Chapter 5
Callie
No way. His large bulge can’t be real. A tailor must’ve sewn an extra appendage inside his leggings so as to please my mother. If Patten Securities did their research, they must know she so loves her codpieces.
Oh shit. The object of my attention swells, my face heats, and I shoot my gaze upward. Brown irises disappear behind huge black centers and a tongue flicks over his lower lip. One brow lifts, he hisses, and gives a small nod.
What the hell is he agreeing to? How does he know my panties are damp? It’s going to be a very long evening because I can’t give into what we both so obviously want. Tonight, is my mother’s dog and pony show. If I want my tuition paid, I have to toe the line.
Besides, I don’t sleep with men like him. Hell, I’ve never met anyone remotely similar. I’m surrounded by educators, academics, and geeks. The only male muscles I’ve ever seen were at my gym and somehow, I can’t picture him on a treadmill.
When he inches closer, my hand shakes, and I can’t get the wire loop through my earlobe. Do not focus on his giant cock, inches from my face. I lift my gaze away, past his doublet to the beard dusting his chin and to thick sexy lips.
None of this is working.
“See something you like?” He chuckles, full attention on my cleavage.
Suddenly, his face gets serious, he adjusts some miniature plastic thingy in his ear, and lowers his chin to his chest.
“Yeah, Gray? Copy that. We’re heading downstairs.”
He lifts me to standing and points to my earrings. “I assume you got them secured? No standing by mirrors?”
“’Yeah, they’re fine.” I tug on them as proof, “So are you.”
Oh my God. Did I just say that out loud? My cheeks heat at my boldness. Obviously, I need to get out more.
“Work now, luv, play later.” Grinning again, he gives a wink.
Then, we both glance up at the doorway where Pat clears his throat. “Your mother says it’s time.”
I glance in the mirror one more time and my fingertips rest on solid muscle as I take Sir James’ offered arm.My God, is he that hard all over?
“Luv, you look a little pale. Should I loosen your corset?” His brows raise and for a moment, I think he’s serious.
“I-I’m fine. I just hate these parties.” I give him a small smile as Pat leads the way down the long hall.
When we pause on the stairs, the string quartet stops, and everyone goes quiet. I try to picture this home as it was in the late seventeen-hundreds, the grandeur my mother is trying to recreate. This is her finest moment all year when the wealthiest of New England gather in her home, giving her self-worth andraison d’être.
She claps and the caterers join in, along with about a hundred guests. Everyone is applauding except Grayson Patten III muttering into his chest.
Lochlan’s interest has moved to the bar where Gerard stands with his glass raised to me. My childhood friend wears a wrinkled tux, the bowtie loosened. It could be my nerves but the gesture seems angry, the smile overly polite.
All-too-familiar guilt slams into me. How was I to know that one night of comfort sex would ruin everything between us?
The forearm tenses under my fingers and I gasp as Sir James’ dark eyes narrow. His gaze darts about the room, his jaw ticks, and his mouth grows grim.
When the string quartet starts Mozart’s No. 14, I squeeze the rock-hard muscles and announce, “That’s our cue. You ready?”
“Just a moment.” His left hand gently pinches my chin as he moves my head from right to left. When I feel both earrings bounce, he nods. “Let’s do it.”
At the bottom of the stairs, my mother rushes to our side smiling at everyone. However, when she gets close to us, she hisses her displeasure at Sir James. “That is not the costume you were paid to wear. I will bring it up with your employer.”
“Please do. He’s standing right there.” My bodyguard’s no-nonsense tone is pure steel.
Pale, my mother bustles away, and I let go the breath I was holding. No one has ever spoken to her like that.
I have to palm his cheek to get his attention and when he turns, my hand freezes,
