BIG: (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (16 page)

She enjoyed half an hour of his incoherent, joyful noises, curled up against his side, until he’d recovered his energy for round two and pounced on her to return the compliment.

His teasing was twenty times worse than hers.

Not only did he tie her wrists to the headboard so she couldn’t possibly interfere with his tormenting pace, but he made his finger-fucking and clit-licking so slow she was close to seeing black stars by the time he finally,
finally
let her come.

The next couple of days passed in a delirium of relaxed happiness as she gathered business cards at a Vermeer and Rembrandt showing, and ate her way through eight tiny courses with wine matches at Ciel Bleu—at the chef’s table, right next to the kitchen, where she could see it all being prepared.

She had no idea how Ric had managed to arrange that. The chef’s table deal was usually exclusively available for tables of four and up. Ric remained relaxed, happy, laughing at all her jokes, making her feel like the sexiest, funniest person on earth until they landed at Heathrow for Elsa’s fifty-all-over-again party.

Annalesa stared around her at the Edwardian elegance of the Savoy Hotel, waiting behind Ric as he claimed their keycards at the reception desk. Corridors spilled out in every direction, and a raucous afternoon party was going on in one of the dining rooms. She dimly registered Ric confirming the last of the party details in the Lancaster Ballroom with the man behind the desk, and making another request to have the Sorcerer meeting room available at ten that night for an hour.

“C’mon.” Ric tugged her hand. “Your mum’s already here and I want to change before we see her.”

She followed him to the room, still in awe of her surroundings. There were more modern corridors boasting some Art Deco, but most of the décor seemed pure Titanic and she was more Jack than Rose, gobsmacked by such opulence.

“Can you pick your jaw up off the floor? You act like you’ve never been in a nice hotel before.” Ric chuckled when she stuck her tongue out at him. He opened the door to the ‘junior’ suite, a huge room that connected to another with a king-sized bed. “I know it’s a little extravagant, but we need separate beds... just for show.”

“I know.” She smiled as he headed straight to the bar. She felt in need of a little liquid courage herself, knowing they would have to go back to the public brother-sister act soon. “Won’t M-Elsa ask why we didn’t get an attached suite for her?”

“Melsa?” Ric poured out a couple of brandies. “That’s a whole new name.”

“I can’t stop thinking of her as ‘Mum’.” Annalesa rolled her eyes, knowing she was going to have to work on that tonight. She was supposed to pretend she wasn’t related to her mother—but also act as if she was still related to her ex-stepbrother. There was some sort of twisted logic to it, perhaps, in an alternate universe somewhere. “She’s going to want to know why you didn’t get three rooms attached together.”

“No worries—I booked her into her favorite room and told her the adjoining suite wasn’t available. But I gotta warn you—she’s still going to be a little pissed at me. And... I need to leave party for a little while tonight for a meeting.”

“Do you have to?” Annalesa made a face, trying not to sound too demanding.

“Afraid so.” He gave an apologetic shrug. “There’s a production company that wants a bunch of Ryker replicas for the latest
Mission Impossible
movie.”

“Oh, MI-27?” She snorted.

He grinned. “The studio wants everything custom-made, which is fine, but expensive. The middlemen I’m meeting with today—middle-women, in this case—want to drive the price down.”

“To hell with that,” Annalesa protested, squaring her shoulders as if preparing for a fight. “We’re Ryker Arms, not K-Mart Arms—there’s no blue-light special.”

“That’s my girl.” Ric looked incredibly proud, smiling as he slid a hand behind her neck, massaging gently. She felt her knees instantly threaten to buckle and Ric caught her with another hand at the small of her back, pulling her in toward him. “I knew you’d have my back.”

“Always,” she murmured, seeing the slightest flicker of doubt in his eyes.

It made her heart ache. He’d really opened himself up, made himself vulnerable to her, but some part of him still expected her to hurt him. She wanted to deny it, but she knew only time would heal that wound. She couldn’t do anything but stand by him to show him that she wasn’t going anywhere else, ever again.

“I wanted to ask you a favor...” Ric hesitated, pulling back and searching her face with slightly anxious eyes. “The women I’m meeting with—they’ve got a reputation for being rather aggressive. Would it be okay if I called you in for back-up at some point?”

“Me?” She felt both flattered and surprised. And even a little moved. She had no doubt that Ric could handle himself in any and all situations that arose, business or otherwise. But for some reason, he wanted to know she was there for him.

That she had his back.

“Of course,” she assured him, not wanting him to see or feel any hesitation on her part.

Now she knew what the extra meeting room was for, and if he needed her, she would come running. Besides, the thought of Ric facing down two she-cats with claws out made her roar inwardly. She didn’t like the idea of him being alone with any woman who wasn’t her.

“Thanks.” Ric brushed a grateful kiss over her lips. He tasted like alcohol and this reminded her of the drink he’d poured for her.

“I’ll have my phone,” she told him, reaching for her glass and taking a tiny sip of her brandy. “Can you text me if you need me?”

“Yes.” He sounded relieved as he slipped his arms around her waist from behind and bent to kiss her neck, sliding a cascade of dark hair aside to do so. “I’ve always needed you, Leesa.”

His words filled her heart to bursting.

“I’m here,” she assured him, putting her drink down and turning in his arms. His face was serious, thoughtful.

“Remember when I said that our relationship was going to be tested?” His big hands moved through her hair, down her back. “This is one of those times.”

“I know.”

She only had to look into his eyes to know he needed something from her. She could only hope she’d know the right thing to say or do in the moment, whatever it was. The truth was, she would walk across burning coals for him if she had to.

There was no devil she wouldn’t deal with, no bargain she wouldn’t make, for this man who held her so tightly in his arms. She didn’t care how it looked, if it made her appear weak or submissive. She only cared that Ric knew, deep in his bones, how she felt.

“You ready to be tough, my little Valkyrie?” He bent to nuzzle her throat, his breath hot against her collarbone.

“I’m ready,” she murmured, although her answer wasn’t directly related to his question. She was ready, in so many ways—for him, to be his, to look into his eyes and see no doubt there. But when she met his needful gaze, she knew it wasn’t up to her. Ric was the one who had to be ready. To trust, to believe, to accept her feelings for him.

And she was going to have to be patient. Not her forte, to be sure, but she would do whatever it took. That’s what she told herself as he gave her that long, speculative yet hopeful look, his big hands gripping her hips like he thought she might swim from his grasp, a slippery fish, the one that got away.

“I’m going to jump in the shower.” Ric released her, grabbing his drink and tossing it back in one gulp before turning on his heel and heading to the bathroom.

Annalesa threw back the rest of her own drink, letting it burn her throat and belly with fire, doing her best to ignore the sharp spikes of anxiety rolling around in the pit of her stomach.

Elsa was drunk by the time Annalesa saw Ric slip out for his meeting. She sat with her mother, whose words were only slightly slurred, and smiled at the collection of Elsa’s friends Ric had managed to gather.

“I know this is awful of me, darling...” Elsa leaned in toward her daughter with a guilty laugh, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “But I’m quite glad Anders couldn’t come.”

“Why?”

“He’s just such a bloody killjoy.” Elsa wrinkled her nose, sipping more wine she really didn’t need, but if you couldn’t get drunk on your birthday, when could you get drunk? “He’s a good man, don’t get me wrong. But one look from him and I feel like I’m supposed to drop and give him fifty.”

“I know what you mean.” Annalesa couldn’t help laughing her agreement. “But I was asking why he couldn’t come?”

“His father passed away.”

“Oh!” Annalesa’s smile faltered. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“There was no love lost, darling.” Elsa waved her sympathy away. “He’s just gone to Bergen to fight over the will with his brothers. Apparently, two of them didn’t get what they expected.”

“Oh.” Annalesa didn’t know what else to say. She looked discreetly down at her phone—nothing from Ric yet and he’d been gone twenty minutes. Maybe the meeting was going better than he’d anticipated?

“Oh my heavens, would you look at him!”

Annalesa followed the direction of Elsa’s unsteady finger and saw a very good-looking guy at the bar, probably in his early thirties, with a nice, slim build. He looked like a midget compared to her Ric, but she wasn’t going to say that.

Annalesa shrugged. “He’s cute.”

“Go and talk to him!”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to play cup—”

“Well, someone has to! How long have you been single? Too bloody long. Now go. Flirt. Do a little live social networking. Look, he’s smiling at you!”

Annalesa buried her face in her wine glass. She wasn’t interested in Mr. Skinny—and she didn’t want to get drawn into a conversation when Ric might text her any moment with an SOS. When she looked up, the guy had moved off to talk to a group of girls.

“For goodness sakes, darling.” Her mother looked irritated. “What
is
the matter with you? And don’t give me any nonsense about that lovely man being out of your league.”

Annalesa squirmed under her mother’s eagle eye, taking refuge once again in her wine glass.

“Darling,
is
there someone? Is there someone who’s making all these men invisible to you?”

She froze, not liking where this conversation was going. She was a terrible, terrible liar. Her mother squeezed her hand gently, which was so unusual, she looked up in spite of herself.

“I can’t say who.” Annalesa put her glass down. “It’s... complicated.”

“If you love him... do you love him?” Elsa studied her daughter’s face and Annalesa tried not to let anything show. “I’m just telling you—if you think he’s the one, don’t hold back. Don’t make the mistake I made with your father.”

It must have been the alcohol talking—Elsa never spoke about Annalesa’s father. He remained this mysterious figure who’d disappeared when she was still a toddler, and later died of cancer before she ever got a chance to meet him. She was intrigued.

“What mistake?”

“Lucien, your father—he pursued me. He practically worshipped me. But we were so poorly matched. I wanted adventure, excitement. I wanted a man who would take me and make me his—not a man who put me up on a pedestal and kept me there.” Elsa paused only to drain her wine glass. “It’s not always easy to follow your heart, but it’s the one part of you that really knows what it wants, Anna. I knew, when I met Brad—he made my blood race.”