Chapter Thirty-Two

Elle

THOSE FIRST FEW steps into the night extravaganza were some of the hardest I’d ever walked.

Not only because I ached in places one should never ache in public, but also because Penn shut down. He’d said things in the car I wanted to chase.

He’d slipped, and I was anxious to encourage him to slip more.

All I wanted to do was find a quiet spot and demand him to open up to me, but he didn’t give me a chance.

Grabbing my hand, he smiled and nodded at people milling around the entrance, tugging me inside the opulent hotel ballroom where the function took place.

Hundreds of people laughed and mingled, glittering like fallen stars all dressed in silver.

The tables around the perimeter of the room looked like flying saucers adorned with lace and crystal candelabras.

“You have a choice, Elle,” Penn murmured as he guided me through the thicket.

When he didn’t give me the options to go with the choice, I frowned. “What options?”

“Two things are happening tonight that are non-negotiable.”

My fingers tensed in his. “I don’t agree to things I can’t control.”

He smirked. “Like you agreed to fuck me? That wasn’t in your control.”

I swallowed, hating he had a point. Then again, he’d asked me if I trusted him. He’d sought permission, passing me the power to deny.

~Which I didn’t.~

I nursed that little conclusion, giving him the limelight.

“Two things.” He smiled roguishly. “The only thing you can control is the order in which they happen.”

Pursing my lips, I accepted a glass of champagne he lifted off a silver platter carried by a white-uniformed waiter.

“Number one, you’re going to drink. I want you tipsy—like you were that night you said yes. I want you loose and inhibited and open to doing whatever I want.”

My swallow of champagne—already bitter and not wanted turned sour. “That was a one-time thing. I don’t drink to excess.”

“Tonight, you do.” Unthreading his fingers from mine, he cupped my elbow, guiding me past a particularly big group of minglers. “I need you open.”

“Why?”

“Because after this function, we’re going to talk.”

I tripped in my heels. “Talk?”

His forehead furrowed, his normally handsome face marked with frustration. “You want to know who I am, Elle?” He moved closer, whispering in my ear with seduction and chicanery. “I’ll tell you.

“But for you to accept the truth, you have to have an open mind.”

I took another sip of champagne—not because of his order but because my mouth shot dry with nerves. “Why do I need an open mind?” I pulled back, looking into his dark bronze eyes. “Who ~are~ you?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Rolling his shoulders, his voice clipped with tension. “You’ll get your answers. But only if you do what you’re told.”

I bristled at the condescending remark.

“I’ll tell you, Elle, but it won’t change a thing.” He caressed my cheek with sudden devotion. “You've been mine since the moment we met, and you'll stay mine until I let you go.

“Anything else—all your arguments, denials, and refusals—mean nothing to me.” He leaned forward until our noses brushed. “Remember that when I tell you. You've already lost. Why? Because you are ~mine~.”

I jerked back, breathing hard and slightly scared.

He either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Looking over the crowd—his vision easily a few inches taller than most—he murmured as if he hadn’t just ransacked my world, “Your choice. Either drink now…or…”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll permit you to keep your wits until after you’ve met Larry again.”

“Larry?”

~From the park?~

Deciding to annoy him, I said, “Ah, your fictional husband slash benefactor.”

“That’s starting to get old.”

My courage sprang from nowhere, bolstered by monster-sized curiosity. “Who is he to you? What exactly is a benefactor anyway?”

His face blocked all answers. “Why do you care?”

“I care because I hate being in the dark.”

“It’s better than other alternatives.”

My heart squeezed. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “Fine. I’ll answer the basics if it’ll stop your damn questions. Larry is family. He’s the only family I have. Stewie will be his adopted son soon.

“Which will make him my brother, for all intents and purposes.”

He took a breath, bracing himself to continue. “I used to…work…for Larry, until I branched off into my own expertise.

“He helped me when I had no one else, and I’ll forever have his back so if he gets sick again and needs to move to Zimbabwe for treatment, I’ll take him.

“If he suddenly told me he couldn’t adopt Stewie, I’d do it in a fucking heartbeat. Larry is the reason I still have a life—even if it is messed up.”

I clutched each answer before he could steal them back. So many questions to tug out more truth, but I focused on the easiest…for now. “And what is your expertise?”

“Stock market.”

I didn’t picture him as a Wall Street guy. A lawyer perhaps, with his sharp tongue and argumentative desire to turn every conversation into a debate. But not boring stocks and impersonal trades.

“Where are your mom and dad?” I drank him in, doing my best to read his body language as he stiffened.

“Dead. Have been since I was eleven.”

I flinched. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do it.” He looked over my head, his patience fraying. I doubted he’d permit any more questions, but I asked another. “You say Larry gave you back your life. How? Where did you guys meet?”

Penn chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

I tacked on another before he could revoke me asking anymore. “What about Stewie? Where did you meet him?”

He grinned, slipping back into the cultured shell that was utterly unreadable. “Enough.” He cupped my chin with his finger and thumb, holding me tight. “Choose. Drink now or later. Your call.”

I gulped as his gaze went to my lips. The room blurred with sexual tension. We’d just had sex but already the familiar ache began anew.

Deliberately placing the champagne on a table next to an identical empty flute, I straightened my back. “Later.

“I’d like to see what Larry will reveal before you scare me away and stop me from figuring out who you truly are.”

He laughed softly. “He won’t help with that, Elle. Only I can.”

“Well, help me then. Tell me. I know nothing about you. Where did you go to school? What sort of stocks do you trade?

“What’s your favorite hobby, drink, color, time of day?” My voice ran into one endless request.

“It’s uncomfortable for me spending time with a man I don’t know, basing everything I do know off whatever chemistry our bodies decide to share.”

His lips tilted. “So you’re saying sleeping with me, while knowing nothing about me, isn’t exciting but terrifying?”

I nodded. “If you want to use extremes, yes.”

He removed his hold, letting my face go. “Careful what you wish for, Elle.

“Sometimes, secrets make things better not worse.” Dropping his eyes, they lingered on my naked throat, almost as if he traced an invisible necklace, then he looked away, once again taking control by guiding me forward with an elbow touch.

Music fell gently from speakers, light classical with a thread of contemporary. It was meant to be relaxing, but I found a hint of macabre hidden in the notes.

The laughing crowd didn’t notice, and I didn’t dwell. Whatever happened tonight, I’d meet headfirst.

If it meant this was the last time I’d see Penn because of some disastrous divulgence, then I would still wake tomorrow. I would still have my company, my father, my world.

Sure, it wouldn’t be as spicy without him in it, but I didn’t need him to make me whole.

~Are you sure about that?~

My heart had been a stupid thing. My ears had heard his lies, but my heart didn’t buy them. It didn’t judge or interrogate.

It blindly followed where affection lay—making my feelings toward Penn woefully complicated.

I let him lead me—staying quiet and obedient out of respect that this was his night. His night to either reveal something I could accept or run away with horror.

I was ready for either as long as he gave me answers.

Stewie found us first.

A small hand appeared from the crowd followed by an arm dressed in gray with navy pinstripes. He grinned as he planted himself in our trajectory, his attention on Penn. “Whatcha think?”

Penn slammed to a halt, rubbing his chin with his fingers in mock-serious contemplation. “Hmm…”

Stewie bought into the pantomime while I watched as an outsider, witnessing once again how many facets Penn had.

He was strict and unyielding, but with Stewie, he was a joker, friend, and protector all in one.

“Very nice.” He looked at me. “What do you think, Elle? Your merchandise shrunk to Stew’s size.”

I reached forward, rubbing Stewie’s lapel, playing into the role of judgment. “I think the tailors did an amazing job, but the suit wouldn’t look good on just anyone.” I smiled, standing upright.

“You wear that suit, Stewie, the suit doesn’t wear you.”

Stewie’s face scrunched up. “I don’t get it.”

Penn chuckled. “She likes it.”

“Sweet!” Stewie spun in place. “Larry said I can wear it to my school interviews next month. Said it will help me open doors that may be locked thanks to my background.”

Penn glanced at me quickly before nodding. “Wise man. But no doors will be locked; you have my word on that.” His hands clenched before relaxing.

“Now, speaking of Larry, mind showing us where he’s hanging out?”

Stewie nodded, slipping into a quick jig-jog. “Sure, this way.”

Penn raised his eyebrow at me, took my hand, and together, we navigated the room.