The Billionaire’s Bride by L. Steele

18

Edward

"Yes," I growl, "it’s a fucking order."

What the hell? What’s wrong with you? Why the hell are you commanding her, knowing it’s going to piss her off? Maybe I want to make her angry? Maybe I want to see her lip’s part, the flush bloom on her cheeks, her green eyes glittering as her chest heaves and she leans forward, to thump her little knuckles on the table...

"What the fuck?" she snarls. "Did you really say what I think you said?"

I allow my lips to curl. "You heard me, babe." I buff my fingernails on my sleeve. "It’s either me or Baron here for you."

"Is that right?" She rises to her feet, "You can’t control me."

Baron raises his head, a slight quirk to his lips. He stares up at her, peruses her face. Oh, yeah, I get the appeal. It’s that sass of hers, the steel in her spine, her feisty sprit that makes me feel alive. It’s the same reason Baron’s so fascinated with her.

I turn to Ava, "Sit down, Eve."

Her cheeks redden and her chest heaves as she draws in a breath, then another. Oh, yeah, she’s certainly found her backbone, the woman who’d been a virgin not so long ago. She’s changed, all right. She’s found the will to resist and I love it, even as a part of me regrets that I tainted her. I spoiled her. If I had left her alone, she’d probably still be the pure, untouched Ava, who would have ultimately given her virginity to someone else—my pulse pounds at my temples and my belly knots—something which I would never tolerate. The thought of her being with anyone else…? I bunch my fists, press them into the table, much like Ava had done earlier. "Sit down, Ava. Now."

She blinks, stares at me, then at Baron, who jerks his chin.

She sinks into her chair. "There." She huffs, "Happy?"

"Not yet." I don’t take my gaze off of her face as the waiter brings the wine. He pours out some for Baron to taste. He nods and the waiter fills our glasses halfway. I raise my glass and shift my gaze to Baron.

He lifts his glass. "To Ava."

I echo his toast, “To Ava.”

She glances between us as a blush steals over her cheeks. She raises her glass, then takes a sip, swirls it around her palate. "It’s good," she takes another sip, "really good."

"Only the best for my woman." Baron smirks at her and she laughs.

"Not your woman yet," she says.

"Oh, you will be." Baron’s grin widens.

"You’re awfully sure of yourself, Mr. Masters." She raises one eyebrow.

"No reason not to be." He shoots me a sideways glance. "No offense."

"None taken," I arch an eyebrow, "though if I were you, I wouldn’t get too confident."

"Hey," she protests, "I am still here, you guys."

Baron opens his mouth to retort, when our food arrives. The server places the food on the table and leaves.

She frowns down at the food, "I think I lost my appetite."

"Eat," I order.

When she firms her lips, Baron, leans forward. "Eat, Ava, before the food gets cold," he coaxes her, and her gaze grows mutinous.

"Ava," I warn, "don’t defy me."

She glances at Baron again, who stares down at her plate then back at her. "Go on, Eve," he cajoles.

She draws in a breath, then reaches for her fork and digs in.

Is she more responsive toward him? Does she place more importance on his words?

I scowl down, push the food around on my plate. Surely, it must be my imagination. Yeah, that’s all it is. I reach for my glass of wine, take a sip, then place it down.

"So, Ava, why belly dancing?"

"Why the priesthood?"

"You first." I set my jaw, and she scowls.

"Why do I always have to give in?"

"Because you’re submissive?"

Her jaw drops, "Of all the asinine—"

"I joined the army because it was the only way to deal with the ghosts of my past," Baron interjects.

Both of us turn to him.

He looks up from his plate, "In hindsight, it was the most cowardly and the most courageous thing that I had ever done."

"Cowardly?" She frowns.

He raises a shoulder "I simply placed all of my problems on the back burner. Only, they were still there when I returned."

"So, what are you going to do about it?" I murmur. "You going to face them head on now?"

He laughs, "What do you think?"

"I think," I reach for the wine and refill his glass, then Ava’s, "you need to get drunk."

"What about you?" Ava asks

"I am the designated driver this evening."

"With your arm in a sling?" She scowls.

I smirk, take off the sling, and stretch my arm, "Surprise."

"Wow," she stares at me, "you’re better?"

"The sling was just a precaution, to curtail movement, which would help the wound to heal faster," I explain, "but I’m definitely feeling better."

"Hmm," she purses her lips, "so you weren’t as badly hurt as I thought."

"I just heal fast," I offer.

"Guess I didn’t really need to ask you to stay with me, huh?"

My neck heats, but I refuse to look away. "You can’t blame a guy for trying." I shrug.

"Edward," she gapes, "really… You actually pretended to be worse off just so you could get into my…"

"Pants?"

"I was going to say bed," she snaps.

"I suppose I should say I am sorry," I quirk my lips, "but I am not."

"Of course, not." She scowls. "Why should you? Doesn’t matter that I was really worried about you, you…ass." She tightens her fingers around the stem of her wine glass, "Seriously, Ed, sometimes I don’t think I recognize you anymore."

"Me neither." I glance away. I should apologize, really, I should, but I only did what was necessary to get a head start over Baron. What’s so wrong with that? I glance at her tense face, then at Baron’s smirking one. Bastard. I glower at him and he shakes his head.

"What should we toast this round?" He raises his glass and turns to her.

"To not lying?" She shoots me a dirty look.

I wince, then smirk back at her. She glances away and at Baron.

"To following your instinct," Baron quirks his lips, before raising his own glass.

"To…" I stare at Ava, "to you."

She tips up her chin, finally meets my gaze, her green eyes bright with defiance, and something else… Excitement? She is enjoying this thrust and parry, the chemistry between the three of us, something which, I admit, has caught me by surprise as well. I take in her flushed features, the pulse that beats at the base of her throat. She bites down on her lower lip and my dick twitches. She flicks out her tongue, licks her lower lip and the blood drains to my groin. This woman... She simply has to look at me and I want to throw her down on the table and take her right here.

Baron clears his throat and the two of us jerk our heads in his direction.

His features are hard as he stares between us. "Please pass the salt," he says in a toneless voice. I hand over the salt shaker and he seasons his food, before placing it aside. "What about you Edward? Do you regret joining the Church?"

"Never," I scoop up some of the fish, close my mouth around the tines of the fork. "It was a phase of my life…which was essential in so many ways. It gave me structure and discipline, helped me ground myself at a time when I needed a direction."

"Do you ever wonder what you would have been if you hadn’t joined the Church?" Ava asks.

"I certainly wouldn’t have been sitting across from you and enjoying a meal with you." I glance back at her. "So no, I don’t regret a single thing I did with my life because all of it has led up to this moment, when I can look in your eyes and tell you just how much you mean to me."

A glass crashes to the floor beside the table. Ava visibly shakes, turns to glance at Baron.

"Oops, sorry," he murmurs, "I am being exceptionally clumsy today."

"Seems you prefer to have the focus of the table on you, ol’ chap," I mutter without looking away from Ava’s gorgeous face.

"You accusing me of being an attention seeker or something?" he replies.

"Or something." I reach for the bottle of wine, empty the rest of its contents into my unused glass. I slide it over to Baron, then hold up the bottle for the waiter, who materializes next to me. "Another bottle, please,"

He vanishes with the empty one just as one of the staff scurries toward the table and sweeps up the glass shards.

"Excuse me," Ava pushes back her chair, "I need to use the restroom." She stands, then stares between us, "Can I hope that the two of you have not killed each other by the time I return?"

I frown. "Oh, come now, Ava. This is just friendly fire."

"Friendly fire?" Her voice rises in exasperation, "Seriously, why do I even bother?" She grabs her purse, then leaves the table.

I can’t stop myself from taking in the sway of her hips, her thick auburn strands flowing behind her as she walks in the direction of the restroom. I glance up to find Baron’s attention as riveted. A growl rips from my chest.

"What?" He frowns. "You’re not the only one enamored with her, you know."

"Doesn’t make this any easier to stomach." I scowl back.

"If we can’t get through a meal together, how the hell are we going to make it through the next few weeks…maybe months?"

"Months?" I pale.

"You don’t think this is going to get sorted out that quickly, do you?"

"It’s only the question of all our lives." I grimace. "But months… I won’t last. Seriously, when I am in the same space as her… All I can think of is…." I squeeze my eyes shut, take a breath, another, "It kills me to have you look at her." I finally manage, "I want to tear your eyes out, then beat you up, tie you up, and throw you into the Thames. That’s after I’ve handed your balls to you, of course."

Baron winces. "Ouch, man. Spare the balls, at least. Not that I haven’t had the same thoughts about you."

"How the hell are we going to manage this?" I grumble. The waiter arrives with a bottle of wine. "Thanks," I mutter, then indicate he can leave when he hovers at my elbow. Wish I was getting drunk as well.

"This is going to end badly." Baron takes a sip of his wine.

"It’s not going to end well," I agree.

"This no sex thing is going to kill me." He slides a finger under the collar of his starched collar.

"It bloody sucks." I scowl. "I can’t decide what’s worse: that she’s not sleeping with me, or that she’s not sleeping with you either."

"I’d have said it’s a relief that she’s definitely not having sex with you… But hell, if it isn’t a bummer that I can’t get some either." He rubs his chin.

We glance at each other, and a chuckle breaks out from me. He smirks back. We both burst out laughing.

"Fuck," he rubs the back of his neck, "how did we get here again?"

"Afraid this one is my mess." I roll my shoulders. "If I hadn’t picked up the phone and called you—"

"Which I am glad you did."

I stare. "You are?"

"Bet the rest of the Seven are pissed that you didn’t reach out to them." His lips quirk

"Bet they are—" I chuckle.

"But seriously," he glances at the wine, "and maybe this is the wine talking... In fact, I am sure it is the wine talking..." He takes another sip. "You called at the right time."

"I did?"

"I guess I was waiting for an excuse to come back." He raises his shoulders. "I was tired of running."

"I was tired of…" Not feeling? Not letting myself think too deeply? Just having an existence which barely scratched the surface? Not facing my fears? My need to live life using all my senses? Not wanting to hide anymore? I take another sip of the water, "I was just tired…"

"You took the brunt of what happened during the incident." Baron’s features harden. "If there was any way I could thank you for what you did…"

"You can leave her."

He starts, then laughs out loud. "You don’t mean it."

"Don’t I?"

"All these years and you choose now to call in that favor?"

"You asked."

"Doesn’t mean I am going to give you what you want." His throat moves as he swallows. "Besides, she is not a thing…that we can pass around between each other. She deserves a chance to make up her own mind."

"With some help from us."

"I knew you had changed Edward," his jaw tics, "I just hadn’t realized how much."

"And you, Baron." I tilt my head, "You haven’t changed at all. You’re still every bit as self-righteous, as focused on the straight and narrow as you were when you joined the army."

"Unlike you." He glares back. "You joined the priesthood to cover up just how twisted you really are inside."

"That’s right." I bare my teeth. "And don’t you forget it, you—"

Baron's phone buzzes. He pulls it out of my pocket, glances at the screen, then holds it to his ear, "Ava? Are you—"

The blood drains from his face.

"Who is it?" I snap.

He springs to his feet and so do I, "Baron, who the fuck was that?"

He shoves back his chair, runs toward the door, and I follow him, "It’s Ava, isn’t it?" I pant, "Is she—"

"They got to her."

I race after him toward the doors leading to the restrooms.