CHAPTER TWO

B rianna lay staring at the ceiling. An extremely high ceiling with two crystal chandeliers. Because she was in a castle.

She’d flown across the country searching for her best friend, Willow, who had not returned any of her messages for over two weeks. Given how they spoke daily, that had raised alarm bells. Fortunately, she had a friend in the LAPD, and he had done a sneaky trace on Willow’s phone. The address had seemed strange, but she had been determined to find out where Willow was. After convincing her friend she’d phone if either of them was in any danger and taking the name and number of a local law enforcement agent, she had jumped on a plane and hired a car.

The drive through Maine had been beautiful, but the closer she had gotten to the address, the more confused she had become. Parking outside the castle’s main doors, she’d wondered if her friend had eloped with her new man, Brayden, and this was their honeymoon.

She would have been hurt if Willow had excluded her. The two seemed pretty serious about each other, even if they had just met over a month ago. But it turned out they hadn’t.

Brianna took in the luxurious four-poster bed she lay in, which was draped in pale blue organza and had layers upon layers of the most luxurious white linens she’d ever seen. She felt like a Disney princess, and while she hadn’t checked the wardrobe, she wouldn’t be surprised if there were a selection of beautiful gowns and a bunch of talking forest animals.

She giggled.

There’s no way.

She scampered across the room, laughing. It was nearly midnight and she was still wide awake, so she figured she might as well do some investigating.

Willow had been evasive since she’d arrived, shuffling her from one room to the other. She’d seen little of the castle, but apparently, it was a type of exclusive resort for extremely wealthy people. That explained the lack of signs or tourist brochures, she guessed.

Brianna knew Brayden was rich, but this was beyond rich. Who knew they had a castle in the United States?

She’d messaged her friend at the LAPD and told him she’d arrived safely and found Willow. He and several other uniformed males were protective of her, looking out for her because she was now a widow. Her husband, Christian, had lost his life in Afghanistan when his unit had been hit by an IED. The bomb had been planted on the road they were traveling on and detonated.

That had been over a year ago. A long, hard year of grieving his loss and being angry at life. They had put off having children until his tour ended, thinking they had their entire lives ahead of them. She’d been so mad with herself for not pushing harder. She had wanted to get pregnant and time it so he returned in time for the birth, but Christian had wanted to experience the pregnancy with her, which had been all kinds of sweet and understandable.

But looking back, she wondered if there had been a part of her which knew something was going to happen and wanted a piece of him before he was gone. Some female instinct.

And here she was now, in Maine, with Willow and Brayden.

And Craig.

Even the thought of him flooded her stomach with butterflies and—despite the guilt—gave a twinge in her panties.

There was also shame.

One minute, she’d been a respectfully married woman; the next, a widower going through the stages of grief; then, she was grinding and panting against the deadly gorgeous, tall, bulky man inside a filthy bathroom.

And that wasn’t the worst of it.

After one of the hottest kisses of her life, he had stepped away and stopped. He hadn’t wanted her. Which made little sense, as he’d spent the previous two hours watching her dance with enough heat in his eyes to call the fire department. Even as they left the bathroom, he’d been adjusting his pants.

She wasn’t that bad at kissing, and she knew it.

The dominant man with sizzling green eyes to match her own had marched her back out to the bar, where they’d both stopped dead when they had seen Willow and Brayden.

Until that moment, neither of them had been aware of the connection. Brayden hadn’t seemed impressed at all and had pulled Craig aside to speak to him. A moot point, given the guy had just rejected her.

But that was the thing. He may have physically moved away from her, but his eyes hadn’t. He’d continued to watch her all evening and had insisted on seeing her home safely.

Damn frustrating male.

So she’d left him at the bottom of her stairs, feeling as rejected as she had.

Or maybe not. He was a hard man to read.

It hadn’t ended there. A few nights later, he’d shown up at her house and had the audacity to tell her off for opening her front door wearing a silky negligee. Her nipples hardened at the memory of him pulling her into his body and slamming his lips on hers.

He’d felt powerful, warm, and solid under her hands.

Then guilt had rolled over her, so she’d pulled away, touching her fingers to her lips, then slipped inside, shutting the door. Her forehead had fallen against it as she took long, deep breaths.

She could hear him outside cursing, and then he’d vanished. Regret had immediately shot through her.

Chewing her lip, Brianna had opened the door and stood staring out into the night, the cool air against her bare skin a memory, but one which reminded her how much she physically wanted him. Even with the guilt.

He’d tried to explain why he’d rejected her, but she couldn’t hear it. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t the kind of man she should be with. A man who dragged a woman into a bathroom and lifted her skirt might be a delicious fantasy for some women, but not for her. He wasn’t husband material—not that she was in the market for a new husband.

Or a lover.

Now, when they were in the same room, it was awkward. They bickered at each other to cover their attraction, which wouldn’t budge, and Brayden watched them with interest.

Craig stared at her constantly, often with some type of sneer. While she should’ve been intimidated by his size and the powerful vibe he exuded, she wasn’t. In some unexplainable way, Brianna sensed he wouldn’t hurt her. Quite the opposite. She knew he would protect her. Perhaps it was because of his connection to Brayden and Willow, but it felt like more than that.

She shrugged to herself. Perhaps he was a gentleman underneath all those muscles.

Anyway, now that she knew Willow was okay, she had to head home and get back to work. Mostly, she knew she had to get away from Craig. She hated her attraction to him and all that had gone on between them. Every time she found those emerald eyes of his staring at her, she didn’t know whether she wanted to kiss him or kick him in the nuts.

It could go either way, really.

Brianna pulled open the closet door and burst into laughter. As expected, a handful of beautiful full-length gowns were hanging on the rail. Glancing around the suite, she spotted the oak, full-length mirror.

Why not .

Bri smirked and began flicking through the gowns, rubbing her fingers against a cream one. The fabric was soft and beautiful. She pulled it out, admiring the Victorian-style dress with a low-cut bodice and flowing skirt.

Ten minutes later, she’d done up all the laces and domes. Flushed, she stood and looked at herself in the mirror.

“Holy golly.”

Fitting her like a glove, the cream fabric clung to her breasts, emphasizing her creamy skin. The fitted bodice finished low on her hips then flowed in soft, silky layers to her feet.

Bri spun around, grinning. She hadn’t felt this feminine since her wedding day. She took a selfie and sent it to Willow, explaining she couldn’t sleep and was playing dress-up.

Expecting a response in the morning, it surprised her when her phone beeped.

Holy shit, that’s gorgeous.

I know, right? Why are you awake?

Ah...can’t sleep either.

She glanced in the wardrobe and pulled out a navy-blue dress that would look gorgeous on her friend.

I’m coming to your room. See you in a minute.

Willow and Brayden’s rooms were spacious, so while her lover slept, they could play dress-up without waking him.

Oh. I should probably sleep. See you tomorrow?

Rubbish, I’m already out the door.

Stubborn to the bone, she ignored the rest of Willow’s messages and focused on finding her way back to her friend’s room. The castle was enormous, with hallways that wound around here and there like a rabbit warren of doors.

“Turn left, go down the hall and up the stairway, and then go right along...” she muttered to herself.

The air shifted, and Brianna looked up at the large male who had appeared in front of her. Fire and ice spread throughout her body, while green eyes blazed as they ran along her figure, stopping at her cleavage, then slowly finding her face.

She swallowed.

Craig was shirtless, wearing only a pair of dark jeans. She wasn’t surprised to see he had a lot of tattoos, nor was she surprised by the way her core clenched in response. It was obvious she was attracted to this man, but she would not act on it. At least, not again.

He stalked toward her.

“What are you wearing?” he growled.

She looked down at the gown, having forgotten her own name in his presence. She was carrying the blue one under her arm.

“I...a dress,” she said defensively.

“Are you going to a ball?” he asked, leaning one shoulder against the wall.

“If I were, you wouldn’t be dressed for the occasion. Do you always walk around an exclusive resort half naked?”

He smirked. “Yes.”

“And what are you actually doing here with the loved-up couple, Craig?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, then leaned in. “None of your business, little witch.”

He seemed to think his little nickname for her was funny. Clearly, it was in reference to her red hair, which was all kinds of ridiculous, but no more ridiculous than the way her body reacted when he said it. A flare of pleasure shot through her veins, heating her.

She would not let him know that, though. Instead, she glowered at him.

He took a few steps toward her and tugged the dress out of her arms.

“Stop that—”

“Let me carry it. I presume you’re headed to the pri—I mean, to Brayden’s suite. I’ll escort you.”

Brianna shook her head in frustration, but let him lead the way. He had such a domineering nature, always taking control and telling her what to do.

“And stop calling me a witch,” she added, knowing she sounded immature.

He glanced down at her and smirked. “When are you going home?”

Brianna stopped dead in her tracks and put her hands on her hips as hurt flowed through her once again. How many times could this man tell her he didn’t want her?

She attempted to pull the dress out of his grip, which was a waste of energy because she couldn’t budge it.

“Give me the dress, Craig. If my presence is so repulsive to you, why don’t you take your half-naked self away and go on your midnight walk.” She knew she was being dramatic, but one minute he looked like he wanted to eat her for breakfast and the next it was as if just looking at her pained him.

His eyes darkened.

She backed up.

“You don’t repulse me, Brianna. You know exactly what happens to my body when I kiss you.”

She blushed.

“You remember,” he muttered.

Of course she did.

“Your point?” she asked with mock confidence.

“My point is, my cock can no longer be held responsible for its actions, so I recommend you wear less seductive attires while you’re here.”

Brianna’s mouth fell open.

“That’s not helping either,” he said, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip.

Heat rushed to her core as she pressed her lips together and swallowed. She tugged on the dress again, and he released it. Rushing, she ran along the hall and into Willow’s rooms, panting as the door closed behind her.

“Bri?”

“Thought I saw a ghost,” she said, then turned and held up the dress with a wobbly smile.