Fraud

Smacking him on the shoulder to drag his attention back to where it should be, I lock my eyes to his while biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at the way he narrows his stare on my face.

If Luca is smart, she’ll run the fuck out of this house while Ta

“Can you stop eye-fucking Luca for one goddamned second to listen to me about what’s happening tonight?”

It’s obvious he’s too wrapped up in his own shit to give a fuck about my issues, but I force him into the conversation anyway. By the time I’ve dragged his ass through the topic of my plans for the night, I’ve smoked the joint and feel a hell of a lot better.

It’s not that I’m nervous about being around Ivy. If anything, I’m excited. However, the anticipation of finally bringing her to heel also drives a vein of distrust through me because it can’t be this fucking easy.

By all indications it is, but that still doesn’t ease the pounding of my pulse and the tension in my shoulders when the doorbell rings.

Ta

Ivy’s blue eyes meet mine, and it reminds me of the day I met her. Just like that day, she’s the spoiled princess staring at the broken prince, only my eyes aren’t bruised this time, and hers are no longer i

Ru

You smile.

You lie.

You deceive.

You pretend that you’ve never been hurt and that you never will.

Her lips stretch apart to match my expression, her body fidgeting in place because I haven’t said anything.

“Are you ready?” she asks, a trace of nervous humor in her voice.

This is awkward as fuck. I’m not even going to try to lie. About that, at least. Then again, given everything, I’m not surprised.

Over text messages, it’s easy to say the right things and pretend we haven’t spent the majority of our lifetime at each other’s throats. She’s begged and pleaded with me to help her. Explained she wouldn’t pay the price. And each time she brought up the reason we’re talking again, I’d redirected the conversation.

She will pay.

I’m confident about that.

The only question is how long I’ll drag out this game until the time comes for her to fess up.

Despite talking for a week, I still don’t have the best feel for Ivy. I still don’t trust her entirely either. And probably never will.

It’s obvious we’re both watching our backs because there’s no telling who will strike out first.

“I’ve been ready,” I finally say, doing nothing to hide the fact that, even though she’s dangerous and I know it, I still can’t help appreciating the view.

Really, it’s like standing beneath an erupting volcano. You know you need to run. To hide. To get out of the way of the flowing lava and searing ash. But at the same time you can’t help feeling awe at the brightly colored explosions that rattle the ground beneath your feet.

“This is weird,” she says on a laugh, her words mimicking exactly what I’m thinking.

Offering another smile, I step out and shut the door behind me. “Let’s make it less weird.”

“How?”

Slipping an arm around her shoulder, I lead her across the porch and down the stairs to her waiting car.

“We could fuck on the way to the restaurant. That tends to break the ice, I hear.”

Obviously, I’m not being serious.

Not really.

Who am I kidding?

Maybe a little.

She slaps my chest as we approach the car, her driver pulling the door open to allow Ivy to slide inside.

I don’t miss the look her driver gives me, a feral touch her and die expression that matches the broad width of his shoulders and stocky tree trunks for arms.

About my height, the man is packing some impressive equipment. He meets my stare as I slide onto the seat next to Ivy, a challenge obvious in the stern line of his mouth.

The door closes with a slammed warning, and we’re doused in shadow as Ivy scoots away as far as she can.

Smart girl...

“Your driver seems...nice.”

She shakes her head, refusing to look at me.

“Ignore him. Scott serves two purposes, one of which is to keep me out of trouble. My dad thinks I need a bodyguard and a babysitter.”

Well, at least that explains why the guy was looking at me as if deciding whether I should die slowly from the blood loss of having my balls chopped off, or quickly with a bullet in my head.

Scott is going to be a fucking problem.

I ignore it for the time being, and the corner of my lips curl at the nervous flutter I notice in Ivy’s hands, the missed attempts she makes to buckle her seatbelt despite the full attention she’s giving the effort.

Someone is nervous.

Relaxing against my seat, I buckle mine with a smooth motion, my hands sure and steady.

“Was it the comment about fucking that has you so flustered?”

Blue eyes peer up at me, the latch of her seatbelt finally clicking in place.

I take a slow look down her body again, intentionally taking my time on the exposed skin of her legs. “Nice dress.”

Again, I’m not lying to say that. Ivy looks immaculate in a champagne-colored dress that does nothing to hide the curves of her body. She’s never been shy about that, though. She was a temptress at best when we were growing up, but now she’s absolutely stu

“I know you’re kidding,” she answers. “About the fucking, I mean.”

Giving her a slow smile that reveals exactly what I’m thinking, I ask, “Am I?”

Her eyes flick over to me again. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Or maybe she doesn’t know what to do with me.

This isn’t Ivy.

But then I’d guessed that from the texts we’d exchanged over the past week.

And it makes what I have to do almost too easy.

Flashing me a wobbly smile, she glances out the passenger window as the car pulls smoothly over the driveway. Light from the fire sconces lining the path flicker against her eyes, and I’m captivated by the sight of it.

“You have a beautiful place,” she says.

“Thanks. I’ve put a lot of work into it. It took almost a year of renovations to get it exactly how I wanted it after I bought it.”

Her eyes round with wonder, although I’m not exactly sure why. The house Ivy grew up in makes Ta

“My house is nice, but not as flashy as this. Dad wanted me close, so he bought me a place in Greenwood Estates.”

She shakes her head, her arms wrapping around her body as if that will protect her from the man who sits at her side.

“My dad is insanely overprotective,” she explains.

About that, she’s not lying. I had Taylor look into Ivy’s life since high school, a full ten-year review of how a woman who used to fight back, regardless of how low she had to go to get even, became this. It’s depressing, really, to see her comfortably wrapped in the soft blanket of a socialite’s life, to see her accept such a shitty fate.

I’d expected more from her.

From what Taylor could find, Ivy hasn’t acted up since the day she was shipped off to college. Her grades were good. She never had a disciplinary record. Her friends are all typical spoiled snobs, and she came back home after completing a business degree to settle into the life her father created for her.