As if nothing had happened, he grabbed his glass and took a drink, like his only interest was getting me off and receiving nothing in return. He kept me against the wall, looking at me as he enjoyed his drink, sometimes a drop catching in the corner of his mouth. He stared at me like an artist who couldn’t decide what to chisel off his sculpture next because it was already perfect.

“As much as I’m enjoying all this…you’ve made it up to me.”

He finished his drink then put it down. “Watching you come is foreplay for me.”

“That’s several days of foreplay, then.”

“Worth the wait.”

My arms circled his neck again, and I held him close, never feeling safer than I did in moments like this, when his powerful hands were on me, when his bulletproof chest was against mine. “Well, I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

He gave a slight smile, a rare glimpse into his boyish charm. “When we go to bed.” The smile disappeared an instant later, leaving no trace behind. His eyes were dark and intense all over again.

The silence lasted a long time, and we just floated in the pool together, drinking and snacking, the night deepening.

He spoke. “I’m attending an event tomorrow night.”

“What kind of event?”

“Cocktail party.”

“Do you want me to come?”

The annoyed stare answered my question.

“Just wasn’t sure…”

“Don’t be unsure again.” He released me and drifted away slightly, turning around to take a look at the house as if to check on something before he returned to me, standing on his feet so his chest was above the water. He could say something so harsh, but it somehow felt romantic to me.

“Who will be there?”

“Socialites. Same characters you see me with. Magnus, as well.”

The mention of his brother immediately made a lightbulb brighten in my mind. My interactions with him were rare, and I’d only been alone with him for minutes at a time. But with a house full of people, it might be possible to slip away and speak to him without Fender knowing. I hid my reaction and enthusiasm. “I guess I’ll have to find something to wear.”

“Gilbert has taken care of it.”

“Of course, he has.”

Fender studied my face. “Has he been good to you?”

The two of us would never be civil again. Gilbert had taken the rejection worse than Fender did. Or maybe he was just upset that I was back in the house and he had to watch us together. But I actually liked him because he was so loyal to Fender. No other butler would care so much, would be so trustworthy. “Yes. He’s great.”