Chapter 17
I land back to reality with a bang—straight into Beckett DEFCON One.
My brothers are wound tighter than a live wire in a storm. Jack O’Connor still hasn’t been found. It’s like he vanished into thin air. James is terrified Scarlett will be Jack’s first target—she’s the one who put him behind bars in the first place. Not that my big brother would ever admit it, but fear is etched into every fine line on his face. He’s aged ten years while I was gone.
As if that weren’t enough, the new Hartmann Hotel is shooting up directly across the square from Caelon’s flagship, Beckett Bliss Dublin. And while Beckett Bliss is supposed to be the jewel of the city, the Hartmann building is already blowing it out of the water. To say my brothers are unhappy is an understatement.
I’m not sure if their attempts to block the rebuild are about business—or just a glorified dick-measuring contest. Either way, I pity their wives and girlfriends having to listen to them.
Security has been doubled. We’re not in full lockdown—yet—but James is insisting that if we have to go out, we stick to Beckett premises where the security systems are basically NATO-level.
Which is why I arranged to meet Livvie at Envy tonight, the same bar we met in before I left for Punta Cana. My eyes skim over the lavish décor, gleaming surfaces and row upon row of expensive whiskeys and wines. It looks exactly the same as it did a couple of weeks ago, yet it feels different. Or maybe it’s me who’s different?
An image of California flashes to the forefront of my mind for the millionth time since I snuck out of his arms, and out of his bed, the other morning.
It was easier than facing a goodbye.
If he were to have asked me again for my phone number, I’m not sure I could have denied him. With every minute of that night, I felt my resolve wavering. But facts are facts—I don’t have time for a man in my life. Especially one who lives a world away from me.
It was the right thing to do.
Yet, somewhere deep inside of me, a niggling voice disagrees with me.
Too late.
It’s done now.
The double doors swing open, and Livvie strides in. She’s fashionably late as always, looking fabulous in a fitted black power suit and an ivory silk blouse that’s cut low enough to render her outfit sexy rather than sensible.
Her face lights up as she spots me sitting at the private booth reserved strictly for Becketts. The bar isn’t busy. Not yet. Give it another few hours, and the place will be thronged, the same way it is every Friday night. I plan to be at home by then, tucked up in my queen-sized bed with a cup of Camomile tea and my Kindle.
Rock ’n’ roll, right?
I’m still jet lagged from my holiday, and work has been relentless all week, starting with a model going nuclear when her Italian marble countertops arrived two shades too warm. Then, a restaurant owner had a tantrum worse than a two-year-old because the head chef decided the lighting was off. And to top it off, Caelon is demanding I drop everything else to redesign the Beckett Bliss lobby, so it doesn’t get eclipsed by the shiny new Hartmann Hotel rising across the square.
Which would be fine—if I hadn’t already accepted Hartmann’s private contract. The Yank agreed to wait for me. A fact that now sits in my stomach like a brick.
‘You are positively glowing,’ Livvie cries, inspecting me from head to toe.
I stand to greet her, and she throws her arms around me. I hug her hard against my chest, then release her. ‘You need an eye test, my friend p>
She slips into the booth opposite me, and I pour her a glass of champagne from the bottle in the centre of the table. Beckett’s Black Label, naturally.
‘Seriously, Zara.’ She accepts the glass I hand her. ‘Sunshine and copious amounts of sex clearly agree with you p>
‘Zara Beckett.’ Avery appears out of nowhere, flanked by Ivy, Caelon’s wife, Layla, Sean’s fiancée and Rebekka, Rian’s girlfriend. ‘Having sex! With who? Tell us everything!’ Avery slides into the booth beside me without waiting for an invitation. She rubs her hands together gleefully, as her bright blue irises dance.
‘Me and my big mouth.’ Livvie’s fingers clamp over her lips as Ivy, Layla and Rebekka all sink into the plush booth, motioning for a server to bring over another bottle and more glasses.
‘I’ll have a Beckett’s Gold, please,’ Ivy tells the server. My sister-in-law is one of the most feminine women I know until it comes to drinking alcohol—she sinks whiskey better than any man I’ve ever met.
‘So, who is he?’ Avery persists. ‘Do we know him p>
‘Have you been shagging the staff?’ Ivy’s eyes flick to Tate, who stands five feet away with a stoic expression on his face. He’s flanked by Felstead, another stern faced employee of Killian’s. Thank God Jack O’Connor didn’t escape until after I landed in the Dominican because if I’d had to endure Felstead escorting me as well, I’d have had an entirely different vacation. Felstead is a stickler for the rules. He’s so far up Killian’s ass there’s no way I’d get to dine with a man, let alone dine on one’s dick.
‘No.’ I shake my head vehemently.
Rebekka arches forward over the table. ‘Well, who then? Some tall dark, stranger p>
‘A tall blond stranger!’ Livvie’s mouth fires off again, despite the fingers over it. ‘Sorry, it’s just the most exciting thing to happen to you since you landed the Varmont Castle contract p>
‘A holiday fling?’ Avery squeals. ‘We need all the dirty details.’ Her head whips round as she scans the bar, eyeing their bodyguards. They’re spread out around the premises. There are men positioned at every entrance and exit—basically out of earshot. Can’t have my holiday rendezvous getting back to Killian.
‘Ahh, give her a break,’ Layla pleads on my behalf. ‘We’re all entitled to our secrets p>
I flash her a grateful smile. See, this is exactly why she’s my favourite. She gets what it’s like to have an intense family.
‘Where’s Scarlett?’ I ask, deliberately changing the subject.
‘At home with James and the kids.’ A frown creases Avery’s forehead as she fills the champagne flutes and hands them out. ‘Naturally, she’s nervous. We all are. Which is why we need you to distract us with all the dirty details of your hot and heavy holiday fling p>
I sigh. There’s no point in fighting it. They’ll wear me down eventually. ‘Don’t even think about breathing a word of this to my brothers.’ I meet five sets of eager eyes in turn.
‘Pah.’ Ivy swats her hand in front of her face. ‘As if we would. Us girls have got to stick together p>
‘Absolutely,’ Avery agrees, nodding fervidly.
Rebekka takes a sip of champagne and draws a cross over her heart.
Layla shrugs. ‘They won’t hear it from me p>
‘Okay, okay.’ I take a sip of my drink, then place it down on the table. ‘I met this guy on the first day and we spent the holiday joined at the hip—literally.’ I shrug.
‘Zara Beckett!’ Ivy squeals. ‘It’s always the quiet ones p>
‘What’s his name? What does he do? What does he look like?’ Avery demands, bouncing with excitement.
‘Never mind that shit.’ Ivy swats her hand in front of her face again. ‘Did he have a big dick? And more importantly, did he know what to do with it?’ She waggles her pristinely plucked eyebrows salaciously.
I snort and reach for my drink again. Looks like I’m going to need it. ‘Yes—and yes. And don’t get me started with what that man was capable of with his fingers—and his tongue p>
They wanted details. So, I’m going to give them details.
It’s a good job I’m not shy.
I bite my lower lip to stop myself grinning like a fucking maniac at the mere mention of California. A stupid warmth spreads through my stomach even thinking about him.
‘Oh God, don’t talk to me about talented tongues,’ Rebekka arches closer again. ‘Rian does this thing where he p>
‘Ahh!’ I put my hands over my ears. ‘Bekka, please! That’s my brother p>
She catches herself. ‘Oh. Right. Sorry. Ha p>
‘That’s clearly a conversation for you guys to compare notes on.’ I sweep a hand around my brothers’ women.
‘And one I’d LOVE to sit in on!’ Livvie squeals.
The Beckett women stare at her. Silence descends. Eyes narrow. Apparently, it’s not just my brothers who are possessive when it comes to their partners.
‘Just joking!’ Livvie raises her pink palms in a silent surrender. ‘Now, let’s get back to California p>
A long beat passes.
‘I thought you were in Punta Cana.’ Layla shifts in her seat, smoothing her hands over her dark designer dress.
‘California is what she called him.’ Livvie interjects, knowingly. ‘They didn’t exchange real names p>
‘Please tell me you at least got his phone number!’ Ivy demands. ‘Good sex is hard to find. Great sex is even harder—no pun intended p>
‘I don’t even think it’s just about the sex,’ Rebekka muses. ‘I think it’s when you find that connection with the great sex. Like when you find a partner who knows what you need, before you even know, because he can somehow see your soul p>
‘Yes!’ Avery exclaims.
They’re right.
That’s exactly it—that connection was what alerted me to his presence anytime he entered my vicinity. Why my body vibrated every single time he was near. Why it ached for him every time he left me. And why I categorically couldn’t give him my number. Because it would be like giving him a lifeline to my heart. And billionaire or not, that’s something I can’t afford. Not when I have work to do.
Avery’s intelligent eyes roam over my face. ‘You like him p>
‘Oh no! Don’t start your psychology psychobabble on me!’ I take another sip of champagne. Avery is not only a former glamour model, but she also has a doctorate in psychology, which was why ELEGANCE, the most exclusive women’s magazine in the US, was so quick to snap her up for a regular feature.
‘You do, though.’ Avery insists, reaching out to touch my hand. ‘It’s written all over your face p>
‘It doesn’t matter either way,’ I remind her. ‘I’ll never see him again. And I’ve made my peace with that p>
It’s a lie.
I’ve accepted it—but it’ll take a while longer to make peace with it.
Especially when his touch is so fresh on my body.
She leans in to murmur in my ear. ‘If you change your mind, you know Killian will find him for you p>
‘If Killian finds him, he’ll likely kill him violently for violating his “little sister”.’ I make air quotes with my fingers.
‘They’ll have to accept you’re a grown woman sometime.’ She winks conspiratorially.
‘Hell will probably freeze over first.’ I tut.
‘You all thought that about Killian settling down too, and now look at him.’ There’s no missing the affection in her tone at the mention of her fiancée.
‘True,’ I concede.
‘Stranger things have happened,’ Layla says, her irises flaring.
Not to me, they haven’t.