Chapter 1: King of Deception: Chapter 1

I step away from the circle of light surrounding the beachside bar and draw a deep breath of ocean air as the darkness surrounds me.

Finally, I can breathe.

I’d normally find an oceanside resort on the island of Maui fun, or at least relaxing. But not this time.

“Bella, come back!” Cici yells from her stool on the bar. “We’re just getting started!”

“You go ahead,” I call back to Cici and Maggie, who already have several men vying for their attention. They’ll honestly have more fun without me. “Put your drinks on Mason’s tab.”

My champagne flute is still in my hand. I’m not much of a drinker, and I think this might be my third.

My friends kept ordering them for me. I didn’t have the heart to tell them the last thing I feel like doing is celebrating.

The diamond on my finger catches a bit of light from the nearby beachside bungalows, making the stone sparkle, further mocking me and my mood.

What would happen if I twisted the three-carat monstrosity off my finger and tossed it into the ocean?

My fiancé would likely just buy me another. The ring is, for sure, insured. He’s not letting me slip away from this match that easily.

Preston Wingate III is the kind of old money that only highlights the fact that my family is a bunch of hustlers.

My father was a gangster. My brothers try to hide the truth from me about what he did for a living, but I still know. Our father worked for the Italian Mafia until it killed him.

And I actually mean killed him. Not like he had a heart attack from work stress. He was murdered by mob boss Toni Carcetti.

My brothers are still mucking around with illegal dealings, though they try to share as little as possible about that side of the business with me too. My oldest brother, Mason, has a whole legal real estate development front that is growing stronger. He owns several casinos on the Las Vegas strip, clubs, and apartment buildings. Recently, he built a tunnel that connects them all, funneling the foot traffic to our companies, keeping them within our businesses. It’s brilliant.

But the costs have left him vulnerable. Enter Preston Wingate. Mason swears that with my fiancé’s help, he can shed the last of our illegal dealings, and place us so far above our competition, we become untouchable, making our family safe.

Preston’s connections will infuse us with enough money and friends in high places that my brothers can finally stop being gangsters.

Which would be wonderful because the danger has always been a breath away.

As if that isn’t enough, five men all with alpha-type personalities running one company can get… complicated.

They haven’t told me what happened a few months ago. But I know it was something big. Because my cousin, who is really like my brother, wants out. Luke is selling his shares.

Mason’s buying them, of course. He never misses a business trick. But in a twist I didn’t see coming, he’s putting them in my name. Something about needing to diversify shares for the board. I don’t know.

They sent me to New York to go to school. It was for my protection. But now, I’ve been drawn right back into the web that is our family’s business.

I’m willing to help. I am. I want Mason to go legit. I want Luke to be happy. But the price, the plan to make all this happen is for me to marry Preston.

Which seemed easy at first. Handsome. Charming. He’s everything I should want. And best of all, he’s old money, the kind with names and connections.

We met at a gallery opening. There was an instant connection, or so I thought. But it burned out quick. He’s so stuffy, and I’m not sure I’m enough for him…

I stumble as I cross the lawn. Each beachside bungalow has sweeping water views, each cute and posh, but they all look exactly alike. I pause for a moment. Which one was mine? Third over? Or was it the fourth?

Drawing in a deep breath, I start forward again. I’m not worried. I left my French doors open, no one in a place like this steals from an unlocked room.

But it also means everyone has left their doors open too.

Stopping, I scrunch my brows and search the cute little buildings with their front porches and steps right into the sand.

I was the third… I’m sure of it.

Swallowing down my last bit of champagne, I start up the two steps and set my glass down on the porch table. I slip my heels off the moment I reach the top of the stairs.

Reaching down, I grab the straps, so they’re dangling from a finger as I make my way inside.

A single small lamp by the bed is on, and I don’t bother to turn on more lights as I move to the dresser, dropping my shoes.

My black suitcase is in the corner, just where I left it.

I slip off my earrings, setting them on top of the entertainment console, then do the same with the monster ring.

A sigh escapes my lips to have the thing off. I’d rethink my decision to marry Preston, but I don’t know how to even start the conversation.

When he asked, part of me was relieved. I didn’t want to be part of the business, but I also didn’t want to let my brothers down. Preston could handle Kincaid Enterprises for me. The arrangement seemed ideal.

And then there is Mason. He’s beyond thrilled to welcome Preston into the fold.

My fiancé brings us a legitimacy that Mason has always wanted, and further protection from our enemies. Mason has already started attending the country club events with Preston and has possible deals with several of Preston’s friends.

I shake my head, my eyes sliding closed. Everything started happening so fast… before I knew it, invitations were being sent out, and dresses were being picked and…

I’m not sure Preston loves me any more than I love him. In fact, I think he might like me less.

But what he has in connections, I have in money. Something he and his family have been lacking of late. Not that you’d know it by his lifestyle.

The Wingates have the best of everything.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Remembering my chain of logic doesn’t help soothe my growing unrest. At twenty-two, this isn’t how I saw my life going. A marriage of convenience to finance an underground Las Vegas tunnel.

I was studying fashion in New York, talking about getting a job with a designer, working my way up the corporate ladder. And I was making progress…

But there is no going back now.

Unclipping my bracelet watch that Luke gave me for Christmas, I turn toward the bathroom. My head is spinning from the champagne and all I want to do is fall asleep.

But that’s when I realize the bathroom light is on. Did I leave it on? Cocking my head, I pull my dark brown hair over one shoulder, reaching the zipper at the back of my dress. The zipper slides smoothly open, the dress slumping forward.

I just want to brush my teeth and collapse into bed.

But when I reach for the bathroom door, cracking it open, a plume of steam comes out. I blink a few times, trying to understand. I didn’t leave the water running, did I?

That’s when the door opens wider.

I gasp, taking a step back, my eyes going wide.

Standing before me, backlit by the bathroom light, is a nearly naked man. The light highlights the glistening breadth of his shoulders, the narrow taper of his waist, the long, lean length of him.

Taking another step back, a squeaking scream tumbles from my lips.

He steps out of the bathroom, the towel around his hips, slung low enough that I can see the cut of his muscle at his hip.

Because all the light is behind him, I can’t make out his face, but he can see mine. I start to scream again, my hands coming to my face.

He straightens. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but usually people who break into other people’s rooms aren’t the ones who scream.”

My mouth drops open as it takes me at least three seconds longer than it should to process those words. Maybe it’s the posh British accent that slows my understanding, or maybe it’s the champagne, but suddenly I realize… I’m in the wrong room!

My face flames. Spinning, I bump right into the bed, my shin clonking the frame as I gasp out in pain.

I’m skittering to the side, apologies tumbling from my lips, as I half hop and nearly trip in my effort to collect my things.

“I’m so sorry—” I say for the fourth time and then trip over my own shoes.

I feel myself falling but I’m too intoxicated to catch myself. That’s the exact moment strong arms circle my torso, and suddenly, I stop halfway to the floor, my front pressed to a rock-hard chest.

My eyes go wide as my hands bite into flexing biceps. I mean… wow.

Snapping my chin up, my lips part in surprise. I’m staring into the dark brown depths of the most sinfully beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Or maybe it’s just his whole face.

Straight nose, strong cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass. The only thing soft is his mouth, and my God, heat floods between my legs as I stare at that mouth. I’d like for those lips to devour me.

Wait. How long have we been like this? With me suspended halfway between standing and the floor. “I… I’m… I’m so sorry,” I rasp out, my voice taking on this sultry tone I’ve never heard before. “I’ll just get my things and…”

He quirks a half smile as his hands spread out on my back. Is he tired of holding me like this?

He doesn’t seem it, his features completely relaxed. “Or…” The smile grows. “You could stay.”

My mouth drops open, as I struggle to form a coherent thought. Did he just offer to… to… I’m afraid to even finish the sentence in my head.

Even before Preston, I barely dated.

It’s part of having three overprotective brothers who are always worried about my safety. And there is the whole their enemy killed our father thing.

Worried about me being alone in New York, they assigned me a security detail when I went away to college. A guy discreetly followed me to class, out at night. I was never alone, and I was always being watched. So, unlike most of my friends, I’ve never done a one-night stand before. I’ve never done anything before.

“I couldn’t,” I whisper, my mouth dry, my hands digging deeper into his skin like they’re in complete revolt of my words. They don’t seem to want to let him go.

He slowly pulls me to standing, but he doesn’t let me out of his embrace. If anything, one of his hands slides lower, to the place just above my rear end, pressing the cradle of my hips deeper into his. The ache between my legs gives a throb.

“Suit yourself,” he murmurs, his mouth moving closer to mine. It’s like he’s hypnotizing me. My eyes flutter closed as I try to collect my wits. “Name’s Gris.”

“Bella,” I answer, my fingers on my left hand unlock enough to slide up his arm until they reach his shoulder, my thumb settling in the deep cut of his collarbone.

“Nice to meet you, Bella,” he replies and then his lips brush over mine in this featherlight kiss that is so soft, I wonder if I dreamed it.

“You too?” I return, my eyes still closed. When they finally open, I realize he’s straightened up and I feel heat completely flood my cheeks once again. How long have I been hanging on the precipice of another kiss?

His hands slide to my sides and then trace down over the curve of my hips as he lowers himself into a crouch.

The towel parts with the bend of his legs and I can almost see his… I swallow down a lump, realizing, even as I’m trying to catch a peek of his junk, that his face is just in front of my…

I’m already aching between the legs, but at the proximity of his mouth, I feel the flood of moisture and I can actually smell my arousal in the air.

Which means he can smell me too. He looks up at me with another wicked grin before he grabs my shoes and stands back up.

My hands are on both his shoulders now. When did I reach for him with my other hand? I can’t bring myself to stop touching him, apparently. He places the strappy three-inch sandals between us. “You’ll need these then.”

“Right,” I say with a tiny nod. Get it together, Arabella, I give myself a mental shake as I let go of one of his shoulders and reach for the shoes, our fingers brushing.

I just need to collect my things, slink out the door, die of embarrassment, and then figure out how to use the shower head in my own room to relieve the ache between my legs.

But as I take the shoes, I look down and see the sparkle of my engagement ring on the top of Gris’s console. The ring is a D color, VS1 clarity, set in a six-prong platinum setting. It’s perfectly cold and the idea of putting it back on my finger makes me shiver.

I look back up at the man that I’m still holding with one hand. Drawing in a deep breath of air, I lick my lips. “What are the rules if I did stay?”

Oh, the way he looks at me. It’s deliciously wicked and I want to dive into sin without looking back. “What do you want them to be?”

He isn’t serious? I swallow down a lump, the intensity of his stare makes the words die on my tongue. He’s very serious.

“I…” I lick my lips again as he watches the path of my tongue, his dark brown eyes growing ever darker. “I can’t have sex with you.”

One of his brows quirks up. Does he know it’s because I have another guy? The ring is right there…. I bet he hasn’t guessed that it’s because I’ve never done this. And I don’t just mean the one-night stand.

I’ve never done any of it. I’ve never had sex before.

“All right then. What about kissing?” he asks his voice dropping low, with the kind of heat that has me getting even wetter.

“Yes,” I gasp a moment before he leans in, taking my mouth in a much firmer and deliberate press of his lips.

“How about here?” And then he bends a bit to place his lips on the fluttering pulse of my neck.

“Yes.”

“Here?” he asks, planting another full-mouthed kiss in the middle of my chest.

My head tips back. “Yes.”

His hands come to the back of my dress, still open from when I unzipped it. I’m not really big-chested, but I’m not small either. A solid C-cup with breasts that are high and perky so I can go without a bra if the dress is right.

Which I did tonight.

The fabric of my cotton eyelet dress brushes down my shoulders and pools around my waist as he drops lower, his lips hovering just over one of my nipples. I can feel his warm breath on the sensitive skin, the proximity of his lips already making my nipple pucker. “Here?”

My head tips further back as I arch my chest up.

“Yes.”

He sucks one nipple between his lips, his tongue swirling over the pebbled skin and I cry out, burying my hands in his hair. I’ve never been the most sexual person. It honestly scared me. Until tonight.

Because with him…

It’s like he flipped some switch.

But he isn’t done, not even close. He moves to the other breast, giving it equal attention before he slides lower. “Here?”

“Yes.”

He licks at the skin of my stomach, tonguing my belly button before he tugs the dress lower, until it clears my hips and drops to the floor.

I’m only in my thong and I might be embarrassed, but he stops his mouth an inch from the V between my legs. “Here?”

Even the idea of him kissing me where I ache has me sighing out a moan. “Yes.” The way I say it, I might as well be begging.

If he stopped now, I’m pretty sure I would.