Page 4 of Somebody's Watching Me
“Can we ride horses?” Trevor asked, glued to the window when a group of curious ponies chased the limo along the fence line. “They have plenty.”
Ben rolled his eyes while Helen patted her youngest child’s leg. “Stop acting like the imbecile that you are, Trevor. You might be eighteen and an adult now, but the same rules still apply. You are not to speak, or breathe, or—“
“Exist,” Charlie finished, craning his neck as Adare Hall came into view. The massive estate sat smack in the middle of McIntyre’s land. “He knows.”
Trevor wasn’t listening, too busy gawking at the monstrous mansion ahead. Adare Hall’s frontage was a mixture of rock and wood, giving the appearance of it being some type of rustic retreat when it was really one of the most valuable homes in Texas.
The McIntyre himself stood waiting with his eldest son, and as the limo came to a stop, Vivian trotted out to join them, waving wildly.
Charlie couldn’t help but smile when he noticed Viv wearing yet another baby blue dress. He’d once told her blue was his favorite color, and she’d worn no other color since.
A staff member opened the limo door, and James exited, shaking Randall McIntyre’s hand. Ben was next, going straight for Phillip, while Helen made a beeline for Vivian.
“You look radiant, my dear.”
Eyes on Charlie, Vivian thanked her. “I hope your flights were good.”
“They were,” Helen said, ushering Charlie forward. “And look, we brought you a gift.”
Charlie kissed her swiftly on the lips—a delicate show for everyone.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
“Hello, handsome,” she returned, knowing the game as well as him. “Would you like to see what you’re getting yourself into tonight?”
“Without a doubt.”
Leaving everyone behind, Charlie escorted Vivian through the twelve-foot double entrance doors. Adare Hall didn’t have much of a foyer, and when guests entered, they were transported straightaway into a massive room that served as living space. Staff hurried about in every direction, carrying flowers and food for their engagement party.
Vivian slowly turned to him, positively glowing. Being drop dead beautiful had certainly helped him accept the idea of marriage. With perfectly styled blond hair sweeping her shoulders, eyes that often sparkled with mischief, and—best of all—a tight little body made for sin, it was as if Vivian McIntyre had been placed on this earth just for him.
“Where shall we start?”
Charlie nipped her earlobe once they were far enough away from their families. “Your bedroom.”
The flight attendant had only served to take the edge off. His future wife was who he really wanted, and while this marriage might be a business transaction, the joke was on those bastards yapping out front. He and Vivian actually liked each other.
“We have about fifteen minutes before they’ll realize we’re missing,” she whispered, leading him up the giant central staircase. “Are you ready?”
“God, am I ever.”
Locked in her childhood bedroom, Charlie had her coming in under two minutes. He was careful, not wanting to make too much noise, but when the squeeze on his cock had him seeing stars, he came with a shout.
Breathing hard, he kissed her neck as they finished. “Another round later?”
“You better make sure of it.”
They straightened each other’s clothes, giggling when they left the room until they ran into their parents and siblings on one of the many catwalks stretching throughout Adare Hall’s upper levels.
The McIntyre eyed them suspiciously. “Where did you two run off to?”
With a head full of dark hair and a slender athletic build, no one would guess that Randall McIntyre was the same age as James Fairweather.
“Just showing him around.” Vivian clutched Charlie’s hand a little tighter. Her father might appear to be a healthier human specimen, but he was just as rotten on the inside as James. “We’re heading to the stables next.”
“Can I go?” Trevor begged.
“We’d love for you to join us.” Vivian shot Trevor a smile that had been ingrained in her since birth. Good breeding wasn’t something The McIntyre did solely with his horses. His two oldest children were impeccable examples of decorum. “Perhaps we can arrange a riding excursion if we have the time.”
