off foul weather. Sebastian and I began our time in this tower separated by a chasm of our own making, letting anger, pride, and insecurities steal five precious days.

  Now we’re about to end the month on opposite sides of that same gaping void, more precious time lost, and I can’t stand it. I’m miserable, and I think he is, too. We promised we wouldn’t allow pride to impede our time together, but on the eve of my transition into the House of Virgo, I’m sick to my stomach from missing him.

  I tiptoe from my bedroom to his, sleepwear abandoned on the floor, and crawl between his sheets. He doesn’t hesitate, drawing my naked body against his. A sigh stirs my hair.

  “We promised we wouldn’t do this again,” I say, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

  “Do what?”

  “Let our stubborn prides get in the way.”

  “I know, but maybe we both needed to cool down.”

  I want to press him about Lilith, but doing so will start the vicious cycle again, and we’ll go round and round on a not-so-thrilling ride of jealousy. I don’t want to leave tomorrow with tension between us. Taking the coward’s way out, I shelve the two elephants crowding our relationship and reach for his cock.

  In the darkness, I sense the weight of his stare on me as I stroke him. But he doesn’t move, even though he’s as hard as steel, blood and desire pumping through his shaft. A bead of moisture collects at the head, and I drag my thumb through it.

  “I want you inside me, not because you’re angry, but because you need it as much as I do.”

  He rolls me to my side and spoons me, fitting his groin against my ass as he reaches for the lube on the nightstand. There’s no foreplay or taking it slow. He pushes his slick cock into me, muscled arms holding me tight as he thrusts. The coupling is more about connection than pleasure. Affirmation over physical release.

  Tears bathe my cheeks as he slows the pace, one hand on my breast and the other gripping my thigh, pulling me into him as he plunges deeper.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispers, lips a gentle brush against my shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter how long it takes, or how many beds you have to visit, I’ll be here waiting.”

  I close my eyes and concentrate on him moving inside me, his presence enveloping me in sensual promise. He owns my heart so completely that there isn’t room for anyone else. I never want to leave these arms, never want to separate from the unique way we fit together, like a lock that only opens for the right key.

  He launches me into orgasm before chasing his own, and afterward, we remain connected, two souls entwined and dozing through the night.

  But morning dawns too soon, and a summer storm wins out, tormenting the sky with melancholy gray to match my mood. Rain beats against the windows in his bedroom, drops squiggling down the glass and obscuring the view. I know he’s awake beside me, lost in thought as I am. Neither of us slept much last night.

 

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