All my life my father has used that word. The contract needs to be fulfilled. The contract needs to be negotiated. The contract has been violated.
Violated. I have only ever heard that mentioned once and it was the day Nick left. Right before we turned eighteen.
Vincent squints his eyes at me. As if he’s suspicious. And that immediately makes me suspicious. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, you say you’re my promise. Aren’t there contracts in place for promises?”
“Harper,” he says in a tone that comes off as admonishing. “Promising girls to men on their eighteenth birthdays isn’t even legal. Why would we need a contract that can’t be upheld?”
I can think of a dozen reasons right off the top of my head. But the most obvious is to hold it over someone when they screw up. See, one might say, I have your daughter promised to blahedy-blah. That was a nice match, hmm? But if you don’t fulfill your end of the deal, she gets a fifty-year-old pervert from this pile of filth here.
“I dunno,” I say instead. It’s obvious there are things going on with this little… arrangement… that no one is going to tell me. I mean, come on. Vincent is identical to my dream guy, only he’s not insane and he’s not a killer. He’s filthy rich, he’s got some sort of sway in the Company, and if I’m his wife, I go from little girl to powerful woman in one breath.
It’s like…
Wow.
His fingers stroke the underside of my wrist as he waits for me to finish, but the sudden tingle that runs through my body steals my words.
I look down at his touches and then look up at his brilliant green eyes. They are smiling. “Hmmm?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Why do you look so flushed?” he prods.
He must know why because he takes it one step further and picks up a strawberry from the small bowl of fruit on the side of my plate and touches it to my lips. I open them, unsure what choice I have, and take a bite.
The juice drips onto my lips and then he stands up and leans over the table and licks it off.
I blink up at him.
And then his hands are on my face and his tongue is on my mouth. His tongue is sweet from the champagne, and gentle as he teases me to see how far I’ll go.
I really don’t want to go far at all, but the trouble is, I don’t know how to say no. I have so little experience with men. James is the kind of guy who tells you want you need, even if you don’t want it. And I like to follow orders. I do it automatically.
Vincent must know this. He’s probably taking advantage of the fact that I’m so easily manipulated.
But as soon as that thought manifests, he pulls back. “What’s wrong?” he says, leaning a little farther in so he can breathe the words into my ear. “You don’t like it?”
I didn’t have a chance to wonder if I liked it. “I’m sorry, I just… I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here.” I inhale deeply and his scent fills my nose. It’s something I’ve never smelled before. It makes my mind swirl.
He leans back and takes his seat again. “Eating,” he says simply. “I thought you might like a bite of fruit before we started with the main meal.”
I bite my lip a little. “It was the kiss, that’s all. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing when you kiss me.”
This makes him chuckle and I hate myself for thinking it’s a nice rumbling sound. I picture James making that same noise when I lie on his chest in bed. “You can kiss me back, Harper.”
I press my lips together and swallow.
“You can tell me no.”
I stare into Vincent’s eyes. The eyes that remind me of James. How do two men look so much alike? And how is it fair that I’m having trouble understanding why this man, who looks exactly like the man I love, is not him? Especially when I ache so badly for his comforting touch and bossing ways. I don’t like to be in control of things. I’m not good at it. I have panic attacks, and I don’t think straight. I’m a fighter because I was conditioned that way by my brother. But that’s just me on the outside. The girl on the inside is so very, very weak.
“I’m not very good at saying no.”
“That’s because you want to say yes, Harp.”
The nickname jolts me out of my little trance. He’s so familiar with me. “Did you watch me every year, like James did? Did you come for my birthdays and watch me from afar?”
“God.” Vincent laughs louder this time. “I can’t believe that freak did that shit. It’s so sick.”
“What?” I’m confused.
“Harper, he was stalking you all these years. Your father was paranoid that he’d just steal you away or kill you in your sleep.”
“What? That makes no sense. James loves me. My father sent him a plane ticket to wherever we were anchored for the party. He was just never allowed to see me in person.”
“Is that what he told you?” Vincent shakes his head. “No, baby, that’s not what was happening. James has been obsessed with you since that first year. He turned down the offer and I became your promise. James went on to become Six. He was captured in some shithole of a country that same year. They tortured him, scarred up his body real bad—”
“Wait.” I put up my hand. “He doesn’t have any scars. I’ve seen his body and it’s perfect.”