She pauses, turns to me, "Is he trapping you or himself?"
"I don’t know."
"Saint doesn’t do anything unless he’s completely sure of it."
"He’s doing this to get revenge."
"For what?"
"For…" Should I tell her? Should I? "For crawling under his skin, for distracting him… I don’t know." I rake my fingers through my hair. "He wants to punish me."
"And would that be so bad?"
I blink. "Are you implying what I think you are?"
"Don’t let my age and gray hair distract you."
My mouth opens and closes… "You mean…you are…into the same lifestyle as the Seven?"
"I’ve known them since they were boys. They’ve been through a lot, each of them… They’ve each found their ways to cope. And while I don’t necessarily condone it… I realize it’s one way of coming to terms, to find balance in their lives."
"That doesn’t answer my question."
"Which was?"
"Uh… Are you into the S&M stuff as well?"
"Maybe I am…" She raises her shoulder. "Maybe I am not. What difference does it make? After all, it’s not me who has a marriage proposal from someone who means more to me than I am letting on."
She strolls forward.
I turn, follow in her wake. Jeez… What the hell was that all about? What does she even mean? Is she that privy to the private lives of the Seven…and their friends? Does she know their associates? Business partners…? Their enemies? I swallow and my heart begins to race. Was I wrong to confide her? Maybe Saint didn’t want me to tell anyone about his proposal. But then, he hadn’t mentioned otherwise. Why would he even want to marry me? What does he get out of it? A willing slave…yes…but there are so many other women out there who would be more than happy to oblige. Why me?
She comes to a stop in front of a beautiful heritage building. I glance up to find the elegant lettering that states, Claridge's.
She walks up it, "You coming?"
"This is what you meant by an elegant little spot?" I blink. It's only one of the most iconic hotels in the world.
"Oh, they have the best tea and sandwiches, and after the morning you’ve had, it’s only fair I treat you, right?"
I follow her up and into the plush reception area. The liveried man by the door does a double take. "Meredith!"
"Dorian, how are you?"
Dorian walks forward, takes Meredith’s hand and kisses her knuckles.
"Fit as a fiddle, my dear. And who is this charming young woman?" the built-like-a-tank man asks. Doorman, my foot. Clearly, he's there to take care of any trouble that erupts. Is there going to be trouble? My heart begins to race.
"This is Victoria."
Dorian tilts his head. "Ah! Good to meet you." He shakes my hand, with a half bow, then I am treated to the hand-kissing as well. He steps back, beckons us to proceed. "Your guests are waiting, Meredith. Best seat in the house for you ladies."
I trail after Meredith, "Guests? Did he say guests?"
She waves a hand in the air, "It was time to call in the reinforcements. Such devious planning to take on one of the Seven needs strong English Breakfast Tea, girlfriends, and of course, cake. Lots of cake."
Half an hour later, I lean back, "I’m stuffed." I pat my lips with my napkin.
Amelie pushes the tiered cake stand toward me. "But you haven’t had the scones yet."
I stare at the shortcake-like baked goodies. A groan wells up my throat, "But—"
"You must." Summer plops one of the rectangular delights onto my plate.
"I can’t."
"You can do this." Amelia’s lips quirk.
Jace's wife, Sienna leans forward, pats me on the shoulder. "It’s good for you."
I glance around at the faces of the women I’ve come to count as family. I’ve known them for only a few weeks, and yet, each of them has gone out of her way to make me feel welcome here. They had accepted me into their little circle…no questions asked. How rare is that?
"If you insist..."
"We do." Meredith nods.
"If Karma were here, she’d say 'if you incest.'" Amelie snickers.
Summer chuckles, "That girl has a sense of humor that would be more in keeping with the sensibilities of a teenage boy."
"Such non-sequiturs." Amelie tosses her head. "Honestly, she is going to get into trouble for it someday."
Summer’s features firm, "What the hell is she doing in Sicily anyway? Why can’t she come back? I can’t help but get the feeling that she’s not telling the entire truth."
My pulse thuds at my temples. "But she is fine, right?" I pat some clotted cream and strawberry jam onto my plate.
Summer’s forehead furrows. "She’s been messaging me, but…"
"But?"
"The messages are not like her. I mean, she tells me that she’s okay, and that, in itself is weird. No jokes, no puns, no sarcasm.” She looks around the table. "Have you ever known Karma to speak without resorting to some underhanded acerbic quote?"
The others shake their head.
"Maybe… Uh, it’s the man she’s with?" I slice the scone, then lather some of the cream onto the flaky surface, followed by a dab of jam. "Perhaps he’s changing her?" I bite into the scone.
Amelie quirks her eyebrow, "Is Saint changing you?"
The bite of scone goes down the wrong way. I cough.
Summer hands me a glass of water and I down it.
"So, what’s the latest between the two of you?" Isla pipes up.
I place the glass back on the table, then reach for the rest of the scone. "These are good."
"Don’t change the topic," Amelie pouts.
"Let the girl have some tea." Meredith pours me a cup. "Milk?"
"I like it black."
She hands me the cup. I sip from it and the slightly acrid, bitter yet sensual taste of tea fills my senses. Almost as potent as his scent. The man who has turned my world upside down. I glance up, to find five faces turned in my direction. "What?"
"You’re falling for him, huh?" Summer’s brow furrows.
"No." I place the high-grade china carefully back in the saucer. Then survey the features of
