Page 51 of The Unplanned Wedding

Good. That’s good. This is the only way out. It’s going to hurt her, but it’s for her own good. This way, she won’t have anything to do with me, and that’s for the best.My heart squeezes in its chest. I shove my misgivings aside, then nod in her direction. "I’ll meet you there. I’ll get there directly from my previous meeting."

She draws in a breath, then her features smoothen out. "You have the weekly eight a.m. with the sales staff, then the nine a.m. conference call with the East Coast, followed by the ten a.m. review of the creatives for the newest ad campaign, then the eleven-thirty meeting with the strategy planning agency at their office."

She recalls my schedule without having to consult her phone. It’s safe to say, I’m impressed, but I don’t show it. Instead, I nod and step back. "Lock up, Ms. Donnelly. I’ll see you at Arthur’s place at twelve-thirty p.m. The address is in your inbox."

I make sure she shuts the door and wait until I hear the snap of the latch falling into place before I turn and head to my car. Once inside, I call Arthur. He answers on the second ring.

"It’s late," he says by means of a greeting.

Gramps never does mince his words.

I allow my lips to twist. "I think you’ll be interested in what I have to say.’

18

Knox

I take in the long table that's been set up in the center of the garden in the backyard of Arthur’s townhouse. Trees surround the estate, shielding us from the early afternoon visitors to Primrose Hill. The table is loaded with food, but no one makes a move toward it.

There’s a hush of expectation in the air, or perhaps, that’s my imagination? I roll my shoulders, then continue to scan the group gathered around the table.

"You okay, man?" Quentin shoots me a curious glance. "You seem…on edge."

"You need to get your eyesight checkedoldman." Last night, I reached home in plenty of time to make my one a.m. conference call. Then, because I wasn’t able to getherout of my mind, I ran ten miles on the treadmill in my home gym. Then decided to bench-press a hundred, before using the punching bag. When every bone in my body seemed to curl up in exhaustion, I crawled into bed without showering.

Even then, I tossed and turned. Her scent, the feel of her lips againstmy fingertips, her need to comply with my orders, how she held her own and demanded three orgasms from me without being overwhelmed by my primal play—all of it crowded my mind. I woke up with a massive erection that, despite jerking off once in the shower and twice between meetings, did not seem to subside.Fuck!I'm definitely doing the right thing by backing myself into a corner so that my hands will be tied, and I won’t have the option of pursuing her.

I grab a glass from a passing waiter and take a sip, only to spit it out. "Some non-alcoholic shit," I growl.

"I can help." My assistant materializes by my side. She pulls out a flask and splashes clear liquid into my half-filled glass.

Some of the tension eases from my shoulders. "Thanks, doll." I down half the glass, and sigh in appreciation.

She begins to melt away, but I snap my fingers, making sure not to look at her. "Don’t go, I’ll need you to pour." I hold my glass out again.

"Huh, don’t think you want to get drunk,Sir."

Fucking hell.I'm sure she added on that title, knowing it would cause my dick to stiffen. This will not do at all. I manage to keep my gaze away from her features while my arm remains outstretched. A few seconds pass, then she relents and pours a dollop more into the glass. "Thanks." I toss it back, then glance around, wondering where to keep it.

My efficient assistant takes it from me, and I nod. "Don’t know what I’d do without you, Kelly."

Her lips thin. There’s a confused look in her eyes, one that says she knows I know her name, and that I’m not using it as a way of hurting her, and that I succeeded.Fuck.My heart stutters. I manage not to rub my chest and track her as she walks away to place the glass on a nearby table.

"Anyone know what Gramps is up to?" My younger brother Tyler prowls over to join us. Man’s the tallest and the biggest of all of us. His features could be cast from granite. His eyes are cold. His expression is both bored and lethal. Of all my brothers, Tyler’s the one I wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

He looms over the rest of us. In a suit and tie, he looks barely civilized for this gathering.

Tiny, Arthur’s Great Dane ambles into the backyard, followed by mygrandfather. Imelda should be here, but after that little scene I helped cause, rumor is, they’re taking a break from each other.

My assistant begins to sidle away, but when I point to the chair on my right, she first hesitates, then complies. The chair to my left is vacant. The rest of the group take their seats. There’s a general buzz around the table. Otis, my grandfather’s butler, tops up everyone’s glasses—not mine— with more of the non-alcoholic beverage then stands to the side.

Arthur clinks his knife against his glass and the chatter dies down.

"You must be curious about why you’ve been summoned?"

"Why should we be? We only had to drop what we were doing and attend to your summons," my other brother Brody growls under his breath.

"Something you want to share with the table?" Arthur arches an eyebrow in his direction.

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