“When I know something, you’ll know something. Are we through?”
She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. “About the wedding—just because you don’t want to hear about it, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away.”
His mouth kicked up on one side as his gaze took her in from head to toe. “You look good in that color, love. Use that credit card I gave you and go find something in the same shade. You can show me later.” He dismissed her by picking up his BlackBerry and punching out a text.
Allie reached over and grabbed the phone from of his hand. She remained unfazed at his withering glare. “Your mother thinks you hate her, Trevor.”
“She wouldn’t be wrong.” Standing, he reached for the phone and plucked it out of her hands. “I have business to take care of right now, Allison.”
“You have to make this right. I know they hurt you, but she’s your mom.”
He smiled, felt his lips pull up at the edges. “I don’t have to do anything. And I think you’ve forgotten your place in the scheme of things, darling. You’re a fuck toy, not my conscience. Now, run along.”
Chapter 14
Three days. Three days and she hadn’t dropped that plastic smile once, at least not in his presence. It was enough to make him mental. And why didn’t anyone else notice? Even Brynn was oblivious to the fact that her sister was miserable.
And it was his fault.
Trevor knew he’d gone too far the instant he said fuck toy. He’d been cruel, thoughtless. He was a bloody bastard.
After he said it, she’d looked momentarily stricken, then assumed that irksome expression and jumped down from his desk. “You’re right. I’m here for sex. I won’t forget again.” She walked out of his office, the line of her back straight.
He opened his mouth to call her back and decided against it. He could apologize, should, really, but he knew her. She’d give him that horrible grin and tell him it was fine, all was forgiven. She’d be lying, of course.
And she shouldn’t forgive him. He didn’t deserve it.
Three days ago, when she gazed up at him at the indoor pool, those lovely blue eyes had eaten him up. He knew she wanted him, just as he had wanted her. But now she wouldn’t even look at him. Oh, she was accommodating and said all the right things, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
That first night, when he’d met up with everyone in the drawing room before dinner, he’d tried to get her attention. But her gaze swept past him, over him, never settling on him. Brynn began thanking him profusely in what he supposed was English as she prattled on about the names of the songs she’d bought with her gift card. He’d tried to look attentive and properly interested in what she had to say, but his eyes kept straying to Allison.
Dinner was a disaster. Nigel had shot Trevor disappointed glances. Allie had just smiled. And ignored him. Mags had kept a conversation going almost single-handedly and was very good at drawing Brynn out of her shell. The girl blossomed under a little bit of female attention. She must miss her mother terribly.
His gaze rested on Allison as she played with her food. How taxing it must have been, putting her life on hold to take care of a dying mother and two sisters. He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine using all of his focus and energy to take care of someone else. Allie deserved a medal. And all he’d done was hurt her, call her names—foul names.
“Why so moody tonight, dearest?” Mags had asked.
“What do you mean tonight?” Nigel asked. “He’s always been moody, even as a little boy. Would much rather play with his cars and trains than be with people.”
Taking a deep breath, Trevor narrowed his eyes and held his tongue. Brynn was in the room after all, and he didn’t want to scorch her ears. He could have told his father to sod off, could have reminded his mother that the only person he saw for days on end was his grouchy nanny who rarely spoke to him. They didn’t know how he behaved as a child, as they were rarely home. Instead, he smiled at Brynn, turned to Allie, and bowed his head slightly before leaving the room.
For the next three days, he’d insisted on taking tea with Allie and Brynn, forced Allie to take strolls with him in the garden before dinner. And every night he challenged her to a game of chess in the library. He’d tried to provoke her, tease her, eventually got nasty with her. She looked right through him. And smiled.
When they were alone together, she would look anywhere but at him and ask, “Would you like to have sex now, Trevor? I’m here for your pleasure.” It was as impersonal as if she’d asked about the weather. “Is it hot out, Trevor? Would you care for some sunscreen?” With that robotic, goddamned expression firmly in place.
He’d been gobsmacked the first time she said it. And saddened. By the fourth time, he smiled coldly. “When I want sex, you’ll know. The way you’ll be able to tell is when my cock is inside your pussy, Miss Campbell.” She hadn’t asked again.
By Saturday, he’d had enough. He planned on taking her to dinner, leaving Brynn under the watchful supervision of Arnold and Frances. His parents were still in residence, of course, but he wouldn’t leave a goldfish in their care.
“Be in the foyer at seven,” he’d told Allie over tea.
“Yes, of course. Is there anything special you’d like me to wear?” She held her cup aloft and glanced at his tie.
He all but gnashed his teeth. “I’m sure whatever you come up with will be satisfactory.”
Clueless Brynn texted and ate a sandwich. How could she not see the difference in Allie? How could she not see through the fake congeniality? It was baffling.
“No.” He shook his head. “Wear an evening dress.” He let his eyes drift to her breasts and linger there. “If I don’t like it, you’ll change.” He flung himself out of the chair and left the room.
“What’s wrong with him?” he heard Brynn ask.
Good God, what wasn’t wrong with him? He was a miserable fuck and desperate to break through to Allie. Couldn’t take another minute of that polite, phony attitude.
At seven on the dot, she descended the stairs in a dark red, strapless dress that exposed a good deal of cleavage, with her hair piled on top of her head. She was beautiful. Or would be if she’d wipe that gormless expression off her face.
He offered his arm, and she hesitated for the briefest instant before taking it. Out front, Simmons waited next to the limo. Trevor climbed in next to her, and she sat as stiff and taut as a wire.
“Would you care for champagne, Allison?” He lifted the chilled bottle and poured some into a waiting flute.
“No thank you, Trevor. I’m fine.”
Just to get a rise out of her, he handed her the glass with an evil smile of his own. “I insist.”
“All right, then. Thank you.”
Nomore—he wanted to shout the words at her. He’d reached the end of his tether. He missed her, the real her, the one who lectured him and shivered at his touch and was fiercely loyal to her family. He had to do something to shake her out of this. Why couldn’t she just say something vicious to get even?
With narrowed eyes, he poured a glass for himself. “Take down your hair.”
“What?” She looked momentarily startled before the composed look he’d grown to despise settled back over her features. Handing her drink to him, she reached up and took out a few pins, loosening her hair. She ran her fingers through the long strands and then placed her hands in her lap. “Is this better?”
With a critical eye, Trevor studied her face and hair for several seconds. “No, it’s not. Put it back up.”
He settled in his seat and watched her struggle to finger comb her hair and refasten it with the pins. Still, she seemed unflappable.
His gaze swept over her new coif. It was messier than before, and he liked it. Yes, he was tired of this phony pretense. He wanted her back. So, tonight he was going to do everything in his power to make Allison Campbell come unwound.