The dinner served a dual purpose. On their end, it was a strategy to give the press exactly what they needed—an image of normalcy within the wildly eccentric, insane world of billionaires. On our end, it was about pulling Mr. Longfield out of his deep sorrow and bringing Ursula closer to her great love, a love that had spent far too many years in the shadows of desire.
The table was laden with delicacies, and I was thoroughly enjoying them—at least until I realized that the dish with the bizarre name I was about to put in my mouth was duck. Internally, I panicked. A little duckling? No, no, no. I had one back at Mary Garden. There is no way I would ever eat one of those cute little things.
Beneath the table, however, things were entirely different from the polite decorum above it. Lucius had his hand on one of my thighs, squeezing it firmly, while Killian's hand on the other side had already ventured much higher—so high that I had to flash him what I call the "Ursula look." I arched an eyebrow and glared at him, pretending to be angry. He got the message, but far from withdrawing his hand, he just smirked and slid it up a little further. It wasn't the time or the place, and I'm definitely not the kind of woman who can hold a coherent conversation while being touched like that. But I won't lie to you, girl—it felt amazing to be so intensely desired by men who practically radiate power and danger.
During dessert, Ursula and Mr. Longfield laughed as they reminisced about the time an intruder tried to sneak onto the grounds at night, setting off the perimeter alarms. He tried two more times after that, and it turned out he wasn't a stranger at all, but a guy who had been desperately in love with her in high school and had never gotten over her.
Noticing my curiosity, Mr. Longfield said, "He was a rather attractive boy, shouting, 'Ursula, I will love you forever!' But while he had excellent taste in women, his execution left much to be desired. The foolish boy ended up taking a bullet to the leg the third time he disobeyed the guards."
Ursula leaned her body toward Mr. Longfield and added, "Yes, he was attractive. A bit crazy, but attractive. Too bad I was already in love with another man at the time—the very same man I love to this day."
She looked straight into his eyes for a fleeting second before averting her gaze. I thought to myself, Damn, girl! This woman really knows what she's doing. She just needed a little push.
The most thrilling part of the dinner came at the very end, when Killian turned to his father and said, "Since I'm no longer being forced to marry a psychopath, I want your word that I won't face another arranged marriage in the future. There is a woman I care for deeply."
I froze. I didn't even dare to look at him, doing my absolute best to seem oblivious. But Mr. Longfield's voice cut through the air, forcing me to look up when he spoke.
"Do not mistake my seclusion. I may stay in my residence, but I know exactly what goes on with my sons. You don't need to explain who she is. I am well aware that both of your hearts belong to the same young woman. Isn't that right?"
Lucius spoke up with absolute certainty. "That is correct. And I have no intention of backing down."
Their father added, "You see? If you two can find a way to avoid tearing each other apart—if one of you can set aside his Longfield nature and yield, provided she chooses one of you—then I will not oppose it. In the meantime, while on the island, you two will sleep in one villa and Carmilla will sleep in the other. Do not defy me on this. No one knows the agony of love more than I do. I do not want to hear a single argument between you."
A heavy silence fell over the table. I was spellbound—uncomfortable, but completely spellbound. At the very least, without even uttering my name, both of them had just declared their feelings for me right in front of their father.
While Longfield and Ursula got up to take a walk together through the garden, I whispered fiercely to the brothers, "The answer is no. I am absolutely not choosing one over the other on that island, so don't even think about it. It's your own fault for being so wonderful and... I mean, aren't the three of us writing a beautiful story together? It's like a novel... let's not ruin it. Not now, when I truly need you both to erase the horror of Annia from my mind."
Killian conceded, "For now, I can live with that."
Lucius agreed, "On that, we stand united."
"Then it's settled," I added. "The three of us are on the same page."
When Ursula and Mr. Longfield returned to the table, they seemed noticeably closer. I told a small white lie to keep the conversation flowing. "We were just talking about how difficult it can be to put your feelings into words for the person you love. Any advice on how to do it right—ideally without suffering?"
Ursula replied, "No, I am terrible at expressing what I feel. Just imagine—a fleeting spark of love, a single night with the man I adore, took such a hold of me that I spent fifteen years keeping it to myself."
Mr. Longfield smiled tenderly, fully aware that Ursula was talking about him. He addressed my question, saying, "I am in no position to give advice on love; I am rather clumsy at it. But perhaps when you return from your trip, I will tell you how things turn out with the woman I fancy."
Another silence descended. Lucius and Killian pretended to be occupied, turning in performances even worse than mine. Under his breath, I heard one ask the other, "What the hell is going on here?"
Their father stood up to take his leave and wished us a safe trip. Ursula asked if he needed her help getting back to the residence. In a move straight out of a romance novel, he turned to look her dead in the eye and said, "Tonight I am James, and there is no sorrow out here—not when I feel you close by. How much time do we have left until dawn?"
Flustered, Ursula murmured, "Seven hours."
Longfield pointed at Killian and asked, "Do we still have the Pontiac GTO? The black one with the manual transmission that I loved so much?"
Killian grinned. "We absolutely do. Feel like taking it for a spin?"
His father didn't answer. He simply offered Ursula his arm, and the two walked off toward the garage. Twenty minutes later, the raw roar of the engine echoed through the night. He was behind the wheel, and she let her hand ride the wind as the powerful machine accelerated down the path toward the cabins on the far side of the lake.
I sighed, completely in love with love itself. My heart swelled for her. You know, girl, I hated her at first, and she certainly deserved it back then, but anyone would forgive her knowing the depth of the love she had buried inside for all those years.
The brothers stepped aside to speak privately, leaving me at the table. When Killian returned, he told me, "Lucius and I reached an agreement. Just one rule: neither of us is allowed to enter your villa at night. That way, the three of us can stay in perfect harmony."
Leaning in closer to whisper, he confessed, "Of course, I'm going to break it the second my idiot brother falls asleep. I intend to kick your door down if I have to."
I smiled, blushing furiously, and teased, "And what exactly are you going to do to me? Come on, tell me."
He pressed even closer to my ear and murmured, "You'll find out your first night on the island. I'm going to give you so much love it won't even fit inside your gorgeous, tiny body. But right now, I have to go prep the plane. We take off in two hours."
He kissed my hand, then my lips, and walked away.
It didn't take Lucius even two seconds to step in front of me. "Don't lose any sleep over that agreement Killian just mentioned. I only agreed to it to keep him quiet. As soon as he's asleep, I'll be at your door. I promise you won't be able to say no, or move, or oppose my will in any way."
God, he is so sexy, I thought. But since both of them had the exact same plan, I knew instantly that I'd have to figure something out to keep that island from erupting into a war zone. Still, I couldn't form any grand strategies right then. Lucius had his steel-blue eyes locked onto the neckline of my blazer. Using his hand, he pulled the fabric apart to look at me, and the moment he realized I wasn't wearing a bra, he did the unthinkable—he deftly undid the button, leaving my breasts completely bare. I tried to pull it closed, but he commanded:
"No. You are going to walk with me just like this. We are going to the lake together. Feel the night breeze on your breasts, and when they beg me to, I am going to melt them in my mouth."
Nothing else needed to be said. He simply pointed the way, stepped up behind me, and delivered a sharp slap to my backside that echoed through the flowers. A gasp escaped my lips, and I froze, silently begging for another. When it came, I ignited and obeyed. I walked, savoring exactly what he had asked of me, feeling every perfect rush of the cool wind as if it were his hands. I imagined him voracious, trying to consume my breasts. I imagined him behind me, sliding his fingers over me, forcing me to surrender to his absolute will.
They were so hard, so swollen with arousal, that the mere friction against the blazer made me ache for him to see them, and I turned around before we even reached the water. But he stopped like an emperor, refusing to draw closer. He focused entirely on my mouth, his gaze piercing as he issued a dark promise:
"I am going to burn your face into my memory forever—every reaction, every subtle flash of pleasure you are going to give me when I do whatever I want with you."
And he kept his word. He placed his hand over one of my breasts, squeezing firmly and pulling me toward him. Then he let go, but only long enough to let me catch my breath before doing it again, harder this time. My mouth parted as I gasped for air, and the sight only fueled him. He bit down on my neck before continuing, and then bit me again. He pinned my hands behind my back. I tried to stop him so I could kiss him, but Lucius refused, commanding me to undo my skirt and let it drop...
Out of nowhere, the lawn sprinklers hissed to life and turned on, flooding the entire area. Just when I thought my night was ruined, when I believed the magic of our passion would be broken... I looked at him.
Water droplets streamed down his body, but he didn't even seem to notice that he was completely drenched. His eyes were locked onto me, and nothing else in the world mattered. He kept his finger pointed firmly at my skirt. I couldn't move, entirely spellbound by his primal, animalistic dominance. A single gesture was all it took for me to strip completely naked while the torrential spray rained down upon us. My mind was no longer commanding my body. I could only think of obeying him; I only yearned to hear him say it again: "I will do whatever I want with you." But he didn't even need to say it.
He just stood there watching me, breathing like a wild beast ready to devour me, as he unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his belt.
"Turn around, girl. Hands and knees on the ground, right now."
He spoke with the absolute authority that makes me love him.
I felt the water rushing over me, sensing the very raindrops envied my own heat and slickness. As I pressed my hands into the wet grass, I knew that what connects us is something far more primitive than just being his woman, something ancient—I am his mate, and I feel beautiful this way. I could hear his bare feet walking up to give me what I want so badly, and I knew he would take everything in return—a more than fair price for leaving me utterly consumed by instinct. I turned my face to watch him approach; he didn't even have to ask. Here he comes. I subtly arched my hips. I was going to cry out that I love him—"I love you! I love you!"—but it's useless, he is possessed. His hunter's gaze gleamed a piercing blue. Here he comes, his eyes locked entirely on me, nothing else matters now. Here he comes, he will do whatever he wants with me, always with me, and I will let him have it all. Nothing and no one is going to stop him... and I don't want... to stop him.