Kiss Me Kate (The English Brothers Book 6) (11 page)

“Jesus,” he hissed.

“That’s not
really
Kate English, is it? We just saw her on Monday and she definitely did not look like that.”

“Shut up,” said Étienne, cutting his eyes to his brother and making sure J.C. understood that any further comments about Kate would be unwelcome. Étienne threw back his second drink in one gulp, then slapped the glass on the counter, turning back to stare at Kate.

Was it absurd to wonder if this transformation because of him? Was it madness to hope that it was?

He didn’t consciously make a decision to move toward her, but just as his feet had propelled him to meet her in the reception area on the afternoon of their first meeting, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from moving closer to her. She smiled at her date as he took two glasses of Champagne off a passing tray and handed one to her, but her smile dimmed as she caught sight of Étienne approaching. She lifted her chin and swallowed nervously, as if daring him to comment on this dress as he had on the other.

“Kate,” he said, staring into her eyes with a boldness that her date should have taken issue with.

“Étienne,” she answered, taking a sip of Champagne.

“You look”—he saw her brace herself, stiffen her spine, clench her jaw, and lower her glass, as if waiting to be insulted—“unbelievable.”

Her shoulders relaxed just a touch, but her eyes were still uncertain as she raised her glass and let the rest of her Champagne slide down her throat.

“Stunning,” he clarified in an intense murmur, leaning closer to her ear and pressing his lips to her skin in a kiss hello. “Dazzling.”

When he drew back, a small, pleased chuckle slipped from her lips.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft and genuine.

The relief in her eyes was unmistakable, and it pissed him off. Hadn’t her date—
fucking-Tony
—told her how phenomenal, how breathtaking and sexy and captivating, she looked tonight? And if not, why-the-fuck not? Étienne shifted his eyes to Tony, who grinned at Étienne like a fool.

“Étienne,” said Tony, wetting his lips with a slow flick of his tongue. “How delightful to see you again so soon.”

Oh.

Oh, no.

Étienne’s eyes grew wide as he put together the disconnect he’d sensed in Kate’s office when he’d met Tony on Wednesday,
and
he knew the reason why Kate had appeared unsure of her appearance tonight. Any man interested in women would have been dumbstruck by Kate’s transformation, would be bracing himself to fight off all the other guys in that ballroom. But Tony wasn’t looking at Kate. He was looking at Étienne.

Fuck.
Kate wasn’t Tony’s girlfriend, she was his beard. But from the way she’d spoken about Tony, he didn’t believe Kate was aware of this arrangement. And frankly, from the way Tony had treated her with pet names and kisses, Étienne hadn’t put it together immediately, either. His lip curled, his anger toward the other man so white-hot and searing, he could barely keep himself from throwing a punch.

He had an immediate flashback to lying on Kate’s stomach, watching cloud bunnies fuck merrily in a spring sky…at that time, he’d just been getting to know her, but she’d been like an open book: her heart so vulnerable, so full of trusting goodness, it had terrified him to know that it would eventually get her hurt. Suddenly, he wanted to
murder
Tony.

Instead he wiped the sneer off his face and offered his most charming smile, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of interest. “Delightful. Indeed.”

“Kate tells me you’re a lawyer. I’d love to get your opinion on a…personal matter.”

What the fuck was this jackassery? Kate was standing directly beside this douchebag and he was making a not-so-subtle pass at Étienne? His fist curled in anger, but he forced himself to nod.

“Shall we get better acquainted while Kate gets a refill?” asked Étienne. He turned to Kate, his eyes beseeching her to trust him as he spoke to her gently, “I saw your cousins over there by the bar.”

“Oh, yes. Perfect. Yes,” said Tony quickly, licking his lips again before glancing down at Kate. “You should go say hello to your family. We’ll find you in a little bit, sweets.”

Kate looked at Tony, then Étienne uncertainly, left with little choice. “I guess I’ll go say hello.”

Étienne watched her go, taking in the sway of her hips, her long legs in sexy heels, the way her gorgeous ass bobbed up and down, matching her stride. It was almost enough to make him forget Tony and run after her, pull her into his arms and show her how much he missed her after all these years.

When Tony cleared his throat, Étienne was unsurprised to find Tony staring at
him
, not at Kate.

“Join me?” said Étienne congenially, gesturing to a dimly-lit corner.

Tony’s lips tilted up in an expectant smirk as he led the way.

When Tony reached the corner, he turned to Étienne with a satisfied smile. “You’re very subtle. I admit, I wasn’t sure, except the cut of your suit is utterly perfect and—”

“Does she know?” asked Étienne, in a voice that would slice through steel.

“Know?”

“Does Kate know you’re gay?”

Tony’s smile dimmed, and he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m sure she does. We spend a lot of time together.”

“She doesn’t know,” said Étienne in a low growl. “I can tell.”

Tony waved his hand dismissively before tucking it back under his arm. “It’s an arrangement. She’s my date to events. I’m hers. I assure you, she doesn’t generally look like
that
.” Tony gestured toward her with his chin. “She usually looks like my grandmo—”

“Shut your mouth,” growled Étienne, taking a deep breath as his nose twitched with distaste. He had nothing against gay men—he’d had several good friendships with homosexual men in his life, and his favorite cousin was bi-sexual. What he took issue with was willful deception at Kate English’s expense. “I’m going to make myself very clear.”

“About what?” asked Tony, his voice still hanging onto some hopeful flirtation.

“You will tell her the truth tonight. You will offer her the chance to continue dating you until she can break up with you in some public way so that no one suspects she was your beard.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “You have balls of steel,
mon ami
. Tell me, why would I—”

“Why would you do that? Well, if you don’t,” continued Étienne in a lethally-smooth, low voice, “I will
ruin
you. I’ll do whatever it takes. Nothing off limits. I will dig up everything I can. Every embarrassing episode. Anything you ever did that would mortify your family, question your ethics, and ruin your reputation. I. will.
ruin.
you,” he promised again.

Tony flinched, his face furious. “Why do you care? Why do you even—”

“It’s none of your business,” he said sharply, keeping his eyes locked with Tony’s. “Have I made myself understood?”

Tony’s lips were thin and his jaw was set like stone, as he nodded curtly. “Yes.”

“Terrific. Now go join your date,” he said, looking at Tony like he was garbage. “And before you tell her that you’re gay, tell her she looks like a fucking knockout.”

As he watched Tony scurry away to tell Kate how great she looked, it occurred to Étienne that some part of him should feel relief that Kate wasn’t taken after all. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not until he was sure her heart was safe.

***

Tony was acting very strange.

After spending five minutes talking to Étienne, he had bee-lined for Kate, exclaiming about how nice she looked, then nervously excusing himself to talk to a business associate across the room. Kate hadn’t seen him again since, and she wondered what Étienne had said to him. Not that she’d reversed her decision to break things off with Tony tonight, but what right did Étienne have to sabotage her relationship with Tony?

Visiting with her family, her anger rising, she noticed Étienne still standing by the wall where he and Tony had chatted, watching her. She locked eyes with him, looked meaningfully at the French doors to her left that led to a private, secluded terrace outside, then glanced back at him. He nodded to confirm he’d join her, and Kate grabbed her Champagne glass off the bar and wove through the crowd toward the French doors. If she was going to demand answers from him, she didn’t want an audience.

The cool air was welcome after the warmth of the ballroom, and Kate placed her glass on the cement balustrade before her, waiting to hear Étienne’s footsteps behind her. It didn’t take long. When she heard the doors latch closed, she turned to face him.

The terrace was very intimate suddenly—about the length of the doors that led back inside and through sheer curtains, light from the ballroom warmed the small space. Ivy vines grew along the brick of the building and drooped prettily over the doors like a garland, which framed the beauty of Étienne Rousseau standing before her in the scarce moonlight and ambient city light. It fleetingly occurred to Kate that aside from his office and hers, it was the first time they’d been alone for a reason other than business since the night they’d lost their virginity to each other, and her breath caught from the sudden rush of memory. His skin, his smell, the noises he made in the back of his throat, the low rumble of his laugh, the reverent touch of his fingertips against her—

“No,” she said softly, swaying toward him, then away. Trying to ignore the fierce beating of her heart, she leaned back against the balustrade and raised an eyebrow.

“No?” he asked, holding back a slight smile, reading her face like a book.

She wetted her lips nervously and lifted her chin. Étienne leaned back against the closed doors, staring at her, waiting.

“What did you and Tony talk about?” she asked, hating the breathlessness of her voice.

“His sexual orientation.”

Kate blinked
. “His what?”

“We talked about the fact that he’s gay.”

“He’s not,” hissed Kate, her heart ramping into an uncomfortably fast rhythm that made her press a palm to her chest. She turned away from Étienne, her denial still heavy in the air between them even as puzzle pieces fit together beautifully in Kate’s mind—the lack of passionate kisses, the comfortable repoire between them, his tepid reaction to her sexier outfit tonight. He’d confused her with his solicitous interest, his pet names and flowers, and chaste—but persistent—kisses. But it all made sense now. She’d been dating a gay man.

She lifted her eyes to Étienne, struggling to maintain some shred of dignity. “He’s not. He’s…”

“He is,” said Étienne firmly. “He’s using you, Kate.”

Kate winced, her breath hitching with surprise and humiliation. Of all the people in the world to out her boyfriend and make a fool of Kate, it
had
to be Étienne, the other man who’d used her and forgotten her. Cursing fate, she shook her head, blinking furiously, finally turning to Étienne.

“What an amusing anecdote for you,” she said through quick, angry breaths.

“I take no pleasure in this,” he said softly.

“Of course you do! You hate my cousins. You hate me,” she gasped. “The only way someone like Tony could ever be interested in someone like me is if he was gay. Is that about right? The only reason he’d date me is to use me, right?”

Étienne flinched, narrowing his eyes and taking a step toward her.

“I am
barely
holding it together,” he warned her. “Don’t you
dare
tell me what I think or how I feel, Kathryn Grey.”

As her full name rolled off his tongue so easily, she blinked back tears, taking a step toward him, bowing her head in shame.

“He’s gay,” she whispered in defeat, “and I’m an idiot.”

He crooked his finger and placed it under her chin, raising her head to look at him. The tenderness in his eyes was so familiar, a balm and a blessing, tolerance and kindness from the unlikeliest possible source.

Palming her cheek, his breath brushed her skin when he answered, “You’re magnificent. Any heterosexual man would agree with me. From the moment you walked into this ballroom, I couldn’t look away from you, not even for a second. Don’t you see that, Kate? Can’t you see?”

“See
what
?” she managed to ask, though her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.

He threw his cane to the ground and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his arms roughly, possessively. Her nipples beaded, pushing against the bodice of her dress as she stared up into his smoldering eyes, which seized hers, holding them ruthlessly.

“How much I fucking want you. How much I
have
always
wanted you.”

He lowered his head, and his lips, which she’d dreamed about since the moment she’d last tasted them, landed flush and full on hers, hot and demanding. Closing her eyes in surrender, Kate’s lips parted to allow his tongue entrance, her palms flattening on his chest as his arms tightened around her.

Deep inside, Kate knew she shouldn’t want him so desperately, shouldn’t be standing in the moonlight letting him kiss her when their second ending would likely be as heart-breaking as their first. And yet, she couldn’t keep herself away. She whimpered as his fingers curled on her lower back, pushing her urgently against the hardness of his erection and proving to her that every word he said about wanting her was true. She leaned against him as his tongue swept into her mouth over and over again, swirling around hers, making her dizzy and electric.