Thousands (Dollar 4)

His wife reached out and took his hand. They stayed linked as he continued, “We invite you into our home and look forward to talking with you throughout the night. You are more than welcome to walk the grounds, visit the stables or orchard, or explore the many rooms at Hawksridge. While you are our guests, we do ask you respect the locked chambers and do not believe such gossip that has long since circulated our hall.”

A slight ripple of murmurs tracked around the room.

A feminine laugh rang out, guiding my attention to a woman dressed in a turquoise gown dripping with sapphires and a mask that gleamed opalescent with moonstone. She was just as stunning as the hostess; only she sat in a chair with wheels wrapped in gemstones and ribbon, holding the hand of a tall, dark-haired man who favoured a white tux over the usual black.

She laughed again, surprising the hall into silence. “Come now, brother. I think the gossip is far more entertaining than the truth, don’t you?” She smiled at the crowd. “Why else are so many here tonight but to hear the tale of debts turned marriage?”

“Here, here,” someone said, raising a glass as waiters and waitresses made their way through the masses handing out champagne. “We’ll happily listen to a bedtime tale or two.”

Everyone laughed apart from Elder and me.

It was as if everyone knew something about this family that we didn’t. Elder stiffened as his eyes locked on the host. Mr. Hawk’s back straightened at the joke, an odd look crossing his face. He stood buffeted by the laughter, and it wasn’t fun for him but painful.

His voice quietened the ballroom with strained command. “Tonight, there are much better things to entertain ourselves with than listening to stories. We have business to attend to, after all.” He warmed to his speech. “Diamonds that are currently for sale with clarity and colour certifications are on display in the drawing room. A Mr. Elder Prest is here to discuss yacht orders with those nautically inclined. I, myself, am available to talk to anyone wishing to purchase a well-bred polo pony or two, and I believe a Mr. Sullivan Sinclair is here to help with any luxury island travel you may wish to book at his many locations.”

With a curt bow, Jethro Hawk said, “For now, enjoy the music and champagne. Make the most of your night, everyone.” The second he’d finished, he pointed to the orchestra who struck up music immediately. Squeezing his wife’s hand, he guided his family off the dais and vanished from the ballroom through one of the many doors.

Elder’s hand landed on my lower back.

I shuddered at his touch; slightly amazed that I was capable of lust so quick and powerful, I became instantly wet for him.

Turning to face him, I prepared to tell him things I didn’t believe in but assurances he needed to hear. I wanted to grant him my forgiveness for all the things he apologised for—not because I believed he had anything to be sorry for but to hopefully grant him a smidgen of peace.

His onyx eyes burned into mine, full of complex love and hate, desire and regret, his voice just as tangled. “Let’s find somewhere quiet. I need to talk to you.”

I took his hand and nodded.

* * * * *

We didn’t get far.

The moment we stepped from the ballroom and avoided perfume, tulle, and finery, we found ourselves practically bumping into our hosts.

Mr. and Mrs Hawk stood in corridor shadows, her hand on her husband’s cheek, his forehead touching hers. Their children were nowhere to be found, and my skin flushed for the intimate moment we’d stumbled upon.

“Focus on me and only me,” his wife murmured. “I told you this was a bad idea, Jet.”

He groaned under his breath. “I’m sick of the fucking whispers, Nila. You know as well as I do this should stop them for good. Kes and Emma don’t need this shit growing up.”

“They’ll be fine. They know the truth. What does it matter what the gossip mills are still saying—” Mrs Hawk noticed us. Pulling back, she dropped her touch from her husband’s cheek and smiled brightly, friendly, entirely professional in her role as hostess. “Ah, hello. Out for an explore already? The drinks have just started circulating.”

Jethro Hawk blinked, shook his head slightly, then hid his strained look with one of smooth elegance. “Ah, Mr. Prest.” He came forward, his hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you in the flesh.”

Elder tightened his fingers around mine as he reached with his other to complete niceties. He bowed his head respectfully. “Same, Mr. Hawk. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Jethro, please.” He smiled tightly. “We’re lucky enough to mingle in the same circles of wealth and decadence. I intend to make acquaintances with all of them now that I’m in charge of my family’s estate.” Turning to me, his smile warmed. “And you must be Pimlico. The plus one.”