Andrew closes his eyes and tries to remember what happened at the church. He sees Leilani looking pale and lovely in a white dress, and then it all floods back. Waylen’s objection, Leilani shooting him in the leg, and then the blinding white light of the explosion.
“Give me my phone,” he rasps.
Jamie passes him the phone, and Andrew squints against the bright light from the screen. When his eyes adjust, he reads a text message from Jessica: “Andrew, if you won’t tell me where James is, I’ll go and find him myself.”
Andrew closes his eyes. Before he took Leilani to the church, he sent James with his father to Monaco. His father was supposed to meet Francis Bamford and then come directly back.
“Sir, Miss Jessica is on her own,” Jamie says. “Should I send someone to bring here.”
“No,” Andrew says. “Being on her own might do her good. Besides, we have bigger problems.”
His handshakes as he dials a number on the phone, and he lifts it to his ear. In his weakened state, the light phone seems to weigh a ton. It rings, and then a gruff voice asks, “Yes?”
“Mr. Bamford, you didn’t keep your promise,” Andrew says. “How are you going to compensate me for my losses?”
There’s a deep sigh, and then Francis asks, “What do you want?”
“I only want her,” Andrew says.
Lightning flashes across the dark sky, and phantom eyes wink at Leilani. A dark, bloody mouth appears below the eyes, twisting into an evil smirk. Leilani backs away, but Andrew is too fast. He pulls himself out of the ruins and limps toward her. As he walks, he keeps one hand over his thigh, but the blood seeps between his fingers. She turns her back to run, and his bloodstained hand closes on her wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going, honey?” he asks. “You can’t leave me—you’re going to be my wife.”
“Let me go,” she screams. “Let me go!”
She tries to pull away from him, but his grip is iron-hard on her wrist. He starts to drag her back toward the ruined church, pulling her over piles of bricks and stained glass. She kicks her legs and flails her arms, but she can’t get away from him.
“No,” she screams.
Her eyes fly open—she’s in Waylen’s darkened bedroom. His hand is tight around her wrist, and it takes her a moment to realize she’s squirming and kicking. She blinks her eyes and tries to take a deep breath. It was just a dream, and she thinks—just a dream.
“That’s some nightmare you were having,” Waylen says, his voice dry and amused. “You were kicking and fighting. I tried to hold you down, but you only got fiercer.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Did I kick you?”
“Quite hard,” Waylen says. “And in a susceptible area too.”
Leilani can’t help the laugh that escapes her lips.
“Don’t laugh at my pain,” Waylen says.
He shifts himself in the bed and hovers over her, slowly pressing his body against hers. She blinks, and he leans in to claim her mouth. His lips are violent against hers, and she can feel his erection pressing into her hip.
She pulls away from the kiss and says, “Clearly, you’re not really hurt.”
“Oh, but I am,” he whispers, trying to kiss her lips again. “How do you want to make it up to me?”
“Maybe I can fondle it,” she whispers, reaching under him and brushing her fingers against the front of his pajama pants.
“Oh yeah?” he asks, bending down to kiss her again.
When she wakes in the morning, her lips feel swollen and bruised. Her head is pillowed on Waylen’s warm chest, and her leg is wrapped across his body. His arm tightens around her in his sleep. She can feel his morning erection stir against her bare thigh, and she tries to pull away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks sleepily.
“It’s morning, and I have some things to take care of,” she says, untangling herself from him.
He props himself up on his elbow and asks, “What things? I thought you were going to work with me today.”
“Why would you think that?” she asks. “Why on Earth would I go to work with you?”
“Because I want you to,” he answers.
“Well, that’s just too bad,” she says. “Because I don’t want to go.”
She gets out of bed and starts to pick up the clothing scattered across the floor. She takes the silk slip, her underwear, and pajamas and heads toward the bathroom. Waylen launches himself out of bed and follows her into the bathroom. He leans against the door and watches her as she turns the water on for a shower.
“So, where are you going instead?” he asks.
She feels a blush creep into her cheeks and says, “Well, there’s the matter of the cufflinks. I guess the order was never canceled, and the production department at D.O. called me to say they’re finished. I’m supposed to come to get them.”
Waylen’s eyes turn stormy, and he asks, “And what are you doing to do with them?”
“I wasn’t sure,” she admits. “I doubt Rebecca still wants them, so I guess I’ll give them to you.”
“Throw them out,” he snaps.
“Well, if you don’t want them, I guess I’ll give them to her,” Leilani says. “I’m not going to waste such good materials like that. And I suppose the rose quartz stones are hers anyway—maybe she wants them back.”
“How can you talk about this so calmly?” he asks. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
She shrugs and says, “Well, business is business. And I’m proud of the design.”
“You’re such a cold woman,” Waylen complains.
She grabs the shower head and directs a blast of water at him. The fine mist sprays his face and clings to his hair like dew drops. His eyes flash, and he lunges forward, throwing her across his shoulder and swatting playfully at her bare bottom.
He carries her into the shower and slides her down, so her back is against the glass wall. She wraps her legs around his waist, and his mouth slips down to tease and suckle at her b.r.e.a.s.t. She m.o.a.ns and arches her back, and he enters her in a swift motion.
Leilani sits across the table from Waylen, pushing her scrambled eggs around her plate. She watches him as he takes a sip of his coffee and smiles to herself. Sun pours in from the window behind him, making his skin glow. He catches her looking at him and his mouth twitches with amus.e.m.e.nt. She smiles in return, and his smile grows bigger—his eyes crinkle, and he reaches across the table to stroke the back of her hand.
“Why do you keep smiling at me like that?” she asks. “You look like a smitten fool.”
Her tone is light and teasing, and he rolls his eyes at her. She’s never seen him smile so much, and she has to admit it makes him even more handsome. His eyes seem to sparkle, and she wants nothing more than to keep that look on his face.
“I’m smiling at you because you make me happy,” he says simply.
“You’ve changed, Waylen,” she says.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
Leave a Reply