She started playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons in her head, imaging her fingers moving over the keys. Finding her balance, her center and her tempo. “Ready.”
“Then let’s meet my family.”
As always, a family dinner was a formal affair at his grandparents’ home. He’d always found it part of their upper-crust, slightly stiff charm. They weren’t perfect, and they were hardly suburban normal, but life with Nathaniel and Ariana Grey had been much more functional than life with his parents.
And after his mother’s breakdown, this was where he’d spent most of his time. His father had been too busy, his mother too ill. And as controlling as his grandfather could be, at least he cared.
When it came down to it, he wasn’t overly thrilled about lying to them, any more than Noelle was. But no matter how stern his grandfather pretended to be, he’d never had it in him to cut off his only son.
But Ethan had what it took. No question.
He took Noelle’s hand in his beneath the table. A subtle gesture, not one of open ownership. The kind that had the appearance of being only for them, something intimate and special, but was really for the benefit of everyone else. The art of performance.
Still, even if it was a gesture meant for everyone else, the feeling of her silky-smooth skin beneath his palm sent shocks of pleasure through him, desire tightening his gut, making his blood hot.
Noelle Birch was slowly driving him crazy. How else could he be getting hard from holding hands, of all things? Hand-holding hadn’t gotten him hard when he was fourteen. He had no excuse for the reaction now.
His grandfather’s eyes were fixed on Noelle, and Ethan knew Nathaniel had made the connection. Fifteen years might have passed since the affair between Celine and his father had ended, but no one had forgotten.
“How long have you been seeing each other?” Ariana smiled at them both and he wondered whether his grandmother actually hadn’t recognized Noelle. Maybe her manners were simply so polished that nothing could tarnish them.
Noelle looked at him, her blue eyes slightly panicked.
“A few months,” he said. “Quietly.”
“Must have been,” his grandfather said. “I haven’t seen anything about it in the news.”
“I don’t always rate the papers,” he replied.
“But she would.” Nathaniel dipped his head in Noelle’s direction.
Noelle cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “Not always.”
“So, Noelle, you used to travel quite a bit.” Nathaniel’s focus was on her now. “What are you doing with your career these days?”
Noelle shifted in her seat, her fingers tightening around his for a moment. “I’m on hiatus.”
A laugh stuck in Ethan’s throat.
“Good.” Nathaniel nodded. “A woman needs to focus on things beyond a career.”
“If she wants to, I suppose,” Noelle replied.
The laugh escaped this time. “You’ll find Noelle holds to her own opinions,” Ethan smiled wryly.
“Good,” his grandfather returned. “Doesn’t do any good for a woman, or a man, to have nothing outside of a relationship.” The look he gave Ethan was pointed.
“No,” Ethan said. “It doesn’t.”
“Drink, Ethan?”
Ethan nodded and stood from the table, leaning in to drop a kiss on Noelle’s cheek. He paused just before his lips brushed her skin, her scent halting him for a moment, just a moment, long enough to savor it, to let it fill him. He couldn’t define what it was she smelled like, because it was so unique to her.
Her posture went rigid and she turned her head slightly, like she was anticipating the touch of his lips, but dreading it. He cocked his head to the side and skimmed his lips over her jawbone, just beneath her ear.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” he whispered, trying to ignore the fierce tightening of his stomach.
He followed his grandfather down the hall, dark and carpeted with a threadbare Aubusson that spoke of age and money, into his study and shut the door. He crossed to the bar and took out two glasses, one for him, one for the old man, and a bottle of whiskey. He added three fingers of the liquor to the glasses and handed one to his grandfather, raising the other to his lips.
“What exactly are you playing at here, Ethan? Noelle Birch? Am I expected to believe this is a happy coincidence?”
Ethan shrugged and took a swallow of his whiskey. “Don’t know if I’d call it happy.”
“I’m certain I wouldn’t call it a coincidence. I know you far too well for that.”
“Maybe I’m in love.”
“Are you marrying her?”
He nodded once. It was the truth in the strictest sense. He was simply leaving out his plans for what came after the vows. “That’s the plan.”
“And you’ll be faithful to her?”
Ethan set his glass down on the bar top. “I’m not like my father. If I make a commitment, I honor it. I take care of what’s mine.”
“Now, that I trust. You know if I do pass the company straight to you what a slight it will be to Damien. Your father has been waiting for this all of his life.”
“I’m completely aware.” He was counting on it.
“He’s my son, Ethan, but I’m not proud of what he’s become. I want to make sure you do better for yourself. I want you settled before you get wrapped up in running a corporation like Grey’s.”
“No offense intended, but the one I run now is larger than Grey’s.”
His grandfather nodded. “True enough. Which begs the question why you want Grey’s so badly.”
Revenge was the easy answer, one that didn’t seem quite right in this scenario. But there were other reasons, more complex. Ones he didn’t like to dwell on. Those reasons took him back to being a boy, a boy with nothing. Of no importance to his parents. Barely worth a second glance if they passed him in the hall of their large family mansion.
“Because what you have is never enough,” Ethan said. “That’s how it is for businessmen. You know that. You always need more.”
“I don’t really know what it is you’re doing here, Ethan.” Nathaniel let out a sigh. “Maybe I don’t want to know. I just want you to be happy. Stable.”
“I’m stable. I know that my marriage to Noelle will make me very happy.” If not for the reasons marriages usually made people happy. If they ever did.
“I hope so. I assume you will want your grandmother’s ring?”
This was a huge part of making it all look real. “Yes.”
“I’ll go and get it from the safe.”
Ethan ignored the slow burn of guilt that mingled with the alcohol in his gut. Everything was working out now, just as he’d planned. The ring was another piece of the puzzle.
He downed the last of his whiskey, letting the fire overtake the uncomfortable emotion that was swirling in his stomach. Everything was starting to fall into place, and guilt had no part in it.
“You’re tense,” Noelle commented.
They were about five minutes into the drive from his grandparents’ house and he hadn’t spoken a word. His hands were locked tightly around the steering wheel, the muscles on his forearms corded, showing his strain.
“Not