Page 11 of The Heiress

“This way, Ms. Sheen,” the assistant says, pulling on my hand to get me to the red carpet promptly. Already, half a dozen big-name stars are milling about, posing for photographs and answering questions about their recent news and the movie they’re about to watch. My mother is nowhere to be seen. Didn’t she want some pictures together for the press?

“Lorde! Over here! Lorde Sheen!” I’m recognized. The carpet is barely beneath my feet, and already I’ve got a flock of vultures trying to climb over the ropes and get in my face. Security pushes them back with some stern words. These paps are ridiculous. Does security think a few choice words are going to keep these predators at bay?

The assistant abandons me. I see her standing only a few feet away, ready to do whatever I ask her to, but right now the focus is on me and how many dashing smiles I can shoot the cameras popping off around me. Good thing it’s something I’m a natural wonder at. The paps are content with a few poses this way, then that, my smile never faltering and my choice words regarding my mother’s movie – the title of which I can never remember – nothing but glowing.

Making one’s way down a red carpet is both mind-numbing and a total blur. You have to shuffle your way down, giving everyone their due attention that they crave. At the same time, it goes by so quickly that it’s like you blink and miss it.

Not today. Today, the red carpet walk is taking forever. Or at least that’s what it feels like the moment I realize who is standing in front of me in this molasses-slicked line.

Daisy. DeMonte.

Time stops. The clicks and yells of the paps fade from my hearing. I see lights, but all they do is illuminate her in front of me. A regal princess. Pure, untouched royalty.

She’s wearing a dark pink gown that’s skintight on top and effortlessly flowy on the bottom. It would be perfectly respectable if it weren’t for the naughty slit showing off her toned legs. You know, the kind of legs that beg to be touched andgrabbedin bed. I had felt them straddling my body not even two weeks ago. They had felt fantastic then. How great would they feel now?

Her light brown hair spirals on top of her head in an intricate twist sprinkled with sparkling gemstones. Diamonds and rubies, it looks like. They match her diamond teardrop earrings and the ruby necklace wrapped around her white throat. They’re probably borrowed from the designer’s storehouse. I bet they’rebesties.

Her throat is too white. You know what it needs? Some love bites from my famished lips. Nowthatwould be a delight for the press, don’t you think?

“Fuck,” I mutter in awe. Daisy is easily the most beautiful girl here. There are Hollywood starlets heralded as the second coming of Marilyn Monroe present, yet it’s some heiress who is only famous for being famous that has me speechless.

“Lorde! Who has your attention, Lorde? Who are you looking at?”

Dumb fucks! Who does it look like I’m gawking at? Am I the only one who sees the stunning beauty traipsing up the red carpet? Idiots. All of you.

For years, my mother has warned me to keep my more serious relationships private. She learned the hard way that the media will chew up and spit out any rumor it can latch onto. In my case, I rarely have relationships that I consider serious enough to keep away from the press. If I’m caught necking with some hottie in Miami, it’s no skin off my back. I probably don’t even remember her name.

This.Thisis different. Ever since I met her, Daisy has consumed my thoughts. Daisy DeMonte. How could I ever forget a name as beautiful as that? The girl of my dreams is standing before me. I don’t think she’s noticed me yet. Good. That means she can’t take off right in front of the cameras.

They’re snapping a million pictures as I approach Daisy from behind. Something has tipped her off, for she slowly turns, eyes widening as she takes in my form. She doesn’t move.

“You are radiant tonight, Daisy,” I say that low enough so no one but her can hear me. Her lips twitch into a smile.Snap! Snap! Snap!So many cameras going off. We’ll be the main talk of the premier. My mother will riot, and I don’t care.

“You clean up nice.” There’s a bite to her voice. Love it. Love her blooming smile more.

“What are you doing here?” Does Daisy know someone in the industry? Of course, she does. Who, though? There are dozens of A-list stars here tonight. She could know any of them. Or maybe it’s her father who knows them, and she’s here to represent the DeMonte empire. She bears that responsibility well.

She cocks her head at me. “I was invited.” What? Does she think I’m accusing her of crashing the party? Because she knew I would be here? She had to have known that I would be here. My mother’s in the damn movie! “It’s good publicity.”

Good publicity for what? Her brand, probably. I can think of a few other things that would look great with her brand. Ahem. Imean me. “Would you like to sit with me? I’ve got a great view of the screen, being one of the headliner’s progeny and all.”

Something sparks in her eyes before quickly dulling again. An assistant is politely asking us to keep moving. So we do. We take small steps toward the end of the carpet while more guests pile up behind us. I do not touch Daisy, but I’m sure the people around us are getting quite the show while we dodge each other’s looks and pretend that there is no sizzling sexual attraction between us. I can see it in her eyes. That hunger, returning.

“I thought our seats were assigned,” Daisy says.

“My mother’s a movie star. I can pull a few strings.” I’ll pull every string in the world if it means Daisy sitting next to me for two hours. And here I had planned to bail after my mother’s vignette was over!

She glances at a group of giggling girls in front of us. No doubt she came with them. Will she stick to her original plan of hanging out with them all night? Or will she join me for a night at the movies… and maybe more?

I feel like crossing my fingers behind my back. Come on, Daisy, give in to your temptations once more. After this is over, I want to take you to any hotel in the city. Your choice. I’ll treat your dress like it’s a million dollars and your body like it’s priceless. Doesn’t mean I won’t ravage the fuck out of it, but I promise I’ll put it back the way I found it.

Daisy looks back at me. “All right.”

All right…

All right?

All fucking right it is.

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