The Pet Stylist and the Playboy Page 13

  Of course, Dante wasn’t asking me to pretend, either, he just wanted me to feel comfortable. But I didn’t want to embarrass him.

  When the mail arrived, the carrier brought a large package from Neiman Marcus to my door. I set it on the kitchen table and cut it open with a knife.

  The first thing I pulled out was a tiny swimsuit, and I let out an amused breath. Did Dante really expect me to wear that? The boy shorts had a zebra-like black and white pattern and would barely cover what needed to be covered. I put them aside and picked up the next item.

  A pair of skinny, navy chinos. They looked like they’d be a good fit. The box also held a button-down shirt with a floral blue and pink print, and fancy boat shoes.

  I was about to throw the box away when I noticed one more item in the bottom. I pulled out the white satin pouch and opened it to find a ruffled lace thong in a pale pink shade. My breath caught in my throat and shivers ran down my back. What the hell? Why had Dante included these? Was it because he knew I liked wearing this kind of thing, or because he wanted to know I was wearing them?

  The latter made me hard as well as confused. Dante had said what we’d done had been a one-time thing, so why would he flirt with me by sending me pretty underwear? The answer was, he wouldn’t. He’d included the thong as a nice gesture now that he knew I liked wearing that type of thing. That was all.

  I got rid of the wrappings and took all the clothes upstairs to put away. Part of me dreaded the event, but another part kind of looked forward to seeing the life Dante had come from. I was just glad Blaze would be with me.

  ***

  Blaze entered the house wearing a dark pair of chinos, a light blue button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and expensive-looking loafers.

  “You look great,” I said. “Where’d you get the outfit?” It looked like it could be brand new.

  “J had quite the wardrobe, and we were the same size. Morgan let me have all his stuff.”

  Blaze had been best friends with Morgan’s older brother, who had recently passed away. Morgan was now the last remaining Wentworth and CEO of his family’s corporation and had more money than he’d ever need. On top of that, he was an extremely talented ballet dancer. I wondered what it would be like to have so many options in life, but quickly set myself straight. Morgan might be rich and talented, but he had his own problems. Losing his big brother had been a terrible blow, and his performance career had proved so taxing both physically and emotionally, he’d given it up to teach dancing.

  “You think it’s okay to show that?” I pointed to the tattoo of a snake peeking out from beneath Blaze’s sleeve.

  Blaze shrugged. “Dante may feel the need to live up to his parents’ expectations, but I don’t.”

  He was right, of course, but I couldn’t help but want Dante’s parents to like me. You probably won’t even meet them, twat.

  “I should be asking you where you got your clothes.” Blaze walked slowly around me, looking me up and down. “You look hot, Swish.”

  I blushed. “Dante sent them. He said it was only right he buy them since he’d invited me.”

  “He’s right. Don’t worry, he can well afford it. Dante might not have shown it at the clubhouse, but he has money oozing out his ass.” Blaze continued regarding me. “He did a good job picking stuff out for you. The colors suit you. You look like you just stepped right off the page of a fashion magazine.”

  I could feel my face getting red. “I think it’s time to get your eyes checked.”

  “I’m not kidding.”

  I shook my head. “If anyone looks like a model around here, it’s you.” It was true: Blaze was one good-looking guy, and I don’t think he even realized it. With jet-black hair, deep blue eyes surrounded by lush, dark lashes, heavy brows, a long nose, and plump, pink lips, he was more than striking. I wondered how he always managed to look like he was at that perfect moment between shaves, just the right amount of stubble on his square jaw.

  Blaze started to argue, but I held up a hand. “Don’t even.”

  We headed for the living room to say goodbye to Deirdre and Caleb. Marmalade was spread out on the back of the couch where the two sat playing a video game, and Banjo was curled up on his bed in the corner. The rest of the dogs had been put up for the night. I’d fed Gus at his house and left him with his crossword puzzle, a cup of hot chocolate, and a promise I’d be by the next day.

  Caleb glanced at Blaze and sank deeper into the couch as though he was trying to disappear.

  Deirdre put down her controller and smiled at us. “You two look nice.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You guys need anything before we go?”

  She shook her head. “Have fun.”

  “Don’t forget to lock the door when you guys leave,” I said as I headed for the front door. The kitten was doing much better and didn’t have to be fed as often, but, as Deirdre had a large family, she and Caleb liked the privacy of my place. She’d recently told me Caleb was living in her oldest brother’s old room over the garage, but I hadn’t learned anything more about him than that.

  When I saw Blaze’s bike parked out front, I raised a brow.

  “Like I said, I got no one to impress,” Blaze said with a wink and started the bike. I sighed and put on the helmet he handed me before swinging my leg over and seating myself behind him. I hung onto him as we rode down the long driveway toward the main road.

  I’d been right about Dante’s parents being members of the country club I’d been to with Hugh. The place was called The Gables and was separated from surrounding affluent neighborhoods by a dense growth of trees. Blaze circled round to the back of the building where a golf course spread out behind the fenced-in pool area, and several dining rooms jutted out over the property. Clear fairy lights sparkled everywhere.

  I was glad Blaze parked a distance away; the walk gave me time to settle my jumping nerves. We entered through the gate of the pool area. Having no intention of swimming, I hadn’t worn the tiny Tom Ford swim briefs Dante had sent me. Instead, underneath my navy chinos I wore the pink panties.

  A large crowd mingled by the Olympic-sized swimming pool. Several people lounged in the water, drinks in hand. What sounded like a live band played over speakers, although I couldn’t see them.

  I quickly spotted Dante near the bar talking to an older couple. He looked fucking hot in slim, checked pants and a shirt unbuttoned partway to reveal his tanned chest. Remembering what those hard muscles felt like underneath my hands, a rush of heat spread throughout my body.

  “Dante’s got that fake smile on his face that screams impending coma,” Blaze said. “We’d better go save him.” We walked around the pool, and when Dante spotted us, I heated up again as his gaze traveled over me approvingly.

  He sauntered toward us, the dimple by his mouth making an appearance when he smiled.

  He and Blaze hugged with a couple of back slaps, and Dante affectionately squeezed the back of my neck.

  “Nice party,” Blaze said.

  Dante smiled. “You guys want a drink?”

  “Got something besides that, I hope.” Blaze indicated the glass of champagne in Dante’s hand.

  “Name it.”

  Blaze asked for beer in a bottle, and I told him to make it two.

  Dante headed back to the bar, and I tore my eyes away from him to look around. Seeing the type of crowd there, I was thankful Dante had dressed me. Blaze seemed unconcerned. His exceptional looks had already drawn the attention of every female there, young and old, but he didn’t seem to notice their inviting glances. Blaze tended to date a girl for months at a time and then break up with her when things got too serious. This was always followed by months of not dating at all, which was where he was in now.

  “I see why you wanted to show the tat,” I teased him. “Every woman here looks like they want to unveil the rest of it.”

  Blaze glanced around. His eyes flickered, and I turned to see who had grabbed his attention.

  “H
ello, I don’t believe we’ve met.” A tall young man with wavy blond hair and eyes of an unusual light green color smiled curiously at us and extended his hand. I shook it.

  “I’m Lake Adams.” He shook Blaze’s hand and indicated the slender brunette beside him. “This is Sandra Parks.”

  “Isaac Paul,” I said. Blaze raised a brow, and I suddenly realized he hadn’t heard my real name before.

  “Blaze Harrington,” Blaze said to Lake.

  “Is that eyeliner?” the girl asked, getting close to my face. In my nervousness, I’d been unable to keep myself from applying some form of my armor.

  “Rude,” Lake said, pulling the girl back. “Sorry. She was born in a barn.”

  “I was not!” Sandra said on a huff. “I was born in a hospital. Lake, really. Besides, Jesus was born in a barn.”

  “Yes, and who knows what his manners were like.” Lake turned from a confused Sandra and gave us another dazzling smile just as Dante returned with the beers.

  “Hey, Lake. Sandra,” Dante said, nodding at them. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Lake said with a sly smile. I wondered how Dante knew him.

  “Of course, we wouldn’t,” Sandra purred, drawing close to Dante and wrapping her arms around his waist. My fingers dug into my beer bottle.

  “Did you meet my friends?” Dante asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Lake’s gaze flickered over me before landing on Blaze, crawling up his body like a curious fly. “They’re fascinating.”

  Dante huffed. “They aren’t on exhibit, Lake. They’re just people.”

  Lake’s throaty laugh tugged at my nuts in spite of myself. The man oozed sex, although he wasn’t my type at all. He looked familiar to me, but I wasn’t sure where I would have encountered him. Thinking he might have come home with Dante, my gut burned with jealousy, and I told myself to cool it.

  Blaze stared back at Lake with an inscrutable look as the man continued to regard him with unveiled interest, and as I watched, something weighty and unnamed built between them. Did Blaze already know Lake? Is that why he looked familiar? I’d have to ask him later.

  Lake tore his eyes away from Blaze and turned to his host. “Of course, they’re people, Dante, you say the funniest things. Friends you met in your travels, perhaps? Those must have been some fabulous hostels you stayed in. You always were such a rebel.” I was clueless as to what he was talking about. The guy was more over the top than I’d ever been on my best day.

  Dante sipped his champagne, ignoring Lake. An uncomfortable silence stretched out until I thought I would blurt out something inane just to break it. Thankfully, Sandra spoke up.

  “Are you going to swim?” she asked, directing the question at Dante. “I’m wearing my gold bikini under this dress.”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed, my mind immediately going to Princess Leia and her gold bikini in Return of the Jedi. Dante and I must have watched the trilogy a hundred times. His eyes met mine, and he grinned while Sandra looked insulted.

  “Maybe later,” Dante said. “Excuse us, please.” He led me and Blaze through the crowd and out onto the golf course. I couldn’t get over how different Dante was here. Not only did he look different, he sounded different, too. Cultured. Refined. Like he belonged with these people.

  “Interesting friends you have,” Blaze said when we were out of earshot of Lake and Sandra.

  “Believe me, they’re not my friends,” Dante said. “I’m so glad you guys are here.”

  “Dante?”

  Dante flinched, stopping in his tracks. I looked over my shoulder. An older blond woman approached from the cabana. She wore a jade-colored sleeveless pantsuit that looked like silk, and diamonds dangled from her ears. She was attractive, but I thought her eyes were cold.

  “Stay close, dear. We’re about to make the welcoming announcement, and you should say a few words.” Her laser-blue gaze left Dante to run over Blaze and then me, lingering on my hair I’d left flowing down my back.

  An icy smile curved her lips, and with a jolt, I realized I was looking at Dante’s mother.

  “Dante, introduce me to your friends,” she said.

  “Gayle, this is Blaze Harrington and Isaac Paul. Gayle Durham, my mother.”

  “Welcome,” Mrs. Durham said, although her eyes weren’t welcoming at all. How had someone like Dante grown up with such an icy woman for a mother? And why did he call her by her first name?

  “We have three buffet tables set up inside,” Gayle said. “As soon as your father says a few words, Dante, we can head that way. I hope you two have a wonderful time,” she added to me and Blaze before gliding toward the crowd by the pool.

  Dante ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed. “Sorry about that.”

  “About what?” Blaze asked. “She seemed nice.”

  Yeah, nice like a lioness planning her next meal, I thought.

  The music stopped, and a booming male voice came over the loud speaker. “Ladies and Gentlemen.” The noise of the crowd died down. I looked back toward the pool area where a tall, older man stood on the dais set up by the bar, microphone in hand.

  “We are happy to have you here to help us celebrate our son Dante’s thirtieth birthday. After spending the past few years backpacking through Europe, he’s returned home ready to take his place in the family business,” the man said.

  A smattering of applause rippled through the crowd. I glanced at Dante, whose mouth was set in a hard line. Backpacking through Europe?

  Dante strode toward the dais and took the microphone from his father, a smile pasted on his face.

  “He’s miserable,” I said to Blaze as we watched Dante make a short speech welcoming everyone.

  “Probably exhausted from backpacking across Europe,” Blaze muttered.

  I snorted. “I know, right? What’s with his parents?”

  “Just another rich couple trying to keep up appearances,” Blaze said. “I always thought something was going on with Dante. He lived like every day was his last. Now we know why.”

  I frowned, not understanding. “Why?”

  Dante finished speaking, and a dark-haired young woman wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked together toward the building.

  “He’s always known he’d be coming back to this life.”

  My mind struggled to connect the dots.

  “And that girl looks like just the type that comes with this kind of life,” Blaze continued. “I saw how these people work when J and I became friends. It was the reason we hadn’t been able to hang out before he came to live with us at the clubhouse. People like them don’t like people like us, and deep down, Dante’s one of them.”

  “No!” I protested. “Dante wouldn’t turn his back on us.” But even as I said the words, I realized that was exactly what he would do. It was the responsibility he’d been talking about.

  “Family ties can be strong,” Blaze said. I didn’t argue because I wouldn’t know.

  Blaze squeezed the back of my neck. “You look like someone ran over your teddy bear. Sorry. I hope I’m wrong.”

  I hoped he was, too, but I had a sinking feeling he wasn’t.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Dante

  I was going to lose it if I didn’t get away for a few minutes. God, I hoped Blaze and Isaac hadn’t left. Mumbling an excuse to FB-B, who my mother had insisted be my date, about having to use the restroom, I made my way around the tables of guests eating from the buffet and out into the open air.

  Relief coursed through me when I spotted Blaze near the pool. He seemed to be having a heated conversation with Lake Adams, of all people, but where was Isaac?

  My mother’s stony stare over dinner had told me I wasn’t fooling her about Blaze and Isaac. She knew what sort of friends they were—those from my time of bad choices, she’d probably call it. Basically, in my mother’s mind, if she didn’t know them from the circles she ran in, they probably weren’t worth knowing.

  Not wanting
to interrupt whatever Blaze and Lake were talking about, I walked out to the pool area. No one was swimming at the moment, as most were still inside eating, but I spotted a lounge chair turned to face the golf course.

  I headed that way, relieved when I saw Isaac seated there, ankles crossed, quietly sipping his beer. I stopped beside his chair and glanced back the way I’d come. We were in plain view of anyone who cared to look out of the large windows of the building, and I wanted a moment in private with him.

  “Hey, Isaac.” Surprising how easily the name slipped off my tongue now. When he looked up at me, I tilted my head toward the golf course. “Walk with me?”

  Isaac set down his beer and got up from the lounger in a graceful movement that for some reason had me remembering what it had felt like to be inside him. Great, now I was getting hard.

  “Why didn’t you come inside to eat?” I asked as we walked side-by-side over the green.

  “I wasn’t hungry,” Isaac said, not looking at me.

  I frowned, wondering how well he was eating at home. “You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

  He suddenly turned on me, brown eyes fierce. “And who’s going to take care of you, Dante?”

  I stepped away from him in surprise. “What?”

  “You heard me. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you’re happy and healthy. You have dark circles under your eyes. Have you been sleeping?”

  I wasn’t sure where this was coming from. “I’ve been sleeping okay.”

  Isaac grabbed my hand, his touch sending a charge through me. Christ.

  “I care about you. I don’t want you to get sick...or to be sad,” he said, and my heart clenched. He’d changed so much lately. I’d always known he put on a front of being tougher than he really was, and of not caring, but lately it was as though I could see past a barrier into his soul.

  I squeezed his hand. “I’m okay. Really. You don’t have to worry.”

  Isaac let go, and we resumed walking. I gave him a minute to calm down.