Page 8 of Taming Her Temptations

“I’ll try and convince Steven to hand over the clothes,” she rolls her eyes like a teenager. “But keep an eye on her.

“I can handle my own, Mads. Just worry about yourself and the baby.”

I’m eager to steer the conversation away from Ruby. Madison probably wants me to dislike Ruby, but I don’t. I liked her when I first met her when she was still with Steven and I was surprised how much I enjoyed seeing her rolling around in the mud yesterday. She’s a walking enigma who somehow comes across as both out-of-control and reserved at the same time. It has me curious enough that I find myself looking forward to her coming over tomorrow.

But admittedly, until yesterday, I was skeptical of her. Steven controls a significant amount of investments from me and now my sister. I’ve noticed some red flags that I don’t want to bring up to Madison. But when Madison suggested Ruby could know something, it wasn’t the first time I had thought about that either. It all sounds paranoid, but one thing I learned when I first got money is that people will do almost anything to get it. A friend recommended Steven to Dean, Asher, and me, but that doesn’t mean jack shit. He could be fooling everyone. And one thing I learned yesterday was that he definitely had Ruby fooled. All suspicion that they might be secretly up to something evaporated when I saw her reaction to Madison’s pregnancy. While I’m not sure Steven has done anything wrong to me, I do not doubt that he wronged her.

And for some reason, that really fucking bothers me.

“Just text me when Ruby can get her stuff,” I say to Madison, getting ready to leave.

She shrugs. “I’ll try.”

“Don’t try, Madison. Get it done.” I add before leaving.

I hop into my Range Rover parked right in front of the bookshop and drive away.

When I hit a red light, I feel a little guilty about the way I left, so I text my sister.

Let me know if things don’t get better with Steve. I’m here if you need anything.

I can’t help but be her protective big brother. I’ve looked out for her for too long to just suddenly stop. Even though when I found out she was with Steven, I really thought about cutting ties for a while and taking some space. It just didn’t seem like a good decision on her part, whether he was married or not when they first together, it was obviously a messy situation either way.

But then I found out she was pregnant. I couldn’t let her be isolated with a man that, let’s face it, she barely knows. So I convinced Dean and Asher to take a break from New York City and move here. They weren’t into the idea at first, even though it’s only a 45-minute drive from the city. But after talking about it a little more, they quickly realized they needed a change, too.

Dean was getting a little lost in the party scene, always looking for the next thing and never being satisfied. And even more concerning, Asher has completely stopped making music. Which is practically the equivalent of me saying I’ve stopped eating. Asher usually churns out music as consistently as I eat three solid meals a day. And even I’ve slowed down writing lyrics as well. Something has just been off with the three of us.

I think that we’ve reached a plateau. At first, the fame and the money were so exciting that our brains were in constant overdrive with all the new doors that opened for us. But after our most recent album and tour, we all just started feeling burnt out. So when Madison got pregnant, and I wanted to be nearby in case shit hit the fan, it quickly became apparent that this could be a good thing for us. It’s not the backwoods of Montana that we’re used to, or the humming streets of Greenwich Village, but at least it’s got trees and even a coastline. Being back around nature has been much needed.

It’s the people in this town that we weren’t expecting. I thought the world of celebrities was bad, but it turns out old money is a whole other stratosphere of stuck-up. Being at the Rivers house was the first time I’ve felt at ease with anyone from this town. They weren’t assessing us for anything other than my associations with, as they call him, Shithead Steve. And hell, I can’t blame them for that. He does seem like kind of a shithead. A shithead that happens to be in control of a lot of my money and the one person in this world I’m supposed to protect.

I pull into our driveway and pass the Rivers’ cottage as I do. I see Mr. Rivers outside brushing leaves off one of his abstract steel sculptures that dot his yard. The one he’s cleaning resembles a wave crashing into the shore. It’s a striking design and I find it refreshing to have another artist so close by. I wave at him and he waves back.

I’m surprised when Ruby steps out behind the sculpture, looking to see who her dad is saying hello to. Her dark brown hair is pulled back in a bun and she’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. She still manages to look regal. I think it must be because of the way she holds herself, always standing up straight and looking like she might begin gliding around in a ballroom dance at any moment.

Her face looks conflicted when she sees it’s me. Every time she sees me, she undoubtedly has to think of my sister. But we’re stuck together in this strange little web that’s woven our lives together.

I raise my eyebrows at her, as if to say, sorry, but yes, it’s me.

Because like it or not, Ruby Rivers, you’re going to have to get used to me.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ruby

I pull back my shoulders as I walk up the stone path to Rosewood Manor. I’ve seen this house from afar my entire life. Its larger-than-life stone exterior makes it seem like a fortress that can only be breached by an exclusive invitation. And that is an invitation I’ve never received. Well, until yesterday.

I smooth my hair and adjust the skirt I chose from the closet full of old clothes that still at my dad’s house. Levi, Dean, and Asher have officially seen me at my worst, but now we’re entering a professional relationship. So this morning they will be met with the cool and composed Ruby Rivers, which is my default mode when I’m not trespassing or having my heart smashed into smithereens.

I go to ring the doorbell, but before I can, the door swings open.

An older woman looks at me with just as much surprise as I look at her. She’s carrying a mop bucket full of cleaning supplies.

She nods to me and hurries past me. I guess she’s cleaning staff who is done with their work for the day.

I debate closing the door again and ringing the doorbell, but that feels awkward.

I take a step in.

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