Chapter Thirty-Four — Oliver

Although I’d been in Denmark for three years now, I hated the freezing cold of December. Back in California it was cold, but it never cut through into my bones like it did here.

I stood by the window and watched the snowflakes flutter to the ground. My insides felt as cold as those ice droplets. I was supposed to be excited. I'd picked a ring and made dinner arrangements. I was finally moving on with my life. At twenty-five, I wanted kids of my own, and there really wasn’t any point in waiting to get married any longer. Bianca could satisfying my needs enough that I would be okay.

“There’s someone here to see you, Mr. King.” My secretary said in her thick Scandinavian accent. She stood in the doorway waiting for my reply, looking rather apprehensive. “She won’t give me her name.”

“I don’t have time now. Tell her to make an appointment and come back another day. And get her name.” Dismissing her, I went back to my computer. I had deadlines looming and more to do than I had hours in a day.

Work soothed my soul, kept my mind from wandering to places I wanted to avoid. The more I worked, the less I had time to think about Maya and what I was planning to ask Bianca. Because if I was honest, I felt uneasy and restless since I’d decided to take the plunge.

Maybe I’d feel better after I’d asked her and she agreed. It was probably normal to feel this way. How would I know any different? Yet I couldn’t help being a bit disappointed that I wasn’t more excited. I always imagined I’d feel elated when I popped the question. It was a big fucking moment in anyone’s life.

“I'm afraid I can't come back another day. I need to see you today, Oliver.” My head jerked up when I recognized the American accent. Was I fucking hallucinating? Lately I’d been waking up in a cold sweat—always dreaming of Maya. Putting a continent between us hadn't changed anything, and I couldn’t escape her in my dreams. And now I was hearing her fucking voice when I was awake.

My mouth fell open as I stared over Mrs. Olsen’s shoulder. Was I dreaming? Maya stood there in a cream colored coat and a red scarf around her neck. Her pitch black hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. Her cheeks were flushed and her sweet lips were pulled into a small smile. 

She was even more fucking beautiful than I remembered. An apparition.

I pushed to my feet, my legs shaky. I’d wake up from this dream at any moment.

“Maya,” I said, barely able to get the word out. I waved to Mrs. Olsen to leave us alone. She smiled at us and pulled the door closed behind her. She never did that when Bianca came to my office—in fact, she made a point of disrupting our conversations so frequently that I sometimes felt like scolding her.

“I'm surprised you remember my name. I haven’t heard from you in three years, brother.”

I scowled. I hated that fucking word—it had ruined both my parent’s lives and mine.

“What are you doing here, Maya? Why are you in Denmark?” She was turning my whole fucking perfectly organized world upside down again. Just when I thought everything was under fucking control.

“Do I need a reason?” Her eyebrow lifted and she pursed her lips the way she always had when she was exasperated. Fuck, how I’d missed that.

“No . . . I—”

She threw back her head and laughed. “I have a few reasons, actually. One of them is research. I thought you could help me with that.”

“Help you? How?” I swallowed hard. Why was it so hot in this fucking office? I needed air.

“I'm doing a research paper for my thesis on step siblings. Since you’re pretty much an expert on that topic, I thought I could interview you.”

She’s not here for me. “Oh? That’s it? That’s why you’re here?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice.

What did you expect, Oliver? You were the asshole who’d left.

She unwrapped the scarf from around her neck and placed it over the back of the chair. I watched as she pulled at each finger of her gloves before removing them from her hands. Slowly, she unbuttoned her coat. I drank each movement in, totally enthralled by such a simple everyday action. But there was just something in the way she moved that captivated me.

“No, there’s more. Much more. But that can wait until we catch up on one another’s news.” This woman in front of me was Maya, yet she was somehow different. Self confidence oozed from her like I’d never seen. It was attractive as fuck.

Don’t go there. Don’t let your dirty thoughts sully this. It's not what you hope it is.

Nothing had changed about how she made me feel. As soon as the deep dimples appeared in her cheeks, my cock stiffened. Jesus fuck. She removed the coat, laying it over the back of the chair next to her scarf. She wore a deep crimson dress, hugging every curve of her perfect body. She was clearly no longer a teenager, and had morphed into a full bodied woman. The deep V cut in the front of her dress drew my eyes directly to her ample cleavage.

Just when I thought I’d finally worked her out of my fucking system, here she was, taunting me with the body and face that haunted my dreams. “Eyes up here, Oliver,” she said, reminding me of her words at the pool all those years ago.

My gaze shifted slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, up her body to her eyes. I sucked in a harsh breath. Those green orbs were dancing with delight, sucking me into their depths. I couldn’t tear my fucking eyes away.

I held on to the back of my chair, partly to compose myself, partly to hide the fact that my dick had gone rock solid. Fuck.

“Undressing me with your eyes, Oliver?” she said, laughing softly. Fuck, if I thought the eighteen year old Maya was dangerous, her adult version was completely mesmerizing. Electricity crackled in the air, causing every cell in my body to come alive and be on high alert.

I wanted to touch her. Feel those soft curves press into me. Kiss those fucking lips. Instead I stood frozen as if I’d seen an apparition.

The door cracked open, and in stepped my soon-to-be fiancé, looking smoking hot in tight leather pants and boots. But the attraction I felt for her could never be as magnetic as the pull toward Maya. Gravity had taken hold of my heart and I was powerless to change it.

Bianca was going to be my wife soon. Pull your shit together, King.

The smile on Bianca’s face slid right off when she saw my stepsister standing in the middle of my office. She pulled her nose up as if she smelled something off. “Maya? What brings you to Denmark?” Bianca’s eyes were wide, her tone hostile. It was impossible to miss her disdain.

Before Maya could answer I cut in, suddenly finding my tongue. “She’s here for work.”

Bianca walked over to me and grabbed hold of my tie, aggressively pulling me toward her. “I missed you, baby,” she said, hooking one leg around my thigh and rubbing her pussy unashamedly against me. “I thought I’d come to the office early so we could make out before we went to dinner. You know how that stimulates your appetite,” she said, winking at me.

Suddenly the red lipstick she wore with her too-brassy blonde hair made her look too much like a whore to carry my babies. Uneasiness settled in the pit of my stomach at the thought of waking to her face every day for the rest of my fucking life. The collar of my shirt strangled me, making me hot and uncomfortable.

Laughing, I pulled away and unbuttoned the top of my shirt. I loosened my tie and pulled it off. I hated these fucking things, but I’d had to wear it to a meeting earlier.

My gaze crossed back to Maya. She stood there, biting hard into her bottom lip the way she always did when she doubted herself. Seeing her vulnerability made my heart squeeze painfully.

“Plans have changed. We are going for a drink before dinner and Maya is coming with us,” I said matter-of-factly, as if this was completely normal. 

The look on Bianca’s face was priceless. She never liked Maya and still referred to her as the kid whenever she asked me about my family back home, even though she knew perfectly well that Maya had just turned twenty one.

Bianca watched through narrowed eyes as Maya dressed back into her coat and scarf. She held both gloves in her hand and nodded when I asked if she was ready.

Awkwardness had settled in the thick air between the three of us.

As we stepped into the elevator, Bianca gunned for pole position, ensuring she stood between Maya and I. Twirling her hair between her fingers, Bianca trained her eyes on the descending numbers above the door. Why did people always do that? Suddenly it irked me beyond belief.

Maya had turned her head down, affording me the chance to openly stare at her face. Drinking in the sight of the vision before me, I noticed that Maya’s cheeks were a little fuller than I remembered, and those bee sting lips—fuck, they were sensational. She had them coated in some glittery shit that made them look even more delicious.

The doors opened and we stepped outside. The cold air hit me between the eyes, but it was better than the stifling air back in my office.

Mrs. Olsen had called for a cab, and it stood idling in the specially marked taxi area. At the last minute, I decided to let both women sit in the back as I slid into the front seat next to the driver. I didn’t want the first time I touched Maya after all this time to be when we were sandwiched into the back of a taxi.

“Awww, babe, I wanted to cuddle with you,” Bianca whined.

One thing I was sure of—I was still an asshole. But letting the two women sit in the back together gave me a few moments to clear my fucking head. It was pounding with a motherfucker of a headache, and I knew exactly why. As Maya had bent down to get into the back seat, her scent had wafted to my nostrils and hit me straight in the dick. Some things never changed. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples with the pads of my thumbs.

Fuck.

We stopped in front of a trendy bar ten minutes later. I hopped out of the car to open the door for Maya, who’d sat behind me. She avoided my gaze, but her cheeks burned red, reminding me of the slinky dress she wore under her coat. I wanted to take it off her fucking body with my teeth and ravish her. Instead I stood like a statue, holding the door open like an idiot. 

Seconds later, Bianca came barreling around the front of the taxi and bumped into Maya, knocking her purse out of her hand. The contents scattered over the sidewalk, sending a look of panic over Maya’s face.

Cursing at Bianca under my breath, I bent over to pick up the items that had fallen out. My gaze narrowed in on a blue box tied up with a ribbon that seemed vaguely familiar. Drawn to it, I picked it up, memories of it streaming into my consciousness. It was the box that always sat on my mother’s vanity.

“Maya?” I said, watching her expression for clues as I held it out to her.

She shrugged. “Keep it. Larissa sent it. She said you may want to use it.”

A conversation with my mom—a happier time from my childhood—played out in my mind. “Oliver, one day you’ll inherit these rings when you’re grown up. They’re my mother’s engagement and wedding rings, and she wanted you to have them. She left you a message inside the box, so be sure to read it before you give these rings to anyone, okay?”

Could this be the same box? I stuck it into my coat pocket before Bianca’s curiosity forced me to open it. I wanted to be completely alone when I read the message that was written in my grandmother’s beautiful slanted handwriting. I’d read it when I was a kid, but it didn’t really make all that much sense to me. I hoped that I'd understand it better now.

I thought I had my fucking life under control. Turned out to be the biggest lie I’d ever told myself.