Saint James, Elle - Unbridled and Untangled [The Double Rider Men's Club 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (19 page)

Unfortunately, the whole empty-headed, conceited crowd annoyed the hell out of him. Restless and edgy at being in this situation, he ignored the hair lifting on the back of his neck.

He was therefore completely unprepared to turn around and see Olivia,
his Olivia
, put a sweet kiss on his grandmother’s cheek.

In fact, he saw the dress first before he figured out who was wearing it. When he saw her face, he almost swallowed his tongue.
Good God. Olivia. Here?
He was equal parts elated and stunned. Until he saw that she’d come with another man, a rich snob like all the others. And until he saw the plethora of diamonds she wore like she’d emptied her jewelry box over her head.

A pungent memory of the last time he’d seen that dress, and what had transpired between them, circled his brain before he could hope to stop it. By the time his grandmother introduced her, Dalton felt like he’d received the gut punch of a lifetime.

His Olivia deserted them for a job with
important responsibilities
to come here and live like a princess and go to endless parties and hobnob among people he loathed. His heart and mind instantly went to war over how she could possibly be one of
these
stuck-up people he hated. He thought she’d gone back home to volunteer for a job in the Peace Corps or to tirelessly work in a nonprofit organization benefiting orphans or the like.

He couldn’t hide his anger or feelings of being duped by a woman he’d come to love even after she left them to live like a queen among a set of pretenders neither he nor Wade would ever fit in with.

“Pleased to meet you, Olivia,” he said woodenly. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten the words out without spitting them.

She froze like a glacier in a snowstorm. She didn’t shake his hand. Didn’t even lift her manicured fingers to touch him. Was she embarrassed by him? Did she suddenly regret all the intimate time they’d spent together? Had they been merely a dirty little tryst of fun until she could get back to her real life and rich friends?

The drunk idiot she was with said, “Hey, do you two know each other? Is this the DW guy with all the flower deliveries?”

The room around them went utterly silent in the space of three seconds. The vapid people here loved nothing better than a sordid scandal to titillate their boredom. They had no problem eating their own for entertainment. Dalton felt completely betrayed by his own mistaken ideas of what Olivia’s life consisted of after she left them, but he wasn’t about to let anyone in the room know it.

A protective instinct kicked in, and he endeavored to keep her out of trouble.

To that end, Dalton promptly swiveled to face Olivia’s companion. He put a puzzled expression on his face and responded. “The DW flower guy delivery? Is that a new start-up company? I’m always looking for new ways to invest in cutting-edge enterprises.”

The man chortled. “No, dear man, not a start-up company.” He guzzled the contents of his champagne glass and added, “You see, my cousin here has been receiving flowers every single day from a mysterious sender. The note is always signed with the initials DW.”

Cousin? Not rich acceptable society date.
Excellent
.

“I see,” Dalton said, but his tone pretended that he didn’t understand at all. “The name is Dalton Rourke. No W in my middle or last name.”

“Well, then it can’t be you then, can it?” Dalton caught the devious undertone of Olivia’s cousin’s flagrant suggestion that it still
could
be him.

Olivia blinked and suddenly put a big smile on her face. She extended her hand to him. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Dalton.” Was it his imagination, or was her voice trembling? And did that seductive tone tremble in fear, dread, lust, or a combination of all three?

Dalton reached out and captured her hand. Overwhelming and unhindered feelings of love swelled around his heart. He may have been taken off guard at seeing her here, but he wouldn’t make it worse by taking part in a scandal she’d suffer for amongst these people.

“My cousin startled me with his query.” She squeezed his hand hard enough that he could tell she appreciated his quick remarks.

It almost pained him to release her fingers once they’d shaken long enough. With no blood in the water, the crowd around them resumed their inane chatter and soon ignored them.

“Bradford,” his grandmother said in a stern tone. “A lady must never divulge her secret romances. Besides, she probably doesn’t even know who it is.” She turned to Olivia. “And even if you do, I say you keep everyone guessing as your mysterious flower sender.”

Bradford rolled his eyes up, but then smiled and remarked, “Touché, dear lady.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” Olivia said and moved past her to allow the next party attendees in line behind them a chance to greet his grandmother.

Dalton backed up a few steps to give her some room, but didn’t want her to leave his presence. Bradford peeled off and headed for the nearest champagne server with a full tray.

He leaned in close to her. “I’d like to talk to you. Privately.”

Olivia glanced at her cousin as if trying to keep an eye on him. “I’ll bet you would.” Her tone was light, but he took the remark as an insult.

“Maybe you’d rather I enlighten the room as to our true association.” He grinned as he spoke, but garnered the expected sharp look from her. He’d never reveal their connection to this group.

“I refuse to disrupt your grandmother’s birthday celebration or give these vultures any more gossip to chew on,” she replied with a sweet grin of her own. “I will talk to you later. Perhaps next week—”

“No. We’ll talk tonight. When the crowd moves from this room to open gifts, I know a place we can go and not be seen or heard.” The delectable scent of her engulfed all of his senses and made him nearly giddy with the desire to take her into his arms and kiss her to distraction. Her use of the word “vultures” with regard the partygoers made him reconsider her feelings about the people in the room. His heart lifted just a bit with the hint that perhaps she was stuck in this crowd tonight just as he was.

“I’d rather
not
talk to you tonight,” she whispered in that trembling tone.

“Liar.”

Before she could respond, Olivia was pushed closer to him as a couple crowded behind her. They moved a few steps further away. The expression on her face was affable, but her gaze drilled a whole different meaning. He thought it might be lust. Or perhaps he just wished it was.

She was close enough to him that he could lift his hand surreptitiously and rub her ass without anyone seeing. Which he did. She almost fell into him the second he touched her. She swayed back to a standing position and took a deep sip of her champagne.

“Stop that,” she said in a low tone, but her expression said
do it again
. So he did. He smoothed his hand across her hip and down one cheek to cup it gently.

“Stop what?” he asked with a mischievous smile.

“Stop touching me.”

He pulled his hand away with a deep sigh. “You’re so close. I can’t help it,” he whispered. “Come on. Leave the room with me right now. We’ll slip out and have a quiet chat. I know just the place for privacy.”

“No. I have to keep an eye on Bradford. He’s tossing back his fourth or fifth drink since we got here ten minutes ago. I’ve actually lost track. Once I pour him into a cab, I’ll come and find you.”

“Not a chance, love. I’m not letting you out of my sight again. I’ll help you deal with your cousin. Then we can talk.”

She pushed out her own deep, long sigh, but didn’t say anything when he started following her across the room. Together they walked over to Bradford. He’d grabbed not one but two glasses, one for each hand, while the server tried to move away and allow others to get a beverage.

Bradford followed behind the server, starting to sway with each step.

“You’ve had enough, Bradford.” Olivia took one of the glasses out of his hand with a bit of a struggle. Her cousin made a face and guzzled the other glass in a single gulp.

“I haven’t had nearly enough, dear cousin,” he said with a gleeful giggle.

“If Grandfather sees you, there will be hell to pay, and you know it.”

Bradford sent a glassy-eyed gaze to Dalton and said, “And if Grandfather finds out you’ve been fucking the grandson of one of his oldest and dearest friends, the hell to pay will be your debt, not mine.” Another wild giggle escaped.

“Okay. That’s it.” Dalton grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out the door nearest them. Luckily, they were at the back of the room away from the bulk of the crowd. There were not too many who saw them exit. He also hoped that no one heard what her cousin had said.

Olivia followed close behind them as Dalton dragged him out the door, down a short hallway, around the corner, and through a side door leading onto a private patio. They marched outside and headed toward the designated parking area and available transportation.

Olivia stayed on his heels as he gave Bradford over to one of his grandmother’s trusted servants. “Put him in a cab and send him home,” Dalton said quietly as Olivia gave the servant an address.

Bradford didn’t put up as much resistance as Dalton expected, but perhaps the drink had finally quieted him down. Or more likely he was faking his drunkenness to get out of attending the party. Either way, Olivia was finally free of her loathsome cousin, and better yet, alone with him. Now Dalton could go have a chat with his wayward love. They moved back into the side door of the house.

Instead of returning to the drawing room, Dalton grabbed her arm gently and led her to a door he knew to be an unused butler’s pantry.

Olivia pulled her arm from his before they made it halfway there. “Where are you taking me?”

“Someplace to chat.”

“I’m not ready to talk to you. I’m here to attend your grandmother’s party. If you really want to talk to me, make an appointment like everyone else.”

Dalton was taken aback for a moment. “Make an appointment? Are you joking?”

“No. I’m not. I’m busy.”

“Well, I’d hate to interrupt your ‘busy’ schedule of hair styling, nail painting, makeup application, and shoe shopping, but I’d like to have you explain a few things to me.”

She moved close. “I don’t owe you any explanation about anything.”

Dalton was again taken aback. “Maybe not, but I’ll have my say.”

“Go ahead,” she crossed her arms. “Say what you need to.”

“You left us. For important responsibilities.” He gestured around the opulent hallway of this mansion his grandmother owned before the realization of his words sunk into his brain. “
These
are your important responsibilities? You have to dress up in priceless jewelry and go to frivolous parties. Excuse me for thinking you had something
really
urgent to do. Here I was pining away for someone I thought was off helping charities or working in the Peace Corps.”

“I never said I was doing any of that. I never told you anything. That was the point. And I don’t consider celebrating your grandmother’s birthday a frivolous event. You shouldn’t, either.”

She was technically right about tonight’s party, but he’d never admit it. Not to her. Not right now. Then he paused.

Dalton realized what an ass he was being, but he couldn’t seem to stop until he’d unwound. Two weeks’ worth of pain and suffering along with Wade as they missed her endlessly and tried to get a response from deliveries of flowers had built his anguish to a mountainous level. “Why didn’t you tell Clay to stop the flower deliveries?”

The first chink in her wall of armor cracked right then. “What?” She looked suddenly stricken.

He pressed on. “We waited for you to respond. You had our phone numbers. You failed to call and tell us to cease and desist. You didn’t call, not once. Why not? I want to know. Or were you just leading us on?”