Kain stared—then he bent over, cracking up.
Still laughing, he smoothed some of his hair. In spite of the helmet, the rich, mahogany strands were still styled. His bike rolled forward, his hand clicking something he slid from his pocket. In a grand gesture that was free of rusty squeaks, the gates spread open in front of us.
“This,” Kain said, gesturing, “is where I live, darlin’.”
Gazing at the tiled stretch of driveway in front of me, the green gardens, and the sprawling estate in all its glory . . . I had a single thought:
Look on the bright side, you aren’t late for the meeting.
Kain rode ahead of me, his bike purring with his low speed. I followed, marveling at the gorgeous landscape that could have been cut from an oil painting. The rose garden was a galaxy of pinks and reds, made brighter by the white of the mansion.
Beyond the grassy field, I spotted a few structures. Squinting at them, my heart started to race. Were those stables? Did they have horses here?
Pushing my sunglasses back onto my nose, so I wouldn’t look like a tourist, I set my mouth in a serious line. Francesca was rich, this whole family was rich. That was why they could throw twenty grand at me to rush a wedding dress.
Understanding the situation I was in, I started to twitch. This wasn’t just intimidating, this was exciting. Maybe I could get a tour of the estate before this was over with.
Kain parked his motorcycle in the corner of the driveway, where the giant spiral of stones reached its biggest curve. I stopped near him, unsure where else to go. In the long silence of the death of my engine, I filled my chest with air. It’s go time.
Grabbing the dress, I pushed my door open and stepped out.
Right into Kain’s chest.
“Ah!” I gasped, bouncing back into the hard blockade of my car. He didn’t move an inch, not in body or his ever-present smirk. The air around us was crafted from the heavy scent of his leather jacket and the musky pine that was just naturally him.
Kain leveled his wild eyes on me. I’d never felt so judged. Did I pass, did I fail? Did I care? Chuckling, he leaned sideways as if he had all the time in the world to loiter here. “You didn’t expect this, did you?”
“This?” Waving around at the estate, I shrugged. “How could I?”
His full lips slid closer to mine. “Then you really had no clue who I was when we met. I should have guessed you weren’t from around here.” His attention bounced to my sunglasses.
I’d thought of them as protection; now they felt like an anchor. Bristling, I took them off, dropping them through the crack in my window. “For the record, I am from here. Born and raised, thank you very much.”
He revealed the whites of his eyes. That was the first thing I’d said that had surprised him. Shocking a man like Kain felt good. It didn’t last long, he stole my confidence with a casual trace of his finger down my shoulder.
“Then you should’ve known what you were walking into, sweetheart.”
It was a threat . . . it was a warning. Not appreciating either, I smacked his hand away and sidestepped him. “Back off, I’ve got business to get to.”
Fingers coiled around my wrist, twirling me like a dancer. Thick pieces of my ponytail blinded me, my heart swinging up and out. Vertigo replaced every other sense.
When I came back down to earth, Kain was holding me in his arms.
It was a low back bend, my weight supported by him, my hair tickling the grass. His face was made from shadow, his smile no longer teasing me. This was the mouth of a hungry man, and I felt like the morsel he wanted to devour.
We stayed like that for far too long. Long enough that I realized it was my fault we were still tangled together. Deep in the black-and-blue depths of his eyes, I watched Kain’s humor shift ever further.
Before, he’d wanted to play with me. It had been a game with no stakes.
But now . . . everything in his body, his breath, screamed, I want to have you.
And I wasn’t ready for that.
Pulling away, I tumbled to the ground. I grunted, but the brief pain was good; it jostled my senses back into place. Grabbing the wedding dress tighter, I stood, dusting grass from my jeans.
I was about to whirl on him and tell him off. The way he straightened, seeming genuinely unsure of himself, stopped me. Kain blinked, then he scratched the back of his neck and turned away. “I better put my bike in the garage before someone else tries and fucks it up. Go inside, my sister is waiting for you.”
He strutted away from me, moving with a swimmer’s grace in the body of a warrior. It was easy to forget how tall he was. Whenever he got close, he always made sure to bend down so we were nearly touching noses.
My heart hadn’t calmed down; I clutched at my shirt, lost in a tornado of emotion. What the hell had just happened? What was that?
There was a noise behind me. Glancing back, I saw the large doors of the mansion opening. Francesca ran my way, her arms wide. She was going to knock me over, my muscles were already weak from Kain’s assault.
Throwing up my hands, I waved the dress like a flag. “Careful!” I cautioned. “I spent all night on this!”
Pulling up short, she looked appalled. Then she started bouncing, hands clasped to her full and animated chest. “Aah! It’s here! You’re here! I can’t wait to put it on!”
Francesca’s energy helped dissolve the last of the lingering unease brought on by Kain’s body pressing against mine. Swallowing around my dry tongue, I cleared my throat. I had to be on, this was my show—and the bride’s, of course. “You’re going to love it. Just ask my hands.”
I meant to make her laugh, except instead, she darted her attention to the Band-Aids still wrapped on my fingertips. “Oh, shit! Hon, did you bust yourself up just for me?” Catching my wrists just as easily as her brother had, Francesca frowned.
“It’s fine!” I made my voice lighter. “Really, focus on what matters—how great you’re going to look.”
Half a second later, she was beaming. “Gawd, I can’t wait. Let’s go inside so I can see.”
I’d never been inside of a mansion before. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. It made you feel small, and scared, and itchy with curiosity.
The ceiling stretched so high they surely could have ridden a giraffe inside. Maybe several. My heels tapped on smooth-as-glass tiles, black with smoky gray weaving through it all. Two staircases curled upward, the white walls decorated with modern art and paintings of—probably—members of the family.