Sinful Desires: Vol. II

  The car he'd sent to pick me up had also been nice. The only thing that had bothered me was the driver's face was completely expressionless as he'd opened the door for me, and he hadn't said a word the entire drive to the hotel. I'd never been driven around like this before, so I hadn't known if this was professional or if the driver was just so used to escorting various women around for Brock that he didn't find the need to interact.

  I'd told myself it didn't matter if Brock flew hundreds of girls in for various events. This was only a sort-of-date. He was apologizing for his behavior and giving himself a companion for the wedding at the same time. It wasn't like I expected anything of him. He wasn't my boyfriend and neither one of us was saying anything about a commitment of any kind. I had no reason nor right to be jealous.

  When I'd arrived at the hotel, I'd been immediately escorted to my room, informed to call if I needed anything, no matter how small, and then left to explore the room that was almost as big as my apartment in Vegas. It was technically just one room and a bathroom, but the main room had a love-seat, table and two chairs, microwave and mini-fridge as well as the usual bedroom furniture. I could essentially live here and not need anymore space.

  I put my bag down on the queen-sized bed and started to unpack, then noticed an envelope on the pillow, which my name written across the front. Curious, I opened it and found a card. Not like a greeting card but a plastic rectangle. A gift card. Also in the envelope was a note.

  I recognized Brock's handwriting right away.

  “Piper, I'm so pleased you agreed to join me. I hope you enjoy your room. I wasn't sure if you had something to wear to the wedding tomorrow, and since I'm busy at the rehearsal tonight, I thought you might like to have some fun. Use the card to get yourself something to eat as well as something to wear for tomorrow. I'll be at the hotel to pick you up at ten. Brock.” At the bottom was scrawled something else. “P.S. I think you'd look hot in purple.”

  At least I knew what color dress he wanted me to buy. Purple was one of those colors that would look either really good or really bad on me, depending on the shade. With this card and all of downtown Philadelphia at my feet, I was sure I could find something.

  When I went on my little shopping trip, it was all I could do to keep from humming Roy Orbison as I walked. Granted, I wasn't a hooker and I was definitely wearing appropriate, though inexpensive clothes, but the looks some of the saleswomen gave me said they weren't entirely sure why I was checking out pricey dresses in their stores.

  After I found the one I wanted – on sale no less – I treated myself to a matching panty and bra set as well as shoes. By the time I returned to my room, I was exhausted, but happy and feeling more confident about tomorrow. The only bit of anxiety I was experiencing at the moment was concerning what would happen when I finally fell asleep. I didn't want a repeat of what had happened on the plane.

  Fortunately, my sleep was dreamless and when I woke the next morning, I felt better than I had in a long time. I took my time getting ready, enjoying a shower that didn't have squeaky pipes or hot water that ran cold when the neighbor downstairs washed dishes.

  By the time the knock came at my door, I was ready. Still, I gave myself a last look in the mirror. I needed to look perfect today.

  I'd found the right shade of purple that complimented both my eyes and my hair, and best of all, it had been in a dress that showed off my body. Low cut, but far from trashy, and short enough to be stylish without being scandalous. I'd stayed away from the ones with the low backs. They'd made me think too much of my dream and the feeling of Reed's hand on my bare back. I kept my make-up and jewelry simple, understated. If I hadn't known anything about me, I'd never have guessed I didn't belong with rich, upper-class people.

  When I opened the door, Brock let out a low whistle. “Wow, you look amazing.”

  “Not so bad yourself,” I replied truthfully. When I'd first met him, I'd known he was good-looking, but I hadn't really let myself register anything specific since I'd been so hung up on Reed. Now, in his tux, I could fully appreciate just how hot my date was.

  He was shorter than Reed, just under six feet, but his shoulders were broader, his chest more muscular. His features were more masculine and there was nothing soft about his mouth or eyes. He looked like the kind of guy who'd kiss you because he knew you wanted it, even if you never said a word.

  Brock held out his hand and I took it, letting him lead me to the elevators. We made small talk on the way down and out to where a limo was waiting. For a moment, I nearly panicked, was terrified the entire wedding party was in there and I'd be stuck in a limo with Reed and a bunch of his friends for a very uncomfortable ride to the church. I nearly trembled with relief when Brock opened the door and I saw it was empty.

  “It's technically for my family,” he explained as he followed me into the back. “But I kind of borrowed it to come get you.” He flashed me what I could only describe as a bad-boy grin. “I wanted to impress you.”

  “Because a plane ticket, hotel room and dress wasn't enough to do that?” I teased. I didn't mention the other money. I'd let him approach it. I'd already gotten a gorgeous outfit out of the trip. I wasn't going to force my hand, especially if there were strings attached.

  “So it worked?” He grinned at me.

  “I suppose so.” I returned his smile.

  “When we get there, I have to go make sure everything's cool with Reed,” Brock said. He reached over and took my hand again. “Best man duties and all, but I'll make sure the ushers keep an eye on you.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “They're my thirteen year-old cousins.” He squeezed my hand. “I'll have them put you just behind my family.” He paused, and then added, “I'll introduce you before I go, but I didn't think you'd want to sit with them.”

  I shook my head. He was right.

  “Meeting the family on a first date is intimidating. I figured sitting with them at the wedding would be a bit much.” He raised our hands and pressed his lips against the back of mine. “Just so you know, I told them I was bringing someone I'd met on a trip, but I was vague. I thought it might be awkward if I said you were one of the strippers we'd hired for the bachelor party. You know, with Reed being part of the family after today and all.”

  “Good call.” At least I didn't have to worry about my occupation becoming known. My previous connection to the Stirling family, however, might become a topic of conversation if Rebecca decided to run her mouth. I could only hope she'd decide the wedding was too interesting to mess with me. If she did, I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. Right now, I was thinking about how Brock had said this was a first date. That implied there would be more, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

  The church wasn't the one from my dream, but it was huge and old and very ornamental. I remembered seeing it the times I'd come into the city before I'd moved. I'd never been inside though. The architecture was just as beautiful in as it was out and I felt a twinge of envy for anyone who was able to get married in a place like this.

  Brock led me over to an older couple standing by the guest book. The woman was tiny, but formidable looking. She had pale blue eyes like Brock, but the resemblance stopped there. Brock was almost identical to his father. I was willing to bet a picture of Mr. Michaels in his twenties would've been identical, save the eyes.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Piper.”

  I held out my hand to Mrs. Michaels first, a polite smile on my face. “It's nice to meet you.”

  She looked down her nose at my hand, pursed her lips and then shook it. Mr. Michaels didn't do any of the theatrics but I could sense his reluctance as well. Neither one of them looked pleased to see me.

  “This is a beautiful church.” I kept my voice pleasant, not letting them see that I knew they didn't like me.

  “Yes, well, our family was one of its founding members,” Mrs. Michaels said, her tone clearly indicating I couldn't possibly understand the importance of that fact.

/>   “So, I have to go check in with Reed.” Brock sounded a bit uncomfortable, but he didn't say anything directly to his mother.

  I didn't mind. If we'd been dating for real, or this was heading into a relationship, I might've wanted him to stand up for me, but I could take a few snide comments. I was used to them.

  Brock led me over to a pair of identical blond boys who had the gangly look of teens who'd hit a growth spurt and the rest of them hadn't caught up yet. “Piper, this is Jason and Jackson. I told them to keep an eye on you.” He winked at them. “Make sure no one hits on my girl.”

  I laughed and hoped he meant that as lightly as it sounded. With a final squeeze to my hand, he left me with the twins and headed off. They took me into the sanctuary and, for a moment, I was confused as to why they sat me on the bride's side, but then remembered I was here as Brock's date, in spite of the fact I knew Reed. The place was only about half full, so I took advantage of the time I had before the ceremony started and looked around.

  I felt a surge of relief when I saw the colors were a dusky rose color and gold, different than my dream. I was admiring the floral arrangements when I heard a sharp intake of breath.

  I looked up and saw Reed staring right at me. His face was pale and he almost looked like he was going to throw up.

  “Piper?” he said it so softly that I almost couldn't hear.

  “Oh, hey man.” Brock appeared behind him and clapped a hand on Reed's shoulder. “I forgot to tell you that I asked one of the girls from Vegas to be my date.” He walked over to me and brushed the back of his hand against the side of my neck. “But don't worry, I didn't tell anyone how we met.”

  The anger I'd felt at Reed before came back, tightening my stomach. I reached up and took Brock's hand, pressing it against my cheek. Reed blanched and his lips flattened into a line.

  “I'm looking forward to meeting Britni,” I said evenly. I kept my eyes on Reed's face. “You don't need to worry though. I'll keep your little secret.”

  “Gotta go,” Brock said. He bent down and brushed his lips against my cheek. A muscle in Reed's jaw jumped. “We just came out to see if Danny was out here. I'll see you after the ceremony.”

  “I'll be here.”

  Reed held my gaze for a few seconds longer and I saw dozens of emotions flicker across his eyes, but then he broke away without a word, going to do whatever it was he had to do. That was fine with me. I'd at least gotten a reaction out of him.

  When he came back out at the start of the ceremony, he didn't look my way. Brock, however, did and the smile he was wearing made me smile too. If he hadn't kept glancing at me, I would've just thought he was happy his sister was getting married, but his eyes clearly said I was some of the reason too.

  The bridal march started and my chest tightened, the memory of my dream flooding over me. I swallowed hard as I joined the rest of the congregation in standing. This time when I turned, however, I could see Reed's wife-to-be for the first time. She was about my height, but slender. Her hair was the color of coffee and, unless she had extensions, long. Her eyes were light, like her brother's, though they appeared to be more gray than his. Her features were her mother's, delicate and fine. She was a beautiful young woman and I felt a pang as I thought about how she and Reed would look together.

  I turned as she reached the front and couldn't stop my gaze from sliding over, wanting to see the expression on Reed's face when he looked at the woman he was marrying. Except he wasn't looking at her. He was facing her, but his line of sight was just to one side and his eyes met mine. I flushed and tore my gaze away.

  What kind of bastard would stare at another woman while his fiancée was walking down the aisle? I tried very hard not to scowl. That would be rude.

  For the rest of the ceremony, I kept my eyes glued on the priest and a fake smile pasted to my face. Once it was done, I could relax.

  Chapter 4

  One of my favorite places in Philadelphia was The Free Library. At least every two weeks or so, I'd walk or take the train or bus when we had a little extra money, and I'd always come home with a dozen books or more. Then, when my mom had gotten sick, it had become a haven, a place I went to when I couldn't take another minute at the hospital.

  When I stepped into the lobby, those memories washed over me, and with them also came the sense of awe I'd always felt when I looked up at the high ceiling, the beautiful architecture. And then there was the smell of books. It didn't matter if it was a single ratty paperback or a massive collection, there was something about the scent of a book that felt like home.

  I was thinking all of this while the bridal party was posing on the marble steps that led up to the second floor. Brock had insisted I come with him even though it meant standing off to the side and trying not to look anything other than happy for the bride and groom. That was difficult when I knew the truth behind the vows they'd recited. I might not believe a word Reed said about how he felt about me, but I didn't think he was lying when he'd said he didn't love Britni. Guys who cheat don't really love the person they cheat on, no matter how many times they say they do. I might've been his choice, but I had no doubt he would've found someone else to fuck if I hadn't been there.

  “Bored?” Brock came up behind me and put his arms around me.

  I almost stepped away, but then I saw Reed glance at us and that hurt part of me urged me to take a step back and lean into the embrace. Brock wasn't touching anything he shouldn't have been and it was nice to feel someone's arms around me and know I didn't have to worry about meeting his fiancée – or wife – later.

  “Are you okay?” Brock's voice was low in my ear.

  I nodded. “Just a bit of jet lag.”

  “Did you know there's a map upstairs that shows how you can get around downtown Philly underground?”

  I nodded without even thinking about it. “Yeah, it's up by the History section.”

  As soon as I said it, I realized what I'd given away.

  “You've been here before,” Brock said. There wasn't any accusation to his tone, but I wasn't going to risk him thinking I was hiding something.

  “I grew up here.” I kept it vague.

  He let go of me and stepped around so he could look down at me. “Seriously?”

  “Quick version: grew up on the poor side of the city. Scholarship to St. George. Moved to Vegas instead of going to college. You know how it goes from there.” I knew I had to throw in the school thing because if he told anyone I grew up here, there'd be awkward questions and it'd look like I'd been hiding my prior connection to the Stirlings.

  “So you knew Reed before.” He made it a statement.

  “He was three grades ahead of me, but I knew who he was.” I glanced at the bridesmaids.

  “Oh.”

  I could hear the understanding in a single word.

  “You were in Rebecca's class.” He reached down and took my head. “Enough said. She's hot, but she's a bitch.”

  I would've laughed if his statement hadn't reminded me of Reed saying close to the same thing. Dammit, why didn’t everything seem to point back to him?

  The photographer called for the men and Brock hurried away, leaving me alone with my thoughts, which wasn’t much of a comfort. The women came down the steps, huddling together as they went. Even though none of them looked my way, I knew they realized I was there. How I knew was simple. They were talking about me in a way that made it very clear I was meant to hear their conversation.

  “I honestly don't know why I expected anything else from Brock. I mean, I know he doesn't do the whole relationship thing, but hiring an escort to be his date to my wedding is just tacky.”

  Any prior sympathy I'd had for Britni Michaels-Stirling vanished as I heard her speak. Then came Rebecca.

  “It's no surprise that's what Piper does. I mean, coming from her background, it was almost inevitable.”

  I took a few steps to the side so I couldn't hear them anymore, but I didn't say a word. I wasn't going to let the o
pinions of some high society snobs bother me. I knew who I was, and I knew there was a line I didn't cross. I didn't intend to have sex with Brock. I was his date for the wedding, nothing else. Besides, it wasn't the first comment I'd overheard today regarding my character. Mrs. Michaels hadn't even tried to lower her voice when she'd told Mrs. Stirling that at least Reed didn't have to worry about gold diggers anymore and how happy she'd be when Brock finally settled down with a decent girl. I'd ignored her too. I'd had practice. Didn't mean I enjoyed it, but I was a long way from walking out.

  Before my 'fans' could make any more disparaging comments, the photographer called the entire wedding party up for the next few shots and by the time he was done, it was time to head to the reception and Brock was coming my way. He'd already told me he'd insisted we take the limo with his parents so I didn't have to be alone since I was from out of town. I'd hoped that when he found out I knew the Stirlings he hadn't assumed I'd be fine on my own. He hadn't and the two of us settled in for a short, but still uncomfortable, ride to the reception hall.

  The beginning of the reception passed rather quickly, which surprised me since I was sitting at a table with people I didn't know. They were all older couples, which made me stand out, but since none of them knew me and obviously hadn't heard the gossip, I didn't mind. As soon as all the main event things, like the first dance and the cake cutting was done, Brock came down and claimed the empty seat next to me.

  “Would you like some champagne?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I'd already finished two glasses, but wasn't feeling much beyond a little buzz. I watched him walk away and thought about how attentive he'd been tonight. He was really taking this whole idea of showing me that he wasn't a drunken douchebag seriously.

  A ruggedly handsome and, judging by the smell of him, extremely inebriated man plopped down in the seat next to me. He gave me a roguish grin.

  “Hi there.”

  “Hello.” I'd seen this guy with his hands all over one of Britni's bridesmaids, some tiny little brunette with fake nails and awful pink lipstick.