Page 40 of Reckless King

My skin prickles at the implication, but I maintain my composure. “I hope it’s mutually beneficial.”

Tate clears his throat. “You may find it hard to believe, Mom, but Violet’s doing me a favor. Not everyone wants to spend their evenings drinking overpriced wine and mingling with the rich and bored.” His tone is light, but there’s no missing the thread of sarcasm.

Mrs. King’s gaze flicks toward her youngest son, an unreadable expression crossing her face. “As long as you both get what you need from this… partnership. I hope you enjoy your evening, Violet. As well as your time with the King family.”

With that, she gracefully moves away to mingle with other guests. My shoulders sag a little after she’s gone.

Delilah leans over and gives me a reassuring smile. “Try not to let her bother you. That’s Beverly King in all her glory. You get used to it.”

“I suppose I won’t really have to worry about getting used to it,” I respond.

She cocks her head. “I suppose not. How are you doing, by the way? I know it’s not easy being thrust into this kind of environment.”

Relief that she’s aware of the situation and I can talk to her about it washes over me. “It’s a little nerve-racking. I’m not sure that I’ll fit in, and I can’t help but worry that people will see straight through us. I want to do a good job; I just don’t know if I can.”

“You’ll do just fine. In fact, a little discomfort probably works in your favor. It’s obvious to everyone that the women Tate has let himself be with weren’t ever going to capture his heart. It’s more believable that he’d fall for someone outside his usualcircles, a woman who challenges him to think and feel differently than he has before.”

I can’t help but look at Cole on her other side, his arm draped over the back of her chair, hand brushing her shoulder, as if he can’t abide not touching her. Is she talking from personal experience? I stifle my curiosity. Even if she is, she isn’t talking about reality here. She’s discussing the believability of our act.

I smile at her. “That’s good, then. Now Tate and I just have to make it convincing that we like one another. If we can do that, then we should be good to go.”

Her brow furrows. “You don’t like Tate?”

“Oh, no, no. Um…” I cringe inside. Why did I say that? He’s her future brother-in-law, after all. I glance at Tate, relieved to find him busy talking to his brothers. “Dislike isn’t the right word. It’s more… I don’t really have anything in common with him. And I guess he didn’t make the greatest first impression. That’s all.” I almost stumble over my words in my hurry to reassure her, just in case she thinks I’m not taking this seriously. “It doesn’t mean I’m not fully committed to helping him with this situation.”

She tilts her head, her lovely green eyes assessing. Then she smiles a small, almost knowing smile. “Considering it’s Tate, I can only imagine what kind of impression he made.” She leans forward, lowering her voice. “Just… don’t let a bad first impression color your opinion too much. If you can let go of that, then I think he’ll show you the kind of man he really is.” Her knowing smile turns a little wicked. “Of course, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give him hell if he’s being obnoxious.”

I grin back. “I think I can manage that.”

Delilah turns the conversation to other topics, and after a glass of a deliciously crisp white wine, which Tate pours for me, most of my misgivings have dissipated. This isn’t so bad. Delilah is sweet and funny, and the conversation between Cole, Romanand Tate about their latest venture, Genesis-1, is intriguing. I’m engrossed in the discussion about their marketing strategy, and wondering if I can pick up any tips that can be translated to True Brew, when Tate casually leans back in his chair, drapes his arm over the back of mine and starts playing with a tendril of my hair.

Instantly, my breath catches, and I freeze. I should have been expecting it, but it takes me by surprise anyway. Maybe it’s the nonchalant way he did it. As if touching me like this is the most natural thing in the world.

I school my features into something I hope resembles serenity, not wanting to give the game away to observers by looking shocked that my boyfriend is being affectionate. In fact, I go one better and lean farther back so his arm is basically around my shoulders.

He turns to me, and I give him a smile that sayssee? I can play this just as well as you.

His lips quirk up, but without a word to me, he merely joins in with the conversation again. Except a moment later, he cups my neck and traces circles with his thumb on the sensitive skin just below my ear.

Oh god. If I didn’t know before now that the spot he’s caressing is an erogenous zone, I do now. The slow circles he’s drawing have goose bumps erupting over every inch of me, and before I can help myself, I shiver. Unfortunately, he catches my reaction, his thumb pausing for a fraction of a second before starting up again, even slower and more sensuously this time. He knows exactly what his touch is capable of.

I grit my teeth as my pulse quickens and my nipples tighten and rasp against the material of my dress. Willing myself to ignore the sensations he’s drawing out of me, I focus extra hard on the conversation.

“The higher profile the groundbreaking ceremony, the better,” Tate is saying. “The media buzz and social media posts will get people talking. We can bring in key stakeholders. Even invite celebrities and maybe a few dignitaries. Make it a day-long event. We’ve already got the team working on VR tours based on the architectural renderings. We could have booths set up to allow people to check out the finished product at the actual site.”

Roman, mouth fixed in a skeptical frown, drums his fingertips on the table. “Don’t you think that’s a bit gimmicky?”

“A few years ago, yeah,” Tate responds, lounged back in his chair, his arm still draped across mine and his thumb still moving, threatening to distract me completely. “But in this day and age, gimmicks sell, especially to younger age groups. If our primary target is the younger, more socially conscious demographic, then this is how we attract them. We can’t underestimate the impact of social media these days.”

“I’m not underestimating it. I just want to ensure we’re staying on brand,” Roman continues, his tone measured. “Genesis-1 is about luxury and sustainability, not just flashy events.”

“We don’t want to put off our secondary target markets either,” Cole says. “Affluent professionals and international buyers might not look favorably on a media circus.”

Tate’s thumb stops moving, and his hand tightens around my neck as he leans forward. I don’t hear the words he speaks to his brothers, though, because the grip he has on me sends heat flaring up my spine.

Before I can wrap my head aroundthatreaction, Delilah breaks into the conversation. “Why don’t we shelve the work discussion?” she asks, though it’s more of a strong suggestion than a question. “You can do that at the office on Monday. There are dozens of people here waiting for a moment to talk to one ofyou. Plus,” she lowers her voice, “I thought the whole idea was for Tate and Violet to be seen together.”

Roman scrubs his hand over his chin. “You’re right. I saw Carl Masters when I got here. He’s been wanting to discuss increasing his investment in the King Group. I should catch up with him. He and his wife never stay long at these events.” He stands and regards Tate and me like he has something to say, but he just nods at us, then walks away.

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