Chapter 1: Finding Forever: Prologue

In a grand ballroom full of colorful, flamboyant butterflies, she was a small, pale decidedly drab moth. Niall Caden Hawthorne—Cade—shouldn’t have noticed her. He wasn’t sure why his restless gaze had snagged on her, not when she was doing her damnedest to fade into the wallpaper behind the large potted plant in the furthest corner of the massive room.

The huge space was teeming with brash, overconfident people. They were all talking and laughing a little bit too loudly. All putting on a damned good show of having a fabulous time. And why wouldn’t they? Invitations to the Hawthorne Trust Annual Charity Gala were coveted by celebrities, royalty, and powerful politicians the world over. Scoring an invitation to this event represented the pinnacle of making it.

Cade had never seen the appeal, honestly, but as he’d been obligated to attend since he was thirteen, he was hardwired to resent it. Even more so these last few years, when it seemed liked neither of his brothers gave a good goddamn about appearances and familial obligations, while Cade still tried to be the Good Son.

His younger brother Gideon—until recently—had happily skipped the gala and all other family-related events, since his late teens. While Nox, their middle brother, had been MIA for the last eighteen months because he was going through some shit.

That left Cade and his youngest sibling, McKenna, holding the bag. Kenny, of course, lived for this shit. She loved dressing up, partying, and she was the one who picked the recipient charity every year. The gala was her pet project, a responsibility she’d shouldered since their mother’s death eleven years ago when Cade had been twenty-three and Kenny only eighteen. But even Kenny seemed peaked and out of sorts this year. He’d caught a glimpse of her earlier, looking beautiful as always, but also pale, too thin, and definitely not happy.

Cade absently lifted a champagne flute from a passing tray, as his restless gaze left the peculiar little gray moth in the corner to sweep the grand ballroom for his sister. He’d been meaning to corner her and find out what was wrong. He’d never seen her look less than radiant at one of these shindigs but she’d appeared frazzled enough earlier for him to make a mental note to ask her if she was okay.

He didn’t see her. Instead he spotted his youngest brother, Gideon, slow dancing with his wife Elizabeth. The couple had been together for eighteen months now and married for the last six months. The woman was undoubtedly the one who’d encouraged Gideon to come to the gala tonight.

Those two were so wrapped up in each other that, as usual, they appeared oblivious to the rest of the world. Cade rolled his eyes and skimmed over the rest of the glittering, sophisticated crowd before coming to a stop on the fragile moth again.

He supposed—if this were regency England—she would’ve been considered the quintessential wallflower. She was wearing a silvery ball gown. Cade had dated enough wealthy, sophisticated women to recognize that it was clearly an expensive designer dress.

But the silver-gray color washed out her already pale complexion. There was a subtle sheen to the fabric that reminded him of rain-soaked spiderwebs on a crisp winter morning. He snorted in self-derision at the uncharacteristically whimsical thought.

The dress—a long sheath which skimmed over barely-there curves—was almost prudish. Long sheer sleeves, an empire waist, and a modest, elegant boatneck, combined with a floor length skirt in fabric so lightweight it seemed to move with every breath she took.

Her hair, piled atop her head in a complicated series of twists and braids, was blonde. No… blonde was an entirely too simplistic a word for that remarkable silvery moonlight shade of platinum. Cade doubted the color was natural and with the entire mass balanced on top of her head like that, it looked like too much weight for her slender neck to carry.

While her hair was remarkable, the rest of her was decidedly not. She was so pale he wondered if she was anemic. And then also wondered why someone so colorless would choose such a light-toned, monochromatic dress.

As he drifted closer to her lonely corner, he conceded that she wasn’t entirely without color. He noted the faintest blush of pink in her cheeks and on her mouth. The somber soft misty gray—almost the same shade as her dress—of her large wide set eyes. Her long, thick lashes and delicately arched brows were startlingly dark in contrast with the paleness of her skin and hair, adding an intriguing depth and sultriness to her lovely eyes.

She had an appealing mouth, with a full, cupid’s bow upper lip, which overshadowed the less full curve of her lower lip. He’d never seen a mouth quite like it before. Upside-down and interesting, on a quiet, plain face. His eyes drifted up from that captivating mouth, set above a narrow, pointed chin. Then moved on to her small, straight nose, high cheekbones, and back to the big, gray eyes that widened as they made contact with his.

Caught staring, Cade offered her a wry grin, hoping she’d accept the silently offered apology but alarm flared in her gaze and she immediately diverted her eyes. Thrown by that response, Cade frowned. He wasn’t accustomed to being so blatantly snubbed.

How… interesting.

He downed his drink and set the glass on a passing tray, snatching up two more flutes in a smooth movement, before sauntering over to where the woman had partially sidled behind one of the heavy overly ornate brocade drapes. Cade slid in next to her, and she gasped as her eyes snapped up to meet his behind the gloom of the curtains.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind sharing your hiding place? I could use a breather from that crowd.”

Despite the gloom behind the drapes, there was enough light filtering in for him to see her lush lips part on a soundless oh, while she continued to blink up at him in mounting alarm. Aware that he’d boxed her in—the wall on her left, a window behind her—Cade was careful to keep a few inches of space between them.

He lifted the second glass of bubbly, holding it up to her with a placating smile.

“Thirsty?”

She took the glass but maintained her silence.

He tilted his glass toward hers, clinking them together in a show of camaraderie before taking a sip.

It was musty back here, the dust tickled his sinuses, threatening a sneeze.

“You’re Niall Hawthorne,” she said, her eyes still glued on his face, her gaze oddly intent and probing. A frown furrowed her smooth forehead and wrinkled her dark eyebrows.

He watched her for a beat, not liking the sound of that name on her pretty lips, and made a snap decision.

“Cade,” he corrected, taking another drink, successfully stifling the urge to sneeze.

She looked confused. Who could blame her? He felt a little confused himself, not entirely certain why he’d asked her to call him that.

“What?”

“I prefer Cade. Only the people I like”—of which there were few—“call me Cade.”

“Your family calls you Niall. Don’t you like them?”

His lips twisted into a bitter smile. His family—well his siblings anyway—hadn’t always called him Niall. That they now did had always felt like a betrayal to him.

“Oh, I love them very much but sometimes I’m hard-pressed to like them.”

She tugged her pink lower lip between small, even white teeth and nodded.

“I get it,” she offered in a small voice, her somber gaze never wavering from his face.

She took a tentative sip from her glass and continued to stare at him pensively.

He didn’t push for details, instead he leaned back against the cool glass of the window behind them and stared at the deep green fabric of the drapes. The ostentatious, overly embellished gold pelmets above them were boxy and pushed the curtains far enough from the wall and window to give them a cozy, private nook. Back here the sounds of the party were muffled enough to make them feel like they were far removed from everyone else.

“Why’re you hiding here?” he asked and watched in fascination as color bloomed from beneath the high collar of her dress, up into her face.

“I’m not hiding.”

He lifted a skeptical brow and swept his pointed gaze around their gloomy, fabric hidey hole, before bringing his eyes back to her flushed face.

“Well, I wasn’t hiding until you did that thing.”

He lifted his brows and she averted her gaze, stubbornly staring straight ahead at nothing. Cade canted his head as he inspected her profile.

“What thing?”

“You stared at me like you meant to talk to me.”

He felt his lips twitch, and he choked back a chuckle.

“And what was so wrong with that?”

“I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Aah. And yet now you are.”

“Like I have a choice,” she grumbled.

“You do,” he told her gently. “We could just stand here in silence.”

Her eyes fluttered back to his face, uncertainty flickering in those grave gray depths.

“Really?”

“Sure… but before we descend into said silence, you mind telling me why you don’t want to speak with me?”

She shook her head.

“What about your name? Is that something you’d feel comfortable divulging?”

She hesitated and then shifted from foot to foot. Cade expected her to flatly refuse but she surprised him when she said, her voice no louder than a whisper, “Fern.”

He liked the name, it suited her. Delicate and somewhat unique, but also completely without artifice.

“Fern? Nice to meet you.”

“This isn’t a meeting. It’s an encounter.”

Cade smiled. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from the seemingly quiet and shy woman in the corner, but this tartness certainly wasn’t it. Something in the way she carried herself—tried to hide herself—had told him to expect timidity, fear maybe. But she wasn’t afraid of him… and he liked that.

“Shouldn’t you be hosting or something?” Her question was pointed, and his smile broadened at her prickliness.

“Nah, I just show up to these things, stay where they put me, smile when I have to, and escape as soon as humanly possible.”

“Isn’t this meant to be one of those family events, to showcase how close-knit the Hawthornes are? A tight, unbreakable unit?”

“Hard to do that when we’re not all here.” He was proud that he’d managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Still, that searching look she was giving him made him wonder if he’d been as successful at it as he’d believed.

“One of your brothers isn’t here.” The statement was matter-of-fact.

“Hmm,” Cade made the noncommittal sound while glaring down at the effervescent liquid in his glass.

“And that bothers you?”

“It is what it is.” He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, not liking the turn the conversation had taken. How had the focus shifted so quickly from her to him?

Strange women who wanted to know too much about Cade or his family made him wary. For good reason. He’d encountered more than his fair share of opportunists who found the lure of the Hawthorne name and wealth irresistible.

It would disappoint him if Fern turned out to be one of those. But it wouldn’t surprise him. Nothing much surprised him anymore when it came to gold diggers.

Still, it would be best to proceed with caution now that his suspicions were aroused.

“Has he missed many of these?” she asked.

“For someone who didn’t want to talk just a minute ago, you’re certainly a curious little thing, aren’t you?”

Her face froze and her mouth clamped shut. She retreated. It wasn’t a physical thing, but she seemed to fold into herself, become diminished somehow and Cade regretted the loss of animation in that serious face.

“Sorry,” she muttered stiffly, her fingers clenching around the stem of the glass.

He stared at her, noting her soft skin, her lush mouth, and found himself inexplicably drawn to her once again. He was bored, maybe that was the draw. Bored, slightly horny, and feeling just cynical enough right now to toss aside his usual caution around potential money grubbers.

She wasn’t his type, but she was different enough to be interesting.

“We don’t have to talk, but there are other, far more satisfying, modes of communication,” he murmured, still maintaining his distance while watching her closely.

Her breath caught.

Held.

Cade braced himself, expecting… something. Over the top feigned outrage, perhaps? Or maybe she’d launch herself at him eagerly?

What he got was a slow, confused blink. Followed by a fascinating expression of almost horrified dawning realization… and then another furious blush.

And silence.

She sucked her top lip into her mouth, then released it, and Cade stifled a groan at the sight of the rosy, engorged lip. And his slight horniness instantly transformed into raging rampant lust. He wanted to be the one to suck that lip—along with other, more sensitive, parts of her body. Wanted to be the one to leave those parts swollen and straining for more.

Fuck.

He suddenly wanted that very, very badly.

“Do you mean”—Her voice dropped into a comical, almost theatrical whisper as she leaned toward him and continued—“sex?”

The whiff of her heady perfume mingled with the scent of honey and almond from what he assumed was her shampoo—along with her sudden closeness—made him groan. Mix that with the way his cock lengthened along the inseam of his trousers at the sound of the tame word sex on a mouth that was at once seductive and incredibly innocent and Cade was a fucking goner.

He wanted her.

The strength of that sudden tsunami of lust staggered him. He did not know how, or why, but right now this plain little thing, with her sad eyes and her rosy pink full upper lip, made him want to do unimaginably filthy things to that slender body with its slight curves.

“Nothing so tame as mere sex, sweetheart,” he corrected her gruffly, breathing the words directly into her ear. “I want to fuck you hard and long. Right here in this corner if need be.”

“I think…” Another slow, owlish—almost confused—blink. “I think I’d prefer a little more privacy for-for that.”

“Aye?” he asked on a growl, nipping the top of her ear and grinning when she shivered in reaction. “Wanna get out of here?”

She hesitated again and then nodded.

Cade swallowed a triumphant shout and hooked an arm around her slender waist, yanking her to his side with a little too much roughness. He needed to get himself under control, she was delicate… and what he felt right now was very far from fucking delicate.

He inhaled, seeking a modicum of control while considering how he was going to get her out of here in the quickest, most discreet way.

He pictured the layout of the grand ballroom, visualizing the nearest exits.

Once he had their exit strategy formulated, he turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her while he crowded her against the window.

“Before we go…” he whispered, running his lips down the silky, seductively scented tract of skin beneath her ear toward her neck. “How about a little something to take the edge off?”

She whimpered in response and he took the champagne flute from her loosening grip and placed both of their glasses on the windowsill behind her.

Her hands fisted the front of his shirt as he cupped her face, lifted it toward his and lowered his head to suckle that juicy top lip into his mouth.

He groaned at the taste of her and lifted his head almost immediately, not sure he’d be able to stop if he deepened the kiss the way he wanted. He needed to get her out of here right now.

“What the hell are you? Some kind of witch? You’re driving me insane,” he told her and her eyes widened. She looked as shell-shocked as he felt.

“Really?” she asked, her voice a little skeptical and lot confused.

“See for yourself,” he invited hoarsely and took one of her hands and guided it down to his straining crotch.

At the first tentative touch he embarrassed himself by involuntarily thrusting against her. She gasped and her head bent as she stared down to where she was cupping him. Her hand closed experimentally around his girth and he swore and stepped away from her. Folding that same searching hand into one of his, he tugged her out of their private little nook.

The exit was close and he had her out of the ballroom and in the library in under a minute.

Cade had never been ruled by his cock, but right now it was most definitely calling the shots. As he stared at the slender, drab little moth who had so effectively lured him toward her pale light, he knew two things with absolute certainty…

This was not a good idea.

But Cade did not give a fuck.