“Our parents are a drag. Why don’t you show me your garden instead?” he asked.
“Of course,” I told him before leaning into the library. “Devon has an interest in seeing the gardens. Is it okay if I show him?” I asked for show more than anything.
“I don’t mind. Do you, Rokul?” my father asked.
“Of course not. Have fun you two,” Henry added.
“Come with me, Devon,” I smiled sweetly, taking his arm once more.
As much as I was attracted to Devon, I knew my father would kill me if I was anything but what he thought a lady should be and I had already made plans to keep my cool with him. Not to mention I wasn’t exactly in the mood after the day I’d had.
It was also kind of nice for a guy to pay attention to me because he was just polite, no ulterior motive. I wasn’t used to it.
The gardens were a garish feature of our home and had been since I was small, but my mother loved them with their winding boxwood geometric designs, so they stayed and were impeccably kept up.
“It’s very beautiful here,” Devon chimed in after a quiet turn around the main garden.
“Mmm, yes,” I agreed politely.
“Not as beautiful as you though.”
Gag.
“Thank you,” I told him, trying my damnedest not to burst into tears laughing.
We rounded the boxwoods and entered the garden maze.
“Perhaps we should return to the house...” I started before Devon shoved me into the prickly bush maze behind me.
“Or we could just stay here,” he roughly bit out, kissing me so harshly I wasn’t able to speak.
I shoved him off me. “What the hell, Devon?”
“Oh, come on. You know you want to,” he continued, handling me as if I hadn’t just thrown him off.
“Excuse me?” I said, shoving him back again, but he only came back twofold.
“Please, Sophie. I know you’re reputation, and you could do a lot worse than me.”
My chin dropped to my chest. The gall. I purposely fixed my gaze.
“You’re right, but we can’t do it here so close to the maze entrance, someone might hear.”
He backed off me for a moment. “Lead the way, Miss Price.”
“Follow me,” I flirted over my shoulder. “This way.”
I led him through the winding maze and purposely toward a dead end but near a bench so I could enjoy the show. “No one will find us here,” I told him. I grabbed the front of his jacket and settled him in front of me as I sat myself on the bench, reclining on one arm. “Go ahead.”
“Wh-what should I do?”
“Undress, of course,” I playfully teased.
“You’re a kinky bitch.”
What a lovely compliment. “You know it.”
I watched Devon shed each expensive layer of clothing until there was nothing left but the moonlight on his skin. He smiled devilishly at me. I won’t go into how ironic his name suddenly became to me.
“Here I am,” he said, spreading his arms wide.
I stood slowly and walked seductively his direction. I bent slightly to retrieve his tie from the pile and sauntered around him. I placed the tie around his eyes and began to tie a knot.
“Wait, what are you doing?” he asked.
“Just a little game I like to play,” I sang into his ear before kissing his neck. This visibly relaxed him. “Now, I want you to count to ten then come find me,” I hurriedly said while gathering all his belongings down to his shoes.
“Wait, I don’t think...”
“Don’t think. Feel,” I teased.
He grabbed for me blindly and I sidestepped him, making a beeline for the exit of the maze I’d used to visit every day as a little girl. It’s where I used to hide from my nannies. What a fool. I made my way from the maze and finally let myself smile genuinely for the first time that night. I threw his clothing in the fountain in the center of the boxwoods and turned around when I heard Devon call out my name. He was quicker finding his way out than I’d anticipated.
“What are you doing!” he grated as I tossed in the last shoe.
“Oops.”
“You bitch!”
I climbed my way up the gravel walk and into the house not bothering to look behind me. I continued up to my room determined not to think of the consequences of what I’d done.
“Nobody messes with Sophie Price,” I said out loud. “I don’t care who you are.”
CHAPTER THREE
My father burst into my room without knocking. I attempted to hide my shock at seeing him on my side of the house.
“What the hell happened tonight?” he demanded.
My mother came into the room and silently stood beside my father.
“Nothing,” I said, leaning over my vanity, removing my makeup.
My father met me at my chair and swung me harshly by the arm away from my task.
“I have put up with a lot from you, Sophie.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised at my own words. “The last time I checked neither you nor my mother bothered to endure anything to do with me unless absolutely necessary or if it was a publicity risk. I was raised by strangers. You have not put up with anything from me save for the occasional call to your attorney. So you can spare me the lecture. You missed the opportunity to be my father a very long time ago.”
He slapped me across the face and I stumbled back into my vanity chair, stunned silent. My hand went to my cheek and held there.
“You spoiled, selfish little whore,” he told me through gritted teeth. “I pay for your life and all I’ve asked in return were a very few things. Stay out of the limelight and support the image we are a healthy family in company. But apparently even that was too much to ask. You’ve done irreparable damage this time, Sophie, and there’s only one thing I can think to do with you.”
He whipped his cell from his jacket’s inside pocket, dialed and held the phone to his ear.
“Pembrook? Sorry to wake you. Yes, as we’ve discussed,” he said and hung up.
My parents left my room abruptly and shut the door behind them. My hand trembled from my cheek and fell into my lap. I tried not to think what the subject of conversation had been, tried not to take my dad’s accusation that I was a whore to heart, regardless how true it was, tried not to think too much into the fact that my mother let him accuse me without so much as a peep from his side.
I stood and slinked out of my Chanel, letting the garment fall into a heap at my feet. I slept in my underwear and bra, uncaring of anything around me. It’s easier to pretend. So much easier.
In the morning, I showered and forewent breakfast, something I did often as I rarely ate. A girl has to keep her figure. I’d planned on visiting Sav, to get away from my tension-filled home, but when I approached the carriage house, my SLS was gone.
“What the hell?” I asked no one. I searched the entire garage, but it was nowhere. Ah, I see. He thinks to punish me.
I took out my cell and rang Sav, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Fine, you don’t feel like answering, you piggish trout?”
I dialed Spencer and he picked up the first ring.
“La fée?”
“What are you doing right now, love?”
“I’m taking you out, I hope?”
“You’ve read my mind,” I flirted back. “Pick me up at my place in, say, an hour?”
“Right.”
I hung up and went straight to my room to pack a bag. I wouldn’t need much. I planned on spending most of my time warm in Spencer’s bed.
Spencer was right on time just as I expected as no one kept me waiting, ever. On my way out the door, Sav rang me.
“Sav,” I spit out.
“I’m so sorry, Sophie. I—”
“Save it, Sav. I’ve no need of you. Goodbye.”
I hung up.
Spencer leaned casually against the passenger side door and looked incredible. Just under six foot. Spencer’s wardrobe spoke trust fund but his face screamed of how handsomely rugged he was, not at all babied-looking and I appreciated that about him. His face would be screaming something else within the hour if I had anything to do with it.
I’d just hit the last of the steps when he lifted his finely sculpted body and sauntered my direction.
“Hello, beautiful,” he whispered into my ear when I reached him. He yanked me by the waist toward him and lightly kissed my ear. “I was wondering when it would be my turn.”
My stomach clenched at the memory of my father’s words, but I stuffed them back down.
“Seems you were a fine wine, Spence. You only needed aging.”
He grabbed my bag and opened the door for me. I settled inside, wrapping my seat belt around myself just as Spencer joined me after placing my bag in the trunk.
“I have to crash for a few days,” I told him, examining myself in the vanity mirror.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he said, smiling at me.
His teeth were white and perfectly straight. He was equally as flawless as I was.
He started the engine and it purred like a kitten, but I’d heard Aston Martins did that.
“Why?” he asked.
“Well, after Sav’s party—,” I said, but there was no need to finish.
“Ah, well, I might have a few things in mind to pass the time,” he flirted. “I was going to meet Brent for lunch, but I can reschedule if you don’t feel like it.”
I definitely didn’t feel like it. Anyone else and I would have agreed.
“No, Spencer. We’ll be too busy to lunch with Brent,” I teased.
Spencer’s home was modern in architecture but equally palatial to my parents’. The entire home seemed to consist of nothing but windows and never-ending levels. I almost felt sorry for his staff, almost.
We parked in his space and he killed the engine. He leaned over and placed his hand high on my thigh. A rush trilled through me at how hot his hand was. “Good news. My parents left this morning for Africa on holiday.”
I rolled my eyes. “How cliché.”
“Tell me about it.”
He got out of the car and came over to my side, opening the door for me. He kissed me suddenly and my stomach dropped in hesitation for a moment like it always does but as always, I worked through it and put up my barrier. The same barrier that allowed me to what I did with all the boys.
He broke the kiss and grabbed my hand then retrieved my bag. “Who goes to Africa anymore?” I asked him as we ascended the steep and sharply staired walkway.
“My parents?”
We both laughed.
“I gave the staff the day off today,” he mentioned absently when we reached the top, dropping my hand and bag to fish his keys from his pocket.
When the door opened he threw my bag over the threshold. He kissed me on the doorstep and we went toppling toward the white plastered exterior of his doorway. We hit the wall hard and my head reverberated slightly from the force. Ow. “Sorry,” he murmured, but continued to kiss me. I worked through the pain and kissed him fiercely in return.
He wrapped one big arm around my waist and lifted me from my feet, continually kissing me. He walked us into the foyer and slammed the door shut with his foot. He began unbuttoning my shirt and tugging it out of my skirt, never breaking contact. He tossed it behind me. My arms felt heavy and my heart felt a mess. It’s not working! Why isn’t this working?
