Page 7

Jareth

" W hat are you doing?" Zoya demands, stomping into the kitchen with her hands planted on her hips and a scowl on her face.

"Uh, grabbing some water?" I arch a brow, lifting the bottle to show her.

Hefting wine casks is thirsty work, and Bastian has had me hauling the goddamn things all over the property since I got in two days ago.

I think it's my punishment for moving Nadia's wedding here. "Is that okay with you, princess?"

"I'm not talking about the water, and you know it, Jareth. You're up to something." Her hazel eyes scan across my face, rife with suspicion.

"You mean, aside from offering up my house for you and your little boyfriend?" I make a show of glancing around. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Busy," she grits out.

"Too busy to take you with him when he dipped out of here again?" I tsk, setting the bottle aside as I pace toward her. "You've been here for what? All of one day and he's already ditching you for other shit? Some boyfriend."

"You don't know what you're talking about." She lifts her chin in a stubborn display that has my cock aching to back her up against the wall and take another taste of her.

Not yet, I remind myself. Not while she's still tied to that dick.

I crowd her anyway, getting into her personal space. She pretends having me so fucking close doesn't bother her at all, but she can't hide the way she shivers slightly. She can't hide the way her eyes darken as her gaze dips toward my lips, either.

I bite back a groan, my cock pulsing in my jeans. Christ, having her in my personal space, unable to touch her, is going to ruin me. I'll either snap and haul her into the closet to get a taste or I'll just fucking…explode into pieces.

It took every bit of self-restraint I possess to stay out of her room last night. I wanted to slip inside and crawl in that bed with her. But I didn't. Instead, I tossed and turned all goddamn night, worried if I went to sleep, her fucking boyfriend would slip inside.

Maybe forcing her and her boyfriend to stay with me was a bad idea.

I don't regret it, though. Not when it means having her in my space where I can keep an eye on her.

I wish like hell I could have put him somewhere else entirely instead of in a different room, but that would have been too suspicious.

At least this way, I can keep him out of her room.

I'll just conveniently interrupt anytime he fucking tries to go near her door.

So far, he hasn't. He disappeared not long after they got in yesterday, and was gone again as soon as the sun was up this morning. It's suspicious as fuck. He clearly doesn't give a shit about her, and that pisses me off. She deserves better.

"You look beautiful today, Zoya." It's the truth. Her curly hair is wild around her face, and her cheeks are pink. She's wearing a pair of jeans that hug her thick thighs and a pink blouse that clings to her tits.

"Stop it, Jareth."

"Stop what?" I take another step toward her, smirking when her back hits the wall.

"Telling you that you're gorgeous? Imagining your lips on mine again?

Thinking you want another taste as badly as I do?

" I dip my head, skimming my nose along her crown.

She still smells so fucking good. My cock throbs, desperate for relief.

For one single taste. "You don't want me to stop, princess. "

"Yes, I do," she lies, her voice shaking.

"No, you don't." I bury my face in her throat, unable to resist. "You fucking love that I'm wild about you."

"Jareth," she groans, shoving me away from her. Her eyes flash holy fire at me as she darts out from beneath my arm. "I have a boyfriend."

"You mean the guy who keeps leaving you here with another man?" I cock a brow, my lip curling in disgust. "If that's how he takes care of you, he deserves to lose you, Zoya."

She opens her mouth to say something and then snaps it closed again. I think she might be counting. She looks like she's counting. The only thing missing is the smoke coming out of her ears.

Goddamn, I bet she's going to be a little hellcat when she's finally in my bed. At this point, I don't even care if her little boyfriend hears me fucking my kid into her. I'm that desperate.

"You don't know anything about him, and you don't know anything about me," she finally says. "Whatever game you're playing, just stop. I'm not interested."

"Liar," I whisper. "You're so fucking interested it's killing you."

"Is not. I'm with Connor, Jareth. Connor. Go find someone else to sleep with." She rolls her eyes as she ducks past me. "I'm sure you have a whole roster already lined up anyway. As soon as you get what you want from me, you'll be on to the next."

What the fuck? Is that really what she thinks?

I try to grab her arm, but she sails past me, rushing from the kitchen like she's trying to escape a firing squad. I stomp out behind her, determined to set her straight on a few things…but she's already hauling ass through the front door, leaving me staring after her.

"Son of a bitch," I growl, thumping my forehead against the wall.

Zoya Mikhail is going to be the death of me.

" H ow are wedding preparations going?" I ask Bastian, marching into his office a little while later. Trystan is stretched out in a chair across from his desk, bitching about something.

They both glance up at me, falling silent.

"What?" Bastian asks.

"Wedding preparations," I growl, pacing toward the window to peer out. My gaze catches on Zoya and her sisters, who are walking through the vineyard with their arms linked, laughing. Their little brother, Maxim, trails behind them like he's keeping a watchful eye on them.

Yet again, Zoya's boyfriend is nowhere in sight. Where the fuck is he? I scan the area, searching for him, but he isn't out there. That shouldn't piss me off, but it does. What kind of man leaves his woman to fend for herself like this?

"Are you even listening to me?" Bastian growls from behind me.

"What?"

A bark of laughter rumbles from Trystan's lips.

"Jesus Christ," Bastian sighs heavily. "First, you practically demand we have the wedding here. Then you show up two days ago, losing your mind over where we're housing everyone. Now, you're in here bugging the fuck out of me again. And yet, you haven't heard a word I said. What is up with you?"

"Nothing."

"Right. You're usually this big of a pain in my ass for no reason."

I turn to glower at him, only to find Trystan smirking at me like he knows something I don't. "What's so funny?" I grumble, crossing my arms to glare at him, too.

"You, motherfucker," he chuckles. "I've never seen you bent out of shape over a girl before."

"What girl?" Bastian asks, glancing between us. And then he growls a curse. "Son of a bitch." His eyes narrow on me. "Are we having this wedding here because of some girl?"

"What? No. Trystan is just an idiot who doesn't know what he's talking about," I say, which is only partially untrue. Trystan is an idiot, but he's got me pegged to a fucking T. "We're having the wedding here for safety reasons."

Trystan snorts softly, shaking his head.

I don't think Bastian believes me, either. But he just mutters another soft curse. "Wedding preparations are handled. I put Haven and Lucy in charge of overseeing plans. Trystan and Oliver have security handled. And the restaurant is handling catering."

"Good," I grunt. "Need help with anything?"

"Yeah, actually. We hired a new marketing person. I want her to film parts of the wedding."

"Fuck no," I growl. "The whole point of having the wedding here was to avoid it turning into a circus."

Bastian scoffs at me. "We won't turn it into a circus, and we won't film anything important or anyone in attendance. We need footage of the vineyard all set up, and shit like that."

I hesitate for a moment and then nod. "Fine. I'll run it by Nadia. Anything else?"

"Yeah. Who's the girl?"

Trystan cracks up at the question.

My future wife.

I flip them both off and stomp toward the door instead of telling them a damn thing. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

" J esus Christ," I mutter, gripping the edge of the stone bar as Zoya and her dick of a boyfriend stride into the restaurant with their arms linked and their heads together later that evening. He's grinning down at her, whispering something. And she's fucking laughing up at him.

That laugh should be mine. So should her smile.

She looks like an angel in a pale blue dress, her hair in a pile on top of her head. Every inch of her has me ready to stomp across the restaurant and haul her out of his arms like I did yesterday.

Am I jealous? Fuck yeah, I am. She's mine, goddammit.

As if sensing my eyes on her, she glances up, her gaze locking with mine.

The laughter dies on her lips, her eyes going wide.

I can't resist lifting my bottle in a mock salute. Something about the way she looks at me like I'm haunting her is cute as hell. Does she have any idea that I'm the reason Nadia and Teo are getting married here instead of in LA?

Judging by the suspicious scowl on her face, yeah, she knows.

The thought amuses me. I hope she's looking over her shoulder, just waiting for me to appear like the goddamn Ghost of Kisses Past. That's pretty much the entirety of my plan.

I've got two weeks to convince her that she belongs with me, not her dick of a boyfriend.

If I have to play dirty to make it happen, I'm more than happy to do so.

"I have a plan to expand operations."

"Good for you," I grunt to my cousin, Ridley, as he slides onto a barstool beside me, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.

I don't care about his plan. I'm too busy watching the way Zoya's hips sway as Connor leads her across the restaurant to the private dining room where the wedding party has convened for dinner.