Owning Beauty (Taking Beauty Trilogy 3)

I studied his face for a moment. The sun made his short, tawny hair glitter like gold, and his impossibly blue eyes sparkled like the clearest diamonds I’d ever seen. No, that wasn’t right. They were more like the bottom of a glacier: a deep, frigid hue locked away beneath a layer of ice that somehow seemed to be melting the more I stared at him.

I turned away, my heart beating in my ears and my cheeks heating up. Preston was very handsome. Maybe if we’d met under different circumstances… Maybe if our lives weren’t quite so different…

“All right,” I said, trying to clear the awkward silence between us. “I’ll go with you. I’m really not all that far from here, so you shouldn’t waste too much time.”

Preston shot me a look meant to remind me that time wasn’t something he particularly worried about. Then he ushered me down the sidewalk to his car, that beautiful Tesla I’d seen parked in the driveway of his father’s estate the first day I’d met him.

I supposed billionaires and their sons could do as they pleased, but I had to admit that I’d expected Preston to have some sort of driver. Then again, from his suit, it looked like he might have just come from a business meeting. I thought about asking him what it was about, but I didn’t know a thing about his father’s company and in all likelihood, knowing the details would only bore me.

I slid into the seat next to him, letting the cream-colored leather cradle my body. It was supple and buttery, smooth and warm, just the right temperature from having sat out in the sun half the afternoon. I had to admit that I loved the car’s design. The angles and planes were just so masculine, so clean, and the digital dashboard display was just plain nifty.

I watched him plug in my address to the built-in GPS system between the air vents. When he pulled out of the spot he’d parallel parked it, it was like we’d hardly moved until he pressed the accelerator and forced me hard into the back of my seat. The display of manly car-grunt complete, we settled into the little trip.

“I have to admit, this is a really nice ride,” I told him, admiring the contrast between the beige bottom half of the dashboard and the charcoal-colored top. “Smooth, too. Feels like we’re floating.”

“And it’s eco-friendly,” Preston said, putting on a pair of sunglasses as he merged into heavier traffic. “That’s sort of a pet interest of mine. My father owns enough factories to personally be responsible for the depletion of the ozone layer, but just because he doesn’t see how harmful it is doesn’t mean I don’t. One day, when he’s gone, I’ll change things.”

I blinked, impressed. “You’re going to save the planet? Duly noted. Any other hobbies I should know about?”

Preston smiled. “Well, I like sailing. I like the vastness of the ocean, how you can just ride out into the center of it and there’s no one for miles around. It’s kind of like meditating, only I don’t have to clear my mind—the sea does it for me.” Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I thought Preston looked a little wistful. “I haven’t been out there in a while, though. Not since our parents got engaged.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked him.

He sighed, turning down one of the side streets the GPS had ordered him onto. “Ever since my father decided to remarry, he’s been gung-ho about inducting me into the family business—more so than usual. My best guess is that he’s considering an early retirement, but that he wants to keep the money flowing in without having to worry about what a board of directors might do with it in his absence. That falls on my shoulders. Hell, the honeymoon they’re planning means he’ll be gone over a month, and I guess that’s when he intends to hand over all of the control and responsibilities to me.”

“Jeez,” I muttered, looking out the window at the city passing us by. “What the hell are they going to do for over a month, anyway?” I winced once I heard the words come out of my mouth. “Ugh, no. Don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know.”

Preston laughed. I was beginning to like the sound of it. “Neither do I. So let’s talk about something else…” He eyed me over his shades at an intersection. “Since we’re on the subject of love lives, how’s yours?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but smile as well. “Nonexistent. You don’t have to worry about me flying off for over a month any time soon.”

“Not even a boyfriend?”

“No. Not for a while.”

“Girlfriend?”

I looked back over at him and sighed, shaking my head. “What about you?”

He hesitated long enough for me to get the idea that if there was someone, it wasn’t an official someone—or at least, nobody that he wanted to admit to. I briefly wondered if Preston was the sort of man who used his wealth to rent out escorts, but then I considered how attractive he was. With those muscles and that face, there was no way he had any trouble picking up women for free, or as “free” as a billionaire could get away with, I supposed.

“Not really,” he settled on at last. “No one I would bring home, anyway. There’s this girl, but…” He trailed off as he moved through the light. “We’re not in love, or anything. She doesn’t respect my boundaries. I called it off a few weeks ago, but she still got her claws in me. I have a feeling it’s going to get messy.”

I was surprised he was being so honest with me. Surprised, and impressed. Preston was inspiring a lot of that in me lately. Maybe I’d finally found a family member who gave a shit about someone other than themselves.

“If you’re not happy, it’s better to cut things off now. Cold turkey,” I assured him, dispensing my first piece of possibly-unsolicited sisterly advice. “The longer you drag things out, the worse it will be in the end. If she’s as bad at reading your intentions as you say, then giving her any hope might seem like some kind of promise. And next thing you know, you’re screwed.”

Preston nodded slowly. I could tell by the way the muscle twitched in his jaw that he was mulling over everything I’d just said. “You know, I was thinking the exact same thing. Still, it’s hard to let someone down like that, especially when you think they might go off the deep end the moment you do.”

“It’s better either way,” I said. “Trust me. I’ve lived through it. I know.”

It was true. My last relationship had ended badly. We’d been together two years, and they were the most hellish of my life. Sometimes I couldn’t figure out which was more abusive: Tyler—my ex—or my job.

Former job, I reminded myself as my apartment building came into view. The trip hadn’t lasted very long. It really put into perspective what a roundabout way the bus took. All this family bonding has been great and everything, but don’t forget: you’re still screwed.

As soon as Preston put the Tesla into park, I could feel a panic attack swelling in my chest. I sat still for a moment, trying not to think about how bad things were, how this might be the last month I’d spend living in my upstairs apartment. I felt sick to my stomach suddenly, like I was going to throw up, but then Preston put his hand over mine and I gasped out loud.

“Are you okay?” he asked me.

I turned. His face was so close to mine that I could smell his cologne. There was something luxurious and silken about it, maybe Givenchy or Clive Christian. The latter wouldn’t surprise me. It was the most expensive cologne in the world, but someone like Preston Harvey could certainly afford it.

Right now, I wasn’t thinking about his money. I was thinking about the flash of his eyes, the sharp cut of his jaw, the soft strength of his hand holding mine. On some strange instinct, I lifted my thumb out from beneath his palm and caressed the backs of his fingers, brushing the pad down from his knuckles to the tips of his nails.

He didn’t move his hand away, nor did he tear his eyes from mine. There was comfort in his embrace, but the longer our hands remained entwined, the more I felt that solace shift to something more.

Something darker. Something more heated. Something that I wasn’t sure if it terrified me, or if it gave me the greatest thrill I?

?d ever known.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been appropriate. I removed my hand from his grasp and used it to brush my hair out of my face. “I’m fine,” I lied, sighing as the offending strand fell back into my eyes only a moment later.

Preston lifted his hand then, the same one he’d used to hold mine, and swept my hair back into place for me this time. His fingertips trailed down the side of my neck when he did so and I felt him leave goosebumps in his wake.

“I’ll walk you up,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I stepped out of the car, sucking in a breath of reality. Everything that had happened inside of it seemed laughably strange now, and I was reminded of my situation all-too-clearly once we began to mount the stairs. Obviously, I’d just been desperate for some kindness, which Preston had provided. I was in a low place, and I’d let my emotional needs get the better of me. He was my stepbrother, or he soon would be, and there was no way anything romantic was happening between us. The poor guy was probably wondering what the hell kind of damaged goods he was letting into his family with the way I’d just behaved.