Trust Fund Fiance - Naima Simone Page 0,57

to introduce you to my wife, Reagan, and my aunt, Piper Holloway.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Brian crossed the small room and shook hands with both of them.

Although, his gaze lingered on Piper.

O-kay.

With sharpened interest, Reagan studied the other man and woman. Piper, slim, tall, with her edgy, short cut and dark green eyes, was an older, beautiful, sophisticated woman. And apparently Brian, who couldn’t look away from her, seemed to agree. They did make a striking couple. And from the way Piper tried—and failed—not to study the younger man from under her dark lashes, she had to notice how handsome the attorney with the athletic build was.

As if he could sense her thoughts, Brian glanced at her, and Reagan arched an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “So you’re from Dallas, too?” she asked. “Piper owns one of the most influential and prestigious art galleries there.”

“Holloway Gallery downtown?” Brian asked Piper.

“Yes, that’s me,” Piper acknowledged. “Have you been in before?”

“Yes, I’ve been to a couple of shows there.” He slid his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “The gallery isn’t far from my office. Maybe we could get together for a cup of coffee soon.”

“We’ll see,” she murmured, then switched her attention to her nephew. “Since I didn’t get an invite to the wedding—and don’t think I’m letting you off the hook for that anytime soon—I brought by a painting for your new home.”

The next half hour flew by, and when Piper and Brian left, Reagan closed the door behind them, then whipped around to face Ezekiel.

“I think your friend has a crush on your aunt,” she teased.

He snorted. “I hate it for him if he does, because even I felt that brush-off.”

“Yeah, it was kind of obvious. Why do you think she did? Piper tried to hide it, but she kept peeking at him.” Reagan frowned. “You think maybe she’s self-conscious about the age difference? Which is silly. He is younger, but she’s a gorgeous, vivacious and successful woman. Any man, regardless of age, would be lucky to have her look their way.”

“Sweetheart, are you really asking me to think about my aunt’s dating habits? As far as I’m concerned, she’s a virgin,” Ezekiel drawled.

Laughing, Reagan strode across the floor to him. After a brief hesitation, she pressed against him and circled her arms around his neck. Rising to her toes, she kissed him, and the desire that never banked for him flickered into higher, hotter flames.

They hadn’t drawn up rules dictating this new turn in their relationship. Part of her was okay with it—no rules meant she couldn’t break them when she just wanted to casually touch him like this. But the other part of her needed to know what they were doing. Because every time she kissed him, touched him, woke up next to him, she couldn’t stop craving more. Even if her mind warned her against that greed, that it could only end in heartache, her heart didn’t seem to be heeding the memo.

Because somewhere along the line, her heart had chosen him. Maybe when she’d come upon him visiting his ex-fiancée’s grave. Maybe when he’d laid his head in her lap and allowed her to help ease some of his burden. Maybe when he hadn’t judged her after she’d revealed her past.

Did it really matter when? Her stupid, never-learn-its-damn-lesson heart had thrown itself at him, and he was Teflon. At sixteen, her reckless, headfirst dive into love could be chalked up to immaturity. But this dizzying, terrifying leap? She was going in knowing Ezekiel didn’t want her future, her affection outside of the bedroom, and most certainly not her love.

And yet...

Yet he had it. All of her.

“How was your day?” Ezekiel asked, planting one last kiss against her mouth.

“Good.” She forced a smile to her lips even though it trembled. “I spent time at the girls’ home, then headed over to the clubhouse for a meeting with Beth, Harley and Gracie about the masquerade ball. I bought tickets for us, by the way. I wanted to get ours before they were sold out—what? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Go ahead with what you were saying.” Ezekiel shrugged, stepping back and heading out of the small foyer toward the living room.

No, she hadn’t imagined that flicker of unease in his eyes or the tightening of his mouth. Something had triggered his reaction. Running her words through her head, she stared at his back and the tense set of his wide shoulders.

“Zeke,