22. Chapter 22

22

S oren was pissed.

Pissed about what, exactly, he wasn't sure.

Could have been that Ilaria had been ignoring him for the last hour, after she told him to stay away from her.

Could have been that a bunch of assholes kept going up to her, and in return she would flash her megawatt smile at them. She had never given him that smile.

Or it could have been that his fingers still itched to massage her skin through her satin dress, his arms wanting to wrap around her and hold her up against him.

On top of that, he still had a job to do. He and his team were providing surveillance at the Inverwick summer festival, the largest event of the year.

Soren stood off to the side of the stage, which had been set up in the middle of the closed street, and scanned the crowd of the festival—as did the rest of his soldiers who were peppered throughout the crowd. But his eyes were repeatedly drawn to the woman in the dark green dress and wavy coffee brown hair who kept tempting his willpower.

He watched her dancing in the crowd in front of the stage, willing her to look at him.. After she had stormed off, she didn't once look at him, completely forgetting he was there. Which irritated him to no end.

He didn't know why he had gone up to her like that. She was stunning in that dress, and she looked like she was having too much fun with other men. He wanted her to look at him like that. And he just wanted another excuse to touch her.

God, did it feel good to touch her. To feel her body press up against his. To trace the curves of her waist with his hands. To smell her alluring scent. To pretend for a few minutes she belonged to him. She was becoming a temptation he could no longer resist, consequences be damned. He had a feeling that whatever happened in Chicago, he would not come out unscathed, and he was almost beyond caring.

Almost.

I'm not yours.

Ilaria's words rang in his ears. She had issued that statement with vitriol, meant to make him back off. And the old Soren—the one who unequivocally chose his family over her—would have. But this new losing-his-sanity Soren took it as a challenge. Despite whatever he told himself were his priorities, his body was doing the opposite. Acting of its own accord, his body decided that she would be his.

The festival was in full swing after sunset. The stage stood at the intersection of the four town blocks made available for the event. Dozens of Inverwick business owners manned their stalls that lined the street selling all manner of food, drinks, jewelry, art, clothes. The string lights crisscrossing above the street lent a festive atmosphere.

And the streets were packed; the festival was the most crowded it had ever been. It looked as if every Inverwick resident, along with hundreds of visitors from Edinburgh and surrounding towns were present.

Elowine and Rowan came to stand next to him.

"No issues on the east side," Elowine reported. "We're at near capacity here in the center. It's fairly sparse on the east end."

"No issues on the west side," added Rowan. "There's a decent sized crowd in front of the Tavern," Rowan said. The Inverwick Tavern was a block west from where they were standing. "It's calm at the moment, but more people are coming. I've posted a soldier on either side to keep an eye on them."

Soren nodded his confirmation. "Good."

Soren's team was set up in an intricate rotation to monitor for suspicious activity within the four-block radius of the festival. Elowine and Rowan were checking in with the individual soldiers and then updating Soren every thirty minutes.

This was the usual routine every year, but this year, with Ilaria here, he had increased the number of soldiers on duty. Even with the hitman eliminated, Soren wasn't taking any chances.

The festival attendees were used to seeing the MacGregors patrol the event, so no one batted an eye. They appreciated it, even, because the patrolling kept the unruliness at bay.

Soren's eyes drifted back into the crowd and zeroed in on Ilaria, who was dancing with Niema and Arick. A band on stage was playing a swingy jazz tune, which Ilaria clearly wasn't used to dancing to, but she was giving it her best shot.

And that was another thing he admired about her. Her general lack of self-consciousness. If she felt like doing something, she did it and didn't worry about how it looked.

The band finished the tune and stopped. A hand tap sounded over the speakers. Soren and the rest of the crowd turned their attention to the stage.

"Testing, testing." A woman with light brown hair in her forties stood on stage and picked up the microphone.

"Hello, everyone!" Her voice was loud and excited. "Welcome to the fifty-eighth annual Inverwick Summer Festival!" A loud cheer went up from the crowd. "If you don't know who I am already, my name is Fiona Douglas, and I'm the organizer of the festival. I just want to say a few words, introduce you to a guest, and then you can all go back to your fun.

"This year's festival is our largest ever, with so many new businesses participating. And it wouldn't be possible without the help from the MacGregor family, whose support and dedication to this town have been invaluable. So please give a warm welcome to Galen MacGregor!"

The crowd clapped as Galen walked to the center of the stage, gave Fiona a peck on the cheek, and accepted the microphone from her. "Thank you, Fiona." He turned to the crowd. "This will be brief, I promise. I, too, would like to return to my beer." Everyone cheered. "As Fiona said, this year's festival is the largest ever. And while she is giving me and my family a lot of the credit, I would say that it is the people of Inverwick who deserve the credit. With your creativity, hard work, and just plain generosity and kindness, you've made this town what it is today.

"You know, I've called Inverwick my home for over two decades, mainly because I love the people here. There is no town, nor festival, without the people. You are this town. And I'm excited to see what your creative geniuses come up with next. Just know that my family and I are as invested as you are in helping Inverwick thrive.

"So please enjoy the rest of the evening. Give Fiona and her team a ‘well done' for organizing this event. And support all the businesses, new and old. I, for one, have committed to checking out three new businesses tonight, including the new ice cream shop, Creamsicle, that serves chocolate covered ants."

A roar sounded from the crowd. The Creamsicle employees raised their arms in the air, their stall being right next to the stage.

"Ants, ants, ants!" The crowd chanted. An employee appeared on the stage holding an ice cream cone topped with black dots. She handed the cone to Galen, who held it up to the crowd. The chanting grew louder, egged on by Arick and Niema standing in the front. Galen took a big bite off the top of the ice cream, which generated a loud cheer from the crowd. "Delicious," Galen said into the microphone. Everyone laughed.

The band took the stage again and launched into a new swing number. Soren's eyes sought out Ilaria and his sister and brother. Arick had struck up a conversation with a young lady who looked smitten. The women were dancing again, with a group of twenty-something men hovering near them, waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

Soren pushed himself off the wall, ready to rearrange a face or two if any of those punks laid a hand on Ilaria. Which, knowing her, she wouldn't appreciate at all. She'd probably kiss one of them just to spite him.

Then he caught sight of the Creamsicle booth and got a better idea. He walked over and ordered two individual servings of the homemade vanilla bean ice cream. On one he asked for the chocolate sprinkles topping. The other was topped with chocolate ants.

The blonde behind the table flashed Soren her biggest smile. On a normal day, he would have turned on his charm, made a joke about ants and ice cream, and asked for her name and phone number. But he hadn't had a normal day since Ilaria came back into his life.

He carried both ice cream cups into the dancing crowd and maneuvered his way to Ilaria and Niema. Both were giggling so hard they didn't notice him until he held one of the cups in front of Ilaria's nose.

She looked at the cup, then up at Soren. Her smile faded. "No, thank you," she said coolly. She stepped back. Niema watched with narrowed eyes.

"The Creamsicle employees are watching," he said. "You can spite me, but you don't want them to think you're rejecting their ice cream, do you?"

She glared at him. "Your manipulations are getting tiresome."

"I'm trying to apologize for what I did earlier," Soren said.

The stiffness in her face relaxed a bit. She took the cup and then turned away. "Thank you. You can leave now."

He leaned into her ear, his deep voice a soft purr. "Take a walk with me." He leaned closer. "Please."

Niema grabbed her brother's arm and pulled him down so she could hiss into his ear. "Do not hurt her." Then she pushed Ilaria lightly toward Soren. "Go."

Soren handed Niema the other cup and steered Ilaria's elbow out of the crowd.

"Are these ants?" Niema screeched behind them.

Ilaria examined her cup more closely. "Are these ants?"

"You have chocolate sprinkles. Niema has the ants." She huffed a laugh which inexplicably released some of the pressure in his chest.

He watched her eat a small spoonful. "Mmm," she murmured. The pressure eased a bit more.

They strolled down the street, her face relaxing as she surveyed the different booths.

"Soren!" Katie, the owner of The Jewel Box, came running out from inside her booth. She ran up to him and gave him a tight squeeze. "I've been hoping to see you. Come!" She dragged him toward her booth. Soren looked back at Ilaria, who shrugged and followed, still eating her ice cream.

The Jewel Box had been Katie's dream since she was a little girl, making handmade jewelry out of her parents' garage. It wasn't until she had received an investment from the MacGregors that she was able to finally open a storefront.

Her tables were filled with intricate, one-of-a-kind jewelry, all handcrafted so that no two were exactly the same. Ilaria's eyes grew round at the beautiful pieces.

"Did you make all of these yourself?" Ilaria asked Katie.

"Yep," Katie replied proudly. "Every single one of them."

Ilaria studied two bracelets side by side. "They're gorgeous, really unique. My best friend at home would love one of these."

"Are you a friend of Soren's?" the jewelry maker asked as she boxed up the bracelet and handed it to Ilaria.

Ilaria hesitated. "Yes," Soren jumped in. "Good friends."

"Then I'm sure you understand how much he means to me," she gushed as she wrapped her arm around his waist. "I've been making jewelry since I was a kid, and I've always wanted to open a store."

Soren watched Ilaria's expression. She was smiling at Katie, likely more charmed by the store owner herself than any story she was telling about Soren.

"But it was only due to Soren that I was finally able to open my business." She hugged him again. "I owe this man everything."

"No need to be modest, Katie," Soren responded. "You wouldn't have a business if you didn't have a great product."

"Now who's being modest?" she responded affectionately.

Ilaria seemed to know where this was headed and took out a handful of bills.

"No, no, please, take it." Katie waved the money away.

"No, I insist," Ilaria said firmly. "You deserve to be paid for your work." She stuffed the bills into Katie's hand and then walked away, tossing her empty ice cream cup into a garbage bin. "It was nice to meet you."

"Thank you, love!" Katie called after her. "Hope your friend likes her gift."

Ilaria shook her head at Soren as they continued down the street. "I'm not taking you shopping anymore," she said. "All these shops will go out of business if you're around."

He looked a little sheepish. "That's why I usually send my assistant to buy things in town. They let her pay, but not me."

As they passed, business owners called out to Soren like he was their long lost best friend, beckoned him over, and tried to gift him with their wares. Eventually, he had to wave them off and make apologetic gestures for not stopping.

"So you and Galen invested in all of these businesses?" Ilaria asked. "At least half the businesses look at you like they owe you their first born."

"Mmm." He didn't really want to talk about it. HIs investments weren't something he liked to advertise.

If she noticed his lack of explanation, she didn't accept it. "Why?" she asked.

Soren scanned her face. For some reason, he didn't want to tell her the whole truth. He didn't want to see admiration in her eyes just because he bragged about lending money he already had to people who needed it.

But for once, Ilaria wasn't looking at him with hostility, only curiosity, and he couldn't deny her.

"Rae had a tough few years. Close to going out of business. Not enough volume, costs too high." He went quiet for a beat. "I didn't want her to lose her business. I didn't want the bakery to shut down. We had Caelum run an analysis for her, show her what needed to happen for her to be profitable." He glanced at her. "Then we gave her the money she needed to build it."

Ilaria blinked at him. "Gave? In return for part of the business?"

Soren shook his head. "No. She still owns it all. The money was a gift. Free and clear."

She looked surprised. "What about all these other businesses?"

They had reached the edge of the festival. Soren leaned against a lamp pole and looked back at all the stalls. "Most are no-interest loans. A few are low interest, only because the owner refused our money otherwise."

Ilaria looked speechless. "Jesus, Soren."

"I know," he said. "On the face of it, they're all terrible deals. But this town…it's been good to us. Good to me." The people here had made him feel welcome and cared for after he and his siblings had lost their parents. "I owe this town. For the rest of my life, I'll never repay my debt."

Ilaria was watching him appraisingly. "I never knew that," she murmured.

Feeling a little too vulnerable, he pushed off from the lamp pole and kept walking, away from the crowds. Ilaria followed him. "Don't think we were being entirely benevolent. There was still some self-serving aspect to it. The town looks more beautiful, the quality of the food and businesses is better, and the extra tourists have added to the bottom line for the MacGregor businesses."

"Why do you downplay it?" Ilaria asked.

Soren's eyes snapped to hers. "Downplay?"

"You minimize it," she observed. "Like what you've done for this town doesn't matter."

He shrugged. "What the owners do is a hundred times more meaningful than what I've done."

She studied him. "Right. You've only made it possible for them to do what they do."

He looked at her impatiently and waved his hand dismissively. "It's just money. What's so difficult about sharing it?"

"You know as well as I do there are many people out there who don't want to share."

"What do you want me to say?" He was getting testy. "That I deserve all this respect and acknowledgment just because I spread some money around?"

"Yes." Ilaria wouldn't let it go. "Say you deserve respect and acknowledgment."

"This is ridiculous."

"You can't say it, can you?" She looked amazed. "One day I'll make you say it. That you save people and that you deserve the credit for it."

"Mm-hmm." Soren suddenly realized they were alone. And from her expression, so did she. And she was gazing at him with a soft and empathetic expression. His irritation vanished, and his focus zeroed in on her lips, her eyes, her curves.

Soren took a step closer, causing her chin to tilt up and her eyes to flare. "I would apologize for earlier—putting my hands on you like that—but to be completely honest, love, I'm not sorry at all."

Ilaria's brows furrowed, which conflicted with the desire in her eyes. "You said you were trying to apologize for that."

"I lied. I don't regret it at all. And I'd do it again."

Her eyes flared with alarm. But not in fear. Alarm at her own desire. "Touch me again without my permission and you'll regret it."

She would have sounded convincing if she hadn't been so breathless. His cock stirred.

"That's a challenge if I ever heard one," he rasped. "I'd think I'd like to find out exactly what I'll regret."

Soren watched her throat work through a swallow. The pulse in her neck thrummed to the beat of his own heart.

"You rejected me, remember?" Ilaria whispered. Her eyes were pinned to his.

"I did say that, didn't I?" he murmured. "Now for the life of me, I can't remember why."

Ilaria's rosy lips parted, and he couldn't breathe. In the back of his mind, alarms were going off. But he couldn't focus on anything else but her. Having his hands on her earlier had completely zapped his willpower. He had no more defenses where she was concerned.

"Give me your permission." His voice was rough, edged with hunger. "To touch you again."

She took in a sharp breath. Soren knew the instant she gave in, when the wrinkle between her eyebrows relaxed and she licked her lips.

At the same time, she grabbed the lapels of his suit while he cupped her face with both hands. Their kiss was laced with hunger, desperation, and unmet need that had waited too long to be fulfilled.

Breathing ragged, his hands roamed along her body, touching her like he had always imagined. He pressed her up against him, relishing the feel of his rock-hard erection pushing against her belly.

His tongue danced with hers, tasting her like he had dreamed. He scraped his teeth lightly along her lower lip, and she moaned in response.

It wasn't enough. He wanted her under him, with no clothing between them. Then he could finally claim her.

Ilaria suddenly inhaled a deep breath and pushed hard against his chest. She wrenched her lips away from his.

"No," she panted, her eyes still shiny with desire. "This isn't right. I can't do this again."

Soren could see her walls going back up right before his eyes, and his chest squeezed. He had hurt her the last time, maybe irreparably.

He let her back away but his body wanted to revolt. He wanted to devour her.

She turned from him and headed back toward the festival.

Fuck. He didn't want to let her walk away. Couldn't let her walk away like this. Starting something but never finishing.

"Ilaria."

She stopped and half turned.

"As promised, you are going to trust me. And when you do, we'll finish what we started."