“Well, I hope, for your sake, dear sister, that the man Father’s chosen isn’t some fat, bulbous old fucker,” Jackie said, making the light snack I’d had earlier curdle in my stomach. I felt lightheaded and uneasy. I turned away from her, hating the image that popped into my head. Enjoying what she was doing to me, she continued. “Or maybe he’s bald and mean. Oh dear, what if he beats you? That would just beterrible.” Jackie’s slender arms came around me from behind, and she pressed herself against my back.
The expensive scent of her perfume choked me. I said nothing.
“You want my advice?” she asked.
I looked back at her. Jackie was offering me advice? “Why?” I asked.
Jackie pressed her lips to my ear. “Conquering a man is easy business, little sister,” she whispered. “Even if he’s ugly and old. All you need to do is spread your legs and keep your mouth shut. Don’t tell him about your daydreams, don't tell him about that little college you want to go to and how all you want is to benormal. Pretend to be interested in everything he says or does. Treat him like a king, and don’t complain even if he hurts you.”
My hands curled into fists. No. No way in fucking hell would I just lay back and take it. “I need to figure out how to get out of this,” I said, mostly to myself.
A chuckle rumbled against my spine as Jackie laughed again. Her arms released me, and she pulled away before stepping around to my front. “You won’t,” she said. “It’s already been decided. Just take my advice. It’ll be so much easier for you if you do. The sex is for him, not you. Just stay loyal long enough to give him a son and then you can play around with a man who knows how to truly please a woman."
Her words collided in my mind and the image of some strange man with graying hair and a belly that trembled like jello crawled over me. I tried to keep my breathing even as the thought sent me into a mental tailspin, but it was no use as the fear quickly turned into a physical anxiety attack. Without another word, I jerked away from her and dashed down the hallway, heading straight for my father's office.
Jackie’s laugh followed me as I ran, like the horrifying wail of a banshee. I hurried toward the double wooden doors that marked his office as fast as my legs could carry me. As it came into view, I didn’t think about stopping or knocking, I reached for the handle, turned, and stumbled into the room.
“Dad! We need to talk, I—” I came to an abrupt halt as I realized he wasn’t alone.
My eyes landed on the man looking over his shoulder from where he sat in front of my father’s desk and stayed there, unable to turn away.
Even from where I stood, I could tell that this man was tall. His shoulders were wide—wider than the chair he sat in. When he turned to face me, I felt my mouth go dry. Eyes as piercing and blue as the ocean, with a light stubble coating the lower half of his face that matched the same dirty blond shade of his hair—he appeared distinguished in a way that I was most certainly not. Though he wasn't quite as old as my father, he was older than me. Mid-thirties if I had to hazard a guess. Probably twice my age. There were fine lines around the edges of his eyes—crow’s feet—but the rest of him appeared big and brawny. Like he was a Viking who had somehow fit himself into the suit of a modern man.
In his gaze, was an intense glimmer of heat. It cut through me as I froze in the doorway, my hand still wrapped around the doorknob and my mouth hanging open. When he blinked slowly, cutting me off from that impenetrable gaze only to return a moment later, I realized that there was a steeliness to his attention. A careful amusement that was only surface deep. The man looked at me as if he had seen or done horrible things, pillaged villages and burned houses, and I—I was the thing he'd been searching for all along. It was … disturbing.
“Evangeline.” My father stood from his chair and smiled at me, lifting his arm as he gestured for me to come closer. “Come here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, adjusting my silk blouse slightly and tugging it down against the waistband of my jeans as I stepped further into the room and released the door. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.”
My father chuckled. “Gaven is more than a guest, Angel,” he said.
I frowned. His name was Gaven then. What an innocuous name for a man who’d no doubt done horrible, awful things in his lifetime. I could see it in his eyes. No normal man stared at a woman the way he did unless he was a predator seeking something to eat. I swallowed roughly, nervously.
“Who’s this, Father?” I jumped as Jackie’s voice sounded behind me. I hadn’t realized she’d followed me here.
When I didn’t move toward the desk, Jackie stepped through the open doorway and around me. She strode farther into the room, her eyes locking on the man as he rose from his seat as well, the elegant cut of his suit jacket hanging open. “Oh, you’re a handsome one.” Her voice turned sultry as she approached, and I watched with a spark of something dark in my mind as she touched his arm and batted her lashes up at him. “Are you one of the new guards? Perhaps we should spend some time together later.”
“Enough, Jacquelina,” Dad barked, his expression darkening as irritation took root. “Gaven is not a guard.” A sinking feeling took over. If he was warning Jackie away from a man, that could only mean one thing. Dad turned back to me, the cold expression he had flashed to my sister melting away. “Please, Evangeline, come in. I’d like for you to meet my friend, Gaven Belmonte.”
“Your friend?” I repeated.
With a hefty gulp, I took one single step further into the room. I didn’t trust myself to move any more. Jackie’s hand had yet to leave the man’s arm—not that he seemed to notice. His eyes were zeroed in on me in a way that could only be described as hungry. My back straightened and I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze head-on.
Even as I glared at the man, I spoke to my father. “Dad, I need to speak with you. It's important."
"Yes," Dad replied. "I have something I'd like to say as well, but first, please say hello. You're being rude, Angel."
His tone was gruff, slightly frustrated and confused—as if he couldn't understand my unease, my impoliteness. I had to admit, it wasn't like me. At least not to outsiders. Years of biting back retort after retort and fiery reactions gave me an air of obedience. I didn’t exactly feel like being polite to this man, though.
Something about him put me on edge. Perhaps it was an old memory, something I couldn’t quite recall, but I had a feeling it was something more. A premonition of what was to come. Instead of me being the first to say anything, however, the choice was taken from me by the man—by Gaven’s deep, precise voice. He looked familiar. Strange. I wracked my brain for the information, but he spoke before I could find it.
“Hello, Evangeline,” he said, stepping closer to me, shrugging off Jackie’s arm despite her slight attempts to keep hold. A frown curled her lips, but I wasn’t paying attention to her because it took every ounce of my will to keep from reacting to the depth of his voice. It wasn’t husky like I was used to hearing from my father’s men. It was a smooth, rich baritone that seemed to weave its way through me, nestling next to my erratically beating heart.
"Hello, Mr. Belmonte," I murmured, nodding at him, though I made sure not to move closer. "It's lovely to meet you. I apologize for intruding on your meeting."
"It's no problem at all," Gaven said, smiling my way. "In fact, we were just about to invite you to join us."
Fuck. That could not spell good news. My eyes darted to my father, who stood behind his desk, appearing quite pleased with himself. “Why?" I demanded.
