“Gwen said we should have a full course dinner in the ballroom.” Elise squints against the sun as we walk. “But since I was a young girl, I envisioned open spaces, people mingling, a variation of food stations with guests free to roam and sit where they choose.”
“That sounds nice.” I kick at a pebble as we follow the path that winds along the cliffs.
“The idea’s not too casual?” She waves a hand at our surroundings—the spacious green lawns and open skies, all set to the backdrop of the sea. “Because this is the perfect setting for what I have in mind.”
“Well, it’s not traditional, but it’s your wedding,” I point out.
“Gwen believes a man of Landon’s standing calls for the traditional. Tried and true, she calls it.”
“Who’s Gwen again?”
Elise raises her brows. “Gwendolyn Price. The famous wedding planner?” She slows her steps and shoots me a speculative look. “Are you okay? You seem troubled.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been in such a daze.” I shake my head, forcing my mind back to the here and now. “I haven’t slept well for the past couple of weeks.”
“Is it the doctor? Is he treating you badly?”
“No, surprisingly, he’s excellent company.”
Vance is more kind and attentive than I thought he would be, and I enjoy our dinners since human interaction keeps the loneliness from eating me alive.
“Okay, so it’s not the doctor, but something is definitely bothering you,” she says, her tone urging me to unburden my troubles on her.
But I fear there’s no solution to my problem, because I can’t get a certain lion out of my head…or the leader of this mad tower of men. Despite the many days of busy work in the studio, not to mention the much-needed time spent with Elise, the divide in my heart isn’t getting any narrower.
At my continued silence, she takes my hand and leads me to a bench facing the ocean. “Talk to me, Novalee.”
“It’s not important. You’re in the middle of planning a wedding, and—”
“Not important?” she interrupts, voice incredulous. “Novalee, you’re my queen.”
“I’m a disaster.”
“No.” Empathy pulls at her lips as she squeezes my hand. “You’re the perfect example of strength. You lost your parents at such a young age, were raised by a monster through your teenage years, and you’ve been used and abused ever since you got here. I’m amazed you’re still the queen I’m honored to have served these past few years.”
“It hasn’t all been bad. I had you and Faye.”
The mention of my lifelong friend casts a cloud of melancholy over our conversation, and we fall into a long moment of disquiet.
“Have you heard from her?” I ask past the lump of sorrow in my throat that won’t subside.
“She wrote me once to say she’s doing well.” Elise hesitates, teeth tugging on her bottom lip. “She’s engaged now. I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want to upset you.”
“It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t mention it.” A breeze carries a lock of hair into my eyes, and I brush it away, causing the sunlight to glint on the diamond on my finger.
Elise’s attention stalls on my ring. “Are you upset because of Landon’s plan for you to marry Sebastian?”
I’m overwhelmed, terrified, and excited—all rolled into a ball of heaviness in my gut. But I’m not sure how to put it into words.
“I don’t know how I feel.”
“Do you have feelings for him?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.” I glance at her from the corner of my eye, wishing I could spill everything, but until my brother lets her in on the whole story, I can’t. “I’m not convinced Sebastian wants to marry me.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” She scoots to face me. “I thought they all wanted to win your hand, Landon excluded, of course.”
I return her smile at the mention of her future husband’s name. “Sebastian’s family wants it, but he’s in love with someone else.”
“Who?”
“Landon’s sister.”
Her blue eyes widen. “Landon didn’t tell me that.” A beat passes, and her brows furrow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’ve been busy, and…” I shake my head. “I’m not sure why I didn’t tell you. Sebastian has a history with Lilith, and ever since the night of the ball, I’ve been so confused.”
“What’s got you so mixed up?” she asks softly.
“The problem is I care about Liam, too.”
“That does sound like a dilemma.”
I almost scoff out loud. “I don’t know what to do. Nothing in my life prepared me for the men in that place.” I nod behind us, where the tower rises thirteen stories in the air. “They’re not what I expected, and I didn’t think I’d fall for any of them, let alone two.”
Elise slowly nods. “The Brotherhood comes from less traditional stock—which makes Gwen’s insistence on a traditional wedding ironic.” She laughs, matching action to words. “I don’t always agree with Landon’s decisions, but the way he’s so protective and loyal…I love him even more for it.”
The sheen of adoration in her eyes makes me envious. “Liam possesses both traits, but Sebastian…”
“He’s not protective or loyal?”
“He’s lust and passion, tortured and intense. He commands my attention just by being in the same room.”
“To me, it sounds like something’s there, Novalee.”
“It sounds like insanity. A union with him will never work. We’ll both be miserable.”
“Maybe you should give him a chance next month.”
“You’ve been talking to Landon too much,” I gripe.
“Well, from what he’s told me, you could do worse than Sebastian.”
I’m glad she’s not bringing up Liam as an option, because I’d have to dodge her on the reason Landon doesn’t want me near the chancellor, and I don’t want to lie to my friend.
“Sebastian’s still stuck in the past, so it’s a moot point.”
“His past isn’t here. You are.”
That might be true, but so far, the past has proven to have the worst timing imaginable.
And speaking of time…
“I should get back.” I rise to my feet, noting how the sun sank another notch on its journey toward the horizon, and work still awaits me in my studio before dinner.
We return to the tower and part with a hug before I head down the labyrinth of hallways, the hairs on my nape standing on end when I make my way past the portraits of the Brotherhood’s ancestors, my footsteps light and careful. I’m distracted as I turn the last corner, and that’s when I smack into Sebastian.
Literally.
He grips me by the shoulders to keep me from falling on my butt, his blue eyes turbulent as he scowls at me. “You should watch where you’re going. You never know what could be lurking in these halls.”
The sight of him raises my hackles, and I do what I always do when it comes to him.
I lash out.
“The only thing I’ve found so far are asshole men.”
“Just the type you can’t resist, right?” Smirking, he pushes me back a step, and the shape of his too-kissable mouth makes his intentions clear. He’ll suck the will from my bones the way he’s consuming all the oxygen in the hall. I could duck under his arm and make a run for it, claiming sanctuary in my studio, but instead I push forward and plant a hand in the middle of his broad cotton-clad chest.
“No, Sebastian.” Such a simple command filled with so much conviction and confidence that it surprises us both.
“Princess, you don’t have to tell me no.” He lifts his chin and stares down at me. “You made your choice clear enough at dinner.”
“So did you on the night of the ball, or have you forgotten about Lilith Astor already?”
His bitter laughter fills the hallway, incompatible with the gentle way he grabs my hand and folds his warm fingers around mine. “She isn’t the most forgettable woman.” He pauses, and his voice softens. “Neither are you.”
His words disarm me, wrecking my concentration, and I can’t pull in a full breath when he’s this close, let alone come up with a worthy reply. “Isn’t this breaking the rules?” I nod at our joined hands.
“Probably, but I doubt holding your hand counts as inappropriate behavior.” He smirks again, erasing the hint of tenderness from a moment ago.
“Everything you do is inappropriate.” I wrench my hand free, attempting to slip past him before he realizes how fast my pulse is racing. My shoulder grazes his bicep, and the woodsy clean scent of him storms through my senses. His presence has completely shaken me, and I’m not sure I can hold back from touching him, or pulling his lips down on mine when his nearness radiates such tempting sin.
Just as I think I’ve made my escape, he drags me down the hall and forces me into his art studio. The door slams shut behind us, echoing the promise of too much privacy. I try to snake around his solid body, but he blocks me at every turn.
“Let me out of here.”
“Not until we talk.” Stalking me and eating up every inch of space, he shoves me into a chair and leans over, his artist hands gripping the arms.
If he didn’t have me trapped, stealing my will to fight him, his brilliant yet arrogant stare would be enough to pin me to the spot. My breasts rise and fall too fast, and no matter how hard I wish it away, a Sebastian-induced flush creeps up my neck.
“Then talk,” I say through gritted teeth.
Dangerous move, because his arctic gaze lowers to my mouth. I can’t help but lick my lips, though I’m not sure if I do it to provoke him, or because it’s an instinctual response to the longing in his expression.
“Stop distracting me,” he growls.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His mouth parts, and the internal struggle I sense in him—strong enough to ignite the surrounding air—shoots straight to my sex. I think about pressing my thighs together, but he wedges a knee between them, as if he knows my next move before I do.
“I bet you’re turned on right now.” He lowers his head, almost touching his lips to mine. “Are you, Novalee? Hot and wet and throbbing with need?”
Boldly returning his stare, I refuse to back down. “Does the thought make your cock hard?”
“When it comes to you, my cock’s always hard.” Balancing his knee on the cushion, he palms my cheek and rubs his thumb across my mouth. This is definitely against the rules, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“Sebastian.” His name is a prayer on my lips, a plea for the ache in my chest to disappear. He teases my tongue with the pad of his thumb, and it’s a warm and salty temptation I don’t want to give in to, but he has a way of breaking me down every time. I suck his thumb into my mouth.
He groans. “Are you trying to get me into trouble?”
I nibble on his flesh before letting his digit slip from my lips. “Why would I do such a thing?”
“So you can marry the chancellor.”
“What if I do want to marry him?” The question’s a challenge. A test. “Does that bother you?”
“Do you seriously have to ask that?”
A laugh springs free at this merry-go-round of twenty questions we’re riding. “You haven’t been forthcoming so far.” I hold his gaze, letting this moment of significance build between us. “Why did you give Vance permission to go after Lilith?”
“He told you?”
“Yes, but I don’t get why you did it. The night of the ball, you said—”
“We both said things.” Standing, he drags a hand through his hair. “I said things I didn’t mean.”
“What didn’t you mean?”
“I implied I had feelings for Lilith.”
“Are you saying you don’t?” I hold my breath, afraid to hear the answer, and yet…hoping for the only answer my heart yearns to hear.
“I have too much history with her not to feel anything, but it’s more in line with hatred than anything else.”
“Why do you hate her?”
“Because she’s a goddess at head games, and I’m her favorite pastime.”
“So you hate her, but you…want her?” Dread steals my vocal cords, causing me to choke on the words. But no matter how upsetting this conversation is, or how much I don’t want to hear about the goddess of head games that broke his heart at some point, I need to know where I stand with him.
And that’s when I’m reminded it goes both ways, and maybe he feels the same way about Liam.
He leans over me again, his muscular arms caging me in, and our eyes lock. “I used to want her,” he murmurs, dipping his head until the corner of his mouth grazes mine. “Then I caught you spying on me in the hall and something just fucking clicked.” He breathes in, a tiny moan rumbling in the back of his throat, then exhales against my neck. A shiver travels down my shoulder. “I know you feel it too, and that’s why I gave Vance what he’s been after for so long.”
“What if she doesn’t want him?”
He snickers. “Lilith always wants what she can’t have. He’s been the ultimate prize on her radar for years.”
The fact that he’s opening up to me, if only the slightest bit, fills my soul with hope. “These last few months…it’s not the first time I felt it,” I confess.
“You’re talking about the day we met.” He pulls back, searching my face. “You were only twelve. So damn innocent.”
“I didn’t understand it at the time, or where your anger was coming from, but you intrigued me, even back then.”
Something dark and painful passes over his features. “I was so fucking angry…Jesus, Novalee. You saw me when no one else did.” Sliding to the floor, he kneels between my feet and rests his head in my lap, hands gripping my hips. The urge to sink my fingers into his hair is almost more than I can stand. I fist my hands at my sides, remaining as still as a rock.
“I still see you, Sebastian.”
We stay like that for I don’t know how long, and eventually, I can’t hold back. With a sigh, I rake my fingers through his thick, disheveled hair, my heart pounding in my chest as his rapid breaths heat the material covering my thigh.
“The way you look at the chancellor brings out the worst in me.”
I swallow hard. “You must not see the way I look at you.”
He tilts his head, sea-blue eyes meeting mine again. “But you chose him.”
“My decision…it’s not what you think.”
He arches a brow in disbelief. “So you’re not in love with him?”
“I care about him, but that’s not why I chose him.”
“What am I supposed to think? Landon wants me to marry you, but the first chance you got, you chose Castle. Why?”
I blink, frustrated with myself and guilty for what I asked Liam to do the night of the dinner. “I can’t tell you.”
He pushes to his feet, tall frame towering in front of me, and I avert my attention from the outline of his cock in those jeans. “I don’t like games, princess. Been playing them all my life, and I’m over it.”
“I’m not playing games.” I advance on him, resting my hands on his shoulders and finding comfort in his strength. “You’ll have to ask Landon why I chose Liam.”
“More secrets?” He grips the back of my neck, tugging me flush with his body as he lowers his head. “When I’m allowed to touch you,” he rasps, his mouth a faint tease on my lips, “I plan to extract every last secret from the flesh of your bones.”
The charge radiating off him shakes me apart, and I tremble in his grasp, hot and needy at the core. I palm his scruffy face, holding to the negligible space between us because if he kisses me now, I won’t be able to stop.
“You need to let me go.”
“I know,” he says, his eyes shuttering with reluctance. He steps back and crosses his arms. “Go, before I do something that’ll fuck any chance I have of marrying you.”
I slip into the hall, and my breath stalls in my lungs as my nerve endings snap and sizzle. There’s no arousing elixir on this earth more powerful than Sebastian Stone.
Especially when he implies that he wants to marry me.