Chapter 12

"What the hell was I thinking?" He growled, glaring furiously at his reflection in the mirror and the mess he had made of the bowtie.

"Let me—" Brushing his hands away, she efficiently tied the silky material into a neat bow, her eyes on the task, a tiny frown of concentration on her forehead. Harvey felt his frustrations and misgivings dissolving as he stared at the exquisite face. He had made love to her in the shower, which had delayed them getting ready even more.

"What?" she asked, lifting her head and meeting his eyes.

"Why do I get the feeling you have done this before?" he asked teasingly, causing her heart to jolt. She was not used to him being this way—not used to this teasing and indulgent Harvey—and realized that she was falling for him more and more each day.

"My dad. He always made a mess of doing it, and his mom was hopeless. So, he would come to me. There." She flattened her palm over the lapels of his immaculate jacket and could not help but admire how he looked in a tux.

The jacket stretched over his broad shoulders and clung to his muscled chest. His thick dark hair was brushed severely from his face and secured in a tidy bun at the nape of his neck. He was so handsome that she felt her heart swelling with pride that she would be on his arm tonight.

"Something on my face?" He asked her mildly. Last night, he grudgingly agreed to accompany her to the function for selfish reasons.

The idea of her going there with Silas was unthinkable, and he could not very well sit home twiddling his thumbs and having agonizing images of her dancing with some other guys, certainly not the way she looked in the very scandalous ruby red gown she had on.

"Just admiring you." She told him with a whimsical smile. "You look perfect in a tux."

"Don't get used to it." He warned. "They are called monkey suits for an excellent reason."

"They are called tuxes, and you look very dapper." She told him firmly as she turned to get her jacket.

"I think I am going to be the envy of every fellow at this ball." His deep voice had her turn back to him, and what she saw on his face kept her going.

"Harvey."

"Stop looking at me like that." He said gruffly. "Unless you want to be further delayed. I would much prefer you on that bed with me on top of you."

"Later," She promised huskily.

"I am holding you to that."

*****

"Continue to look at me in that way, and I am almost certain to wipe that damn smile off your face."

"I see the suit has not improved your disposition." Silas was waiting for them to descend the stairs together, looking handsome in a dark blue tux. He glanced at Kendra with a smile. "However, you managed to get him to wear a tux and attend the function; I applaud you."

"He was not hard to persuade." She cast an impish look at her husband. "He came to the decision all by himself."

"I highly doubt that."

"I am right here," Harvey growled as he carefully descended the stairs with her hand on his arm.

"We know." Silas rejoined with a grin as he went ahead of them.

"Please don't start," Harvey told his parents, who were waiting for them in the drawing room. Julia looked resplendent in a gorgeous, pleated midnight blue silk dress, her thick blonde hair swept up in an intricate coif. A lace mask dangled from her fingers. Gregory was wearing an ash-gray suit and looking very dashing.

"I will not say much, except my three men look quite handsome." She beamed at Julia and gave her a nod of approval. "My dear, how lovely you look!"

"Thank you." Kendra smiled at them and took the mask Gregory handed her. "I am looking forward to the evening."

*****

And she had fun. The minute she stepped inside the impressive ballroom of the Royal Palace Hotel, it was apparent she belonged there. The room had been decorated with hundreds of sconces, reflecting the theme of the early eighteenth century.

The wives of the Elite Club members had done much planning, with Leesa and Kelly at the helm of the planning committee.

The women wore dazzling gowns that splashed color against the water-green silk wallpaper, and the floor had been cleared for dancing. She was introduced to the wives and made to feel welcome. Within minutes, she was drawn into discussions about her store and what charities she would like to participate in.

Standing in the corner of the room with his brother, his dad, and several others, Harvey sipped champagne and watched her from across the room. The mask fitted over her eyes, giving her small face an alluring, utterly beguiling look.

The form-fitting dress she was wearing left her shoulders and back bare. And he was not the only one staring at her in admiration. More than a few men were casting appreciative looks at her and stirring up violent thoughts inside him.

His reaction to her was startling, and for the first time in his life, he felt acute jealousy, enough to suggest they leave the damn ball and go back home where he alone could feast his eyes on her.

"If you keep looking at her like that, people will start talking."

Jerking his attention from his wife, he sent his brother a scowling look. "I don't know what you are going on about."

Silas handed him a fresh glass of the expensive bubbly. "You have not taken your eyes off her since you reluctantly handed her over to the other wives."

"Still don't know what you are talking about," Harvey muttered as he sipped champagne. His fingers tightened on the stem of the glass when someone stepped over and touched her on the arm intimately. "Who the hell is he?"

"Michael Addington, a childhood friend and owner of several high-end restaurants. He just moved back to the neighborhood."

"You seem very well informed."

"He started attending services, and Kendra introduced him. The man seems to be enchanted by her." Silas murmured in amusement as his brother sent a volcanic look over at the couple, who were now a little distant from the group she had been with.

"Has she forgotten she is married?"

"They are just talking, Harv."

"He is touching her." Harvey snapped. The urge to march over and punch the guy's light out was so strong that he had almost physically to restrain himself.

"Like I said, they are friends." Silas pointed out smoothly.

"And when they are at the chapel, where does he sit?"

"Right next to Kendra. They are friends."

"You have said that several times. He is being way too friendly. Now he is dancing with her. He knows she is married, right?"

Silas was enjoying himself immensely. He had never seen his brother so worked up over a woman, and it was amazing to see.

"She told him, and she is also wearing a ring."

"Damn him! I should never have allowed her to wear that blasted dress outside the house; it's practically indecent. And I thought she was a churchgoing girl who is supposed to know better."

"She is a beautiful woman and is coming into herself."

"What the hell does that mean?" he turned his biting fury on his brother, silver eyes blazing.

"It means she is highlighting her assets- "Silas cleared his throat at the dangerous gleam in his brother's eyes. "Her – er- She is an exquisite woman, and – They are finished dancing!"

He was eager to end the discussion, placing him in a challenging and uncomfortable situation.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself to this Addington fellow." Putting his glass down, he started forward.

"I will accompany you." Silas put away his glass as well. "We do not want to start a scene, and the place is filled with reporters after all."

"Suit yourself."

Kendra saw them coming and came forward to meet them. "I was beginning to think you abandoned me."

"You seem to have acquired an ardent admirer." He said coolly, looking over her head at the man behind her.

"Oh, this is Michael Addington, a long-time friend of mine. Michael, you already know Silas. This is my husband, Harvey."

"I have heard so much about you," Michael said, holding his hand in greeting.

"I have heard nothing about you." Harvey clasped the man's hand briefly before letting go. Turning to Kendra, he took her arm and rudely led her onto the dance floor.

"Is something wrong?" Kendra noticed the tension in his broad shoulders and the tautness on his handsome face.

"You tell me."

Staring up at him with a frown, she searched his face. "He is just a friend; Harvey and you were rude to him back there."

His brows lifted sardonically. "Was I? What? Should I go back and ask for his forgiveness? I am unfamiliar with settings like these, so the rules are unclear. Should I go back and apologize to the man who had his hands all over my wife's body? Is that how it's done?"

She stiffened at his tone, dark brown eyes flashing. "What are you implying?"

"Was I not clear? Well, allow me to clarify. This is your first time in this kind of society, so you might now know the rules. You are wearing next to nothing and are dancing with a man who is not your husband- a man who has his hand all over your naked flesh. People tend to gossip, and I will not be made to look like a fool. Clear enough for you?"

She started to pull out of his arms, but he tightened his hold, his expression wintry. "Another thing that's not done. You are not allowed to leave me on the dance floor."

"Let go of me." Her pleasure in the evening dissolved, and the humiliation of his words was almost suffocating her.

"Why, darling, when you were with the Michael fellow, did you seem to enjoy yourself? Why don't you pretend that's who you are dancing with?"

"I hate you." She whispered huskily, eyes filling with tears. "You are despicable."

"And you are lying." His hand clamped around her waist as he brought her closer to his body, where he was already getting aroused by her nearness.

"You don't hate me, and that little detail can be proven by dipping my fingers inside you. I can guarantee that you are now wet and ready for me. Lie to yourself all you want, but never lie to me. I can prove you wrong in a snap."

Tearing her gaze away from his, she fixed it over his shoulder, and they spent the rest of the dance in tense silence. As soon as the music ended, he guided her back to where the wives were and left. For the rest of the night, he avoided her, and she saw him dancing with several women, bending his charming smile on them and openly flirting.

Feeling the pain twisting her heart, she concentrated on Michael and Silas, who had come over to claim two dances with her.

"He is acting out," Silas told her quietly as she stared with acute misery at her husband. He was dancing his second dance with a beautiful blonde laughing up at him, her hand possessively wrapped around his neck.

"What?" Tearing her eyes away from the beautiful couple, she looked at Silas.

"Harvey. He is acting out."

"He can do whatever he pleases." She lied, lifting her chin and refusing to look at him.

"You make him vulnerable, and he hates it."

"I hate him." She hissed, sighing as he stared at her with that knowing look. "Sometimes I think I am getting through to him, and at other times, he behaves like a complete jerk."

"You know his history, Kendra." Silas pointed out quietly. "And like I said before, you make him vulnerable. He is trying to escape that and how you make him feel."

"By hurting me."

"Something like that." Silas mused, feeling the anger churning as he glanced at his brother. The woman draped over him, and he did nothing about it or discouraged her. "He saw you with Michael, and I could see the furious look on his face.

He almost created a scene. He is usually calm and in control and almost lost it when he saw the man with you. That's not something he is accustomed to."

"In the meantime, what am I supposed to do?"

"Ignore him. Enjoy yourself, and don't let him see how much he hurts you."

"He is hurting me."

"Precisely." Silas grinned at her. "Now, you will have to pretend that he is invisible."

It wasn't easy, but she managed, and after throwing herself into enjoying the evening and accepting the attention of several admiring males, she completely put him out of her mind. At one point, she saw him in one corner, staring at her with a brooding look, but she looked away immediately.

Two could play the same game. She might be a novice at it, but she was catching on quickly. And she enjoyed talking to and getting to know the women she had been introduced to.

They were beautiful women married to powerful men, but they were surprisingly approachable and enthusiastic about the enormous number of charities they were in charge of.

She soon found herself captivated by tales of how far their reach was.

"The Blackwoods contribute a lot to the local children's home," Leesa told her during one of the conversations. "One does not have to think why that is."

"Because of Harvey." Kendra nodded.

"The home he came from was badly run during his time." Kelly supplied as she sipped her champagne. "When they decided to adopt your husband, they did a thorough investigation, only to discover that the children there were being badly abused."

"Abused, how?"

"Physically. It was well hidden, of course, but someone spoke out. They were disciplined by extreme means.

Denied food, and in some instances, the heat was turned off, and certain privileges were taken away. They were not allowed to express themselves at all. The slightest offense, as they call it, and it could be anything, was interpreted as being rude and undisciplined."

"And Harvey?" Kendra whispered.

"He was said to be a troubled child and received the worst punishments."

"How do you know all this?"

"Public records, darling," Leesa told her. "And someone who used to work there was very obliging to the press as soon as everything came out in the open." She nodded toward where Harvey was in discussion with several men. "Your husband has come a long way, and the Blackwoods are to be commended."

"What happened to the home?"

"Almost the entire staff was fired, and the place was revamped. The Blackwoods used their vast influence to turn things around."

She was quiet on the way home, stealing glances at the man in the driver's seat. He had loosened his tie the minute they left the hotel and the top buttons of his shirt.

She was no longer angry with him, but after hearing the story about his early years, she felt something akin to maternal protection and wanted fiercely to find the people responsible for his unhappiness and misery and do some bodily damage.

He was silent for the entire journey, and she did not intrude. Leaning back against the seat, she stretched her feet out and closed her eyes. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

Turning his head to look at her, Harvey felt tenderness blossoming as he glanced at her profile. He had been an asshole to her all night, something his entire family had made him aware of.

"She is a lovely young woman and darling. I am sorry, but I don't think you deserve her. What were you thinking, dancing and flirting with all those women and ignoring your wife?" His mother had asked him in a furious undertone, taking him to task. But she wouldn't understand; none of them would.

He had been rejected before when he was merely a baby until he was a toddler and had suffered those six years in that wretched place. Giving his love- he recoiled ruthlessly from the word. He was not in love with her.

He was just violently attracted to her, that's all. And was possessive as well. He had gone to great lengths to prove that he was not into her in a big way. He had done such a good job that Marilyn had invited her back to her place.

He had firmly reminded her that he was a married man.

"Not a happily married one by the looks of it." She had taunted him. "Your poor wife is over there, and you have been flirting with me and others the entire evening."

"Which shows I am not particularly interested in you." He had returned bluntly.

Was she still upset with him? He wondered as he sneaked a glance at her again. She had not seemed to notice that he had gone out of his way to dismiss her, but it had not worked. He had spent the entire evening feeling dejected and miserable.

Pulling into the driveway, he killed the engine and turned to look at the woman fast asleep in the passenger seat. She had an alluring profile, he thought with a jolt.

Her head was turned away from him, and he could see the tiny tip of her nose and the smoothness of her flawless skin. She removed her jacket and put it on the back seat when they entered the car.

He reached over to touch her satiny shoulder but decided against it. Pushing the door open, he went around to open the back and took out her jacket.

Pulling her door open, he draped it over her and hoisted her into his arms. A smile touched his lips as she simply buried her face in his chest as he made his way up the steps and into the expansive foyer.

Shaking his head as the maid came hurrying forward, he went through the passage and up the stairs to their bedroom. She had been sharing his bed ever since his illness. Putting her down, he took off her shoes and was about to undress her when her lashes flickered open.

"Sleeping beauty awakes."

"I must have been tired." Easing herself up on the pillows, she stared at him.

"Long night." Rising, he started to take off his clothes.

"I am hungry."

He gave her a startled look before tossing his jacket carelessly on the sofa.

"They had food at the hotel."

"Fancy finger food, and I did not like the taste of caviar." She admitted, wrinkling her nose.

"Is that right?" He chuckled, feeling the tension inside his chest all night dissolving.

"No. I am not a fan of raw fish."

"I am with you there." Sitting down, he took off his shoes and socks. "What do you have in mind?"

"Raiding the kitchen." She flashed him an impish smile. "I am sure Antoine left some things out."

"He hates when anyone steps into what he considers to be his territory." He was in his underwear and noticed that she avoided looking at him.

"I can always take the blame. He likes me."

"So, he does." Dragging on an old pair of sweats and sweaters, he nodded at her dress.

"Shouldn't you take that off?"

"Yes." Sliding her slender, curvaceous legs off the bed, she disappeared into the adjoining room to change. He was going to have the maids transfer her things to his room. Realizing the implication of what he was thinking, he stood still for a minute.

He wanted her in his space, something he never thought he would admit to himself. Reaching up a hand, he tugged at the bun, and the hair tumbled down his back.

She returned to the room wearing leggings and a short winter green sweater that exposed her midriff. "Ready?"

He nodded and, slipping into his house slippers, followed her from the room.