Don’t forget the lust. Because when he dropped that first ‘Daddy’? I was done for.
“Food is ready.” Pike’s deep voice covers me like a favorite comforting blanket.
“Well, you don’t have to tell me twice. I could eat a horse.” Murphy slaps her hands on her knees and is on her feet. She saunters past Pike, brushing against him with a flirty smile. He remains stone still. Those fingertips of his on my shoulder nearly pin me in place, they feel so heavy.
“We think Murphy has a hollow leg.” I force a smile and Pike regards me intently.
“I remember. She once ate six crèmes brûlées in one sitting. I recall your friends quite well, Caramia. Although Adam is new.”
His attention to detail always astounded me. He remembers the most subtle things. I could never get away with anything when he lived with us. Not that I was all that mischievous, but even if I was, I knew from the first weeks with my stepfather there would be no putting anything over on this man.
“Adam’s been around. He just didn’t come to the house. Mom didn’t like his family. You know how that goes with her.” I swallow hard as Pike lifts his fingertips and grazes my cheek.
“I do remember that, yes. She has her ways.”
Pike is also eternally polite and diplomatic. He’s Switzerland in more ways than one.
I rub my fingers over my eyebrows, trying to make peace with how we are here chatting like distant cousins after what just happened. In his usual fashion, Pike picks up on my distress.
“Princess.” He lowers his voice, shifts around in front of me and crouches down, his hands coming to rest on top of my knees. “Tell me what you are thinking.”
I glance over to see my friends all filling their plates with heaps of gourmet food. The staff are fawning all over them as they serve and smile. Pike and I are invisible.
“Tell you what I’m thinking...” I repeat, licking my lips. “Not sure I’m able to do that in less than a hundred thousand words. And I don’t think we have that kind of time.”
His hands squeeze my knees. Hard enough to catch my attention. “We have all the time you need. I’m right here.” His green eyes pierce my resolve and I’m a little girl again. The little girl who grew up without a father. The older girl who fell head over heels for the dark haired, calm man her mother married.
When she wasn’t even sure if love was real.
When thick glasses and a back brace for her scoliosis only served to separate her more from any dream that she could ever be anyone’s princess.
He leans in, waiting for me to give him my full attention before he speaks in a low, growly voice that hits me directly in the clitoris and takes hold of my very being. “I meant what I said. You’re mine. Do you like hearing me say that, Caramia? That you belong to me?”
My tummy does eight kinds of back flips and I nearly gasp out another quick orgasm right here. He says it with such confidence. There is no question in his voice, no hesitation or doubt.
“This is crazy.” I mutter, lowering my head and tugging at the fingers on my left hand with my right.
Pike immediately takes my hands, cupping each distraught digit into the clamshell of his larger, more powerful hands. Smiling, shaking his head. “Crazy... Crazy is us not taking this night for what it is, Princess. Fate and coincidence stand separated by a fine line, but tonight was fate.” He starts to stand, pulling my hands and me up with him. “Now, I’m going to insist you eat. So you are welcome to make your own plate, but I prefer to do it for you.”
The way he says it makes me want to give him what he wants. To please him. So I nod and bite my lip. “You know what I like. My taste hasn’t changed much.”
The smile that opens his lips, flashing the world’s sexiest teeth, warms me from toes to nose.
“Thank you, princess. Taking care of you pleases me more than you will ever know. Why don’t you go sit with your friends? I’ll be right there.”
I look over and realize I didn’t even notice Whitney, Adam and Murphy sitting at a round table, already digging into their plates of food. I laugh and turn back, just as the light catches in the slightest tip of silver hair that dusts Pike’s temples. It is in contrast with the precision cut of the rest of his near black hair. He looks the same to me, only better. How is it that men age so well? He was stark, raving hot years ago, but now?
Jesus.
It’s exponentially hotter. I swallow hard as he sets his hand once again in the small of my back, waiting for me to step forward before he follows. He sends me to an open seat at the table with my friends. I know I should be wondering just what I was thinking, letting myself do those things with him, and I chastise myself silently for getting swept up in the moment. After all, I’ve never believed in fate.
Or that there is one mate for us in this world.
But all those beliefs are swept away by Pike’s scent, filling my nostrils, making my heart beat faster. My insides seem to move around as I think of him as a man. Not as my stepfather.
Could we have really known, all those years ago, that we were meant to be this? Certainly not when I was a child. I was too young and Pike is a man of honor and integrity. I’ve never been more sure of that than I am right now.
When he left, he left for me. Because the pain it caused him was no match for what he felt would be the best for me. Only what he didn’t realize is how safe I felt during those years he was with us. How safe I felt whenever he was near. Then, when he left, the empty hole inside me could never be filled.