The limo pulls into the large circular driveway, and I feel the nerves in my stomach dance. As if reading my mind, Tristan leans in and kisses my temple. “You look beautiful, Anderson.”
I blow out a deep breath. This meet-the-family thing is nerve-racking. The driver opens the door, and Tristan gets out and takes my hand to help me. The driveway and foyer are a hive of activity as the cars roll in one after the other. Beautiful people in black-tie attire are everywhere, and I am so glad that I let Marley talk me into getting that stylist.
My dress is black and fitted, and it has a big thick band that wraps around the top of it from the waist up, creating a strapless look. It’s understated and sexy. Tristan loves it and told me I’m to wear it every day. He even made our driver take photos of us before we climbed into the limo.
He leads me up the stairs and into the ballroom. People are doing double takes as they see us together. “Hi. Hello. Hello, Roger,” Tristan greets people as we walk through to the seating chart.
I smirk over at him.
“What?” he asks.
“You think you’re a rock star or something.”
“I am a fucking rock star, Anderson. When will you get with the program and realize it?” He gives me a sexy wink, and I smile broadly, happy to admit that I’m officially a groupie. He reads the board and looks for where we’re sitting. “Over here.”
My stomach flutters as I look to where he gestured and see his entire family sitting at the table.
Fuck . . . the blood drains from my face.
Meeting the family is always intimidating.
Meeting the Miles family is next-level terrifying. His father is one of the most respected men in New York, and his older brother, Jameson, is known for being one of the biggest assholes in the world. I catch a glimpse of Christopher and Elliot, and I feel slightly better—they’re really nice and not at all what I imagined. I’m glad that I at least know them. “Hello.” Tristan smiles broadly as we approach the table. “This is Claire Anderson.” He presents me like a prized pig.
“Hello.” I smile awkwardly.
“This is my father, George. My mother, Elizabeth. This is Jameson and Emily, and you know Elliot and Christopher.”
They all stand. George shakes my hand. “Hello, Claire, lovely to meet you.”
His mother kisses my cheek. “Hello, dear, so glad you could join us.”
I smile awkwardly, and Emily grabs me into an embrace and chuckles. “I am absolutely thrilled to meet you,” she gasps.
I giggle into the embrace . . . okay, she isn’t what I imagined.
Jameson smiles and then leans in and kisses my cheek. “Lovely to meet you, Claire. I’ve heard so many good things.” He gives me a genuine smile, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Oh, thank God . . . he’s not as scary as I thought.
“Just so you all know, I am Claire’s favorite Miles. Just putting it out there,” Christopher says as he raises his champagne glass to me.
“Actually, I am,” Tristan replies deadpan as he pulls my chair out.
I smile and take a seat next to Emily.
Tristan sits beside me and takes my hand on my lap for reassurance.
I love him.
“So, Claire,” George addresses me as the group listens in. “You own Anderson Media?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Very impressive.”
“Thank you.”
He smiles warmly. “I knew your husband. He was a good man.”
“He was.”
“I attended his funeral. It was a beautiful service.”
I smile sadly, wishing the conversation hadn’t gone this way.
Tristan squeezes my hand, and I gratefully squeeze it back.
Elizabeth changes the subject. “So you have children?”
Oh fuck . . . this is the night from hell. “Yes.” I smile. “Three boys.”
“How do they like Tristan?” Christopher laughs. “I hope they’re giving him a run for his money.”
“It would be payback if they did,” George mutters dryly. “He was a coot of a kid.”
The group laughs, and I feel a little more at ease.
“Do you want to go and get a drink?” Tristan asks me.
“Yes, please,” I answer a little too eagerly.
“I’ll come,” Emily says. She’s attractive and lovely—naturally beautiful and refreshingly unpretentious.
We stand and make our way to the bar. “What do you want, babe?” Tris asks.
“Fucking anything,” I whisper back.
“Okay, drunk and disorderly in front of my parents, coming right up,” he replies.
I grab his hand and pull him back to me as he goes to walk off. “On second thought, one drink. Don’t let me drink any more than that. Being drunk here is my worst nightmare.”
He and Emily chuckle, and he turns to her. “What do you want, Em?”
“Bubbles, please.”
Tristan disappears to the bar, leaving me alone with Emily. “It’s pretty nerve-racking meeting them, isn’t it?” Emily says.
Relief fills me—she’s normal. “God, I know. I’m so nervous.”
She takes my hand. “Don’t be; they’re really lovely. Not at all what you think.”
“Thanks.” I smile gratefully. “So . . .” I frown. “You’re married?”
“Yes, Jay and I got married three months ago.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She smiles. “Still in the honeymoon phase. Tristan told me that you live on Long Island?”
“Yes, it’s a ways out of New York but great for the boys.”
“Oh, well, we live in New Jersey.”
“Really?” I ask in surprise.
“We stay in New York maybe two nights a week at most. I wanted to get Jay out of the city and into a more relaxed lifestyle.”
“He’s stressed?” I frown.
“God.” She rolls her eyes. “Massively. His workload is ridiculous. He’s a lot better since we got married, and he works from home on Fridays now.”
I stare at her in a state of shock. This is not what I expected at all. The Miles Media group has always seemed so invincible . . . never in a million years would I imagine the CEO is battling stress, although it’s totally understandable that he is.
Tristan reappears with our drinks and puts his arm around me and kisses my temple. “Are you all right?”
“Well, there’s an ugly face if I ever saw one,” I hear a deep English male voice say.
We all turn to see two men walking toward us. One is blond and gorgeous. The other is tall, dark, and handsome. “Hey.” Tristan laughs out loud as he pulls them into an embrace.
My eyes flick to Emily, and she laughs too.
The three men laugh, and then Tristan introduces us. “Claire, please meet Spencer Jones and Sebastian Garcia, my friends from London. And you both know Emily. Jameson and Sebastian met in Italy at college.”
“I’ve been trying to get rid of them ever since.” Sebastian smiles with a wink.
Tristan puts his hand on my shoulder and pulls me close, and Emily laughs. “How are my favorite London villains?” she asks.
It’s obvious she knows them quite well.
“Very well,” Spencer replies. He has this boyish-charm thing going on. He turns his attention back to Tristan. “Where have you been?”
“I’ve been here,” Tristan replies. He tips his champagne glass toward me. “With Claire.”
Sebastian’s eyes come to me, and then he snaps his fingers, as if remembering something. “Did you two meet in France?”
“This is her.” Tristan smiles broadly. Wait . . . what? He’s told them about me?
I glance over to Emily, and she hunches her shoulders, as if excited.
Sebastian glances over and sees Jameson talking to some men and walks up and grabs him in a headlock from behind. They laugh loudly. “Back in a minute,” Tristan whispers, and he and Spencer join them.
The four men laugh as they talk, and I watch them for a moment. “Who are they?” I ask.
“They are the naughtiest men in all of England,” Emily whispers. “And the most gorgeous.”
“God,” I whisper as I watch them. I have never seen such handsome men all in one place. All of them are freaking delicious. “You’re not wrong.”
“Spencer Jones is the world’s biggest player.”
“He’s the blond?” I ask.
“That’s him. Ridiculously good looking, isn’t he?”
“The other one is more gorgeous. What’s his name again?” I ask.
“Sebastian Garcia. His marriage just broke up recently.”
“Really? He’s a player too?” I frown.
“No, his wife slept with their gardener.”
“What?” I frown as I look at the beautiful man. He’s tall, dark, and European. “Is she mad?” I gasp.
“Apparently.” She shrugs. “Must be absolutely off her fucking tree,” she mutters.
I giggle, and Emily smiles and clinks her glass with mine. “It’s so good to finally meet you,” she whispers as she again takes my hand in hers.
“Oh, thanks.” I smile. “Thank God you’re normal. I thought you were going to be a supermodel taking selfies all night.”
She bursts out laughing. “Ha. No, that would be Tristan’s ex-girlfriends.”
I cringe. “I don’t really fit the mold, do I?”
“Thankfully not.” She laughs.
I glance over and into the gaze of Tristan in his black dinner suit. His dark wavy hair and square jaw light up the room. He gives me a slow, sexy smile and a wink, and my heart somersaults in my chest.
I’m feeling like the luckiest girl in the world tonight.
He loves me.
Tristan’s fingers trail a circle on my bare shoulder as I sit at the table and talk to Emily. It’s been a great night filled with laughter, handsome men, and intelligent conversation.
Not at all what I expected.
From the corner of my eye I can see Elizabeth watching the two of us together. She hasn’t had to look very hard—Tristan has been all over me all night. He’s most definitely not shy with affection.
“The boys are going to a bar for a few drinks. Do you want to go?” Tristan leans in and whispers.
“Are you going?” I ask as I turn to Emily.
“Apparently.” She smirks into her wineglass. “I’ve had enough champagne for a lifetime . . . but whatever.”
“Me too.” I giggle, but it will be nice to get to know everyone in a not-so-formal setting. “Okay, sure, sounds good.”
We say our goodbyes, and twenty minutes later I find myself outside and waiting on the curb for a limo with Emily, the four Miles brothers, and Spencer Jones.
Everybody has had too much to drink, and we are cackling like schoolgirls. These guys are hilarious.
“Where the fuck is Seb?” Spencer frowns, looking around the crowd as people pour out of the function center.
“He’s with two girls inside,” Elliot replies as he types a message to someone on his phone.
“Jesus Christ,” Spencer whispers. “If he doesn’t hurry, we’re leaving without him.”
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a fuck,” Elliot replies flatly.
Tristan takes his jacket off and puts it around my shoulders. He pulls me into his arms and smiles down at me. I have the urge to kiss him, but I won’t . . . everyone is here. He leans down and kisses me anyway, and I smile against his lips. He knows what I want.
Sebastian walks out with a gorgeous girl on each arm. “The girls are coming with us,” he announces.
“What’s your name?” Spencer asks the blonde as he picks up her hand and kisses it.
“Fuck off. She’s with me,” Sebastian says.
Spencer shrugs and turns to the brunette. “So . . . what’s your name?”
“Also with me,” Sebastian replies deadpan.
“Greedy prick,” Spencer snaps as he drops her hand like a hot potato.
“Get your own.” Sebastian winks to him.
We all laugh, and the girls cuddle closer into Sebastian. What the hell . . . two women?
Jeez.
I glance over to see Elliot and Christopher talking to a group of girls in the cab line. The women are all laughing on cue as the boys flirt up a storm. I imagine what these boys are like when they are out on the town together.
I wonder if Tristan has had two women before . . . of course he has. All these men have. Rich, funny, gorgeous, and intelligent.
The jackpot of eligible bachelors.
Tristan smiles goofily down at me and kisses me again. He really is quite tipsy.
And gorgeous.
Two limousines pull up, and Jameson opens the door. “Elliot, Christopher,” he calls as he helps Emily into the car. We all climb in, and Sebastian and Spencer and the girls climb into the car behind us.
“Club 42, please,” Tristan says.
“Sure thing.” The driver smiles as he pulls out into the traffic. The boys are loud and joking, and laughter is filling the car.
The car accelerates, and I smile as I get a rush of adrenaline.
This is a fun night.
I giggle as I watch Tristan and Christopher together. They’re like two peas in a pod.
They laugh at the same things, share private jokes, and finish each other’s sentences. Similar looking, almost identical personalities, and nowhere near what I thought they were. Warm and friendly, not a cold soul sucker in sight.
From what I can tell, Elliot and Jameson are similar and look alike too.
It’s late. Last time I looked, it was four o’clock in the morning, and we are now collectively drunk. We’re in a small nightclub kind of bar, and the boys must come here a lot because they know all the staff and the DJ.
There aren’t a lot of people left, and they’ve just called last drinks. I’ve had the best night ever. Emily and I have gotten on like a house on fire, and the boys are everything I never expected.
Kind and funny. Sarcastic like Tris, but lovely just the same.
“As I play the final song for the night,” the DJ says into the mic, “with the Miles boys in the house, I had to play their anthem. ‘Freak Me’ by Silk.” A tantric beat rings out.
Freak me, baby (ah, yeah)
Freak me, baby (mm, just like that)
Freak me, baby (ah, yeah)
The boys all laugh out loud and cheer. I’m instantly dragged to the dance floor, and the boys all begin to dance as if it’s the best song in the world.
Tristan pushes me out and then twirls me. “What is this song?” I laugh out loud as I am bounced back to his body with force.
He smiles down at me as he moves us to the beat. “This was our boarding school anthem.” He pushes me out again and then spins me and brings me back to him, and I can’t contain my laughter. “We played this song in our dorm every day for our entire schooling life. We all know it word for word.”
I giggle and look around, and I see a very drunk Jameson dirty dancing with Emily as he sings to her. Elliot and Christopher have found girls somewhere and are singing to them. Sebastian is dirty dancing with his two girls, and Spencer has jumped up onstage and has dragged a waitress with him. They are slow dancing to the music. I listen to the words and laugh out loud as Tristan twirls me around.
Let me lick you up and down till you say stop
Let me play with your body, baby, make you real hot
Let me do all the things you want me to do
“This is the song you sang while at school?” I giggle. Sex maniacs, the lot of them.
“Yep.” Tristan smiles down at me.
“Your favorite song was about licking women up and down?” I ask in horror.
“One hundred percent.” He pushes me out and spins me hard, and I laugh out loud. He rocks us side to side as he holds my hand in his. “Still is.” He leans down and kisses me softly, and his eyes twinkle with a certain something. “Speaking of which, let’s go home, Anderson.”
I smile up at the beautiful man in front of me. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I hear a vibration on the side table, and I frown.
Bzzz . . . bzzz . . . bzzz.
Tristan lets out a deep sigh. “Who the fuck’s that?” he mumbles.
It stops, and we both relax.
Bzzz . . . bzzz . . . bzzz.
Tristan sits up onto his elbow and leans over to get my phone. He fumbles and drops it, and it slips between the bed and the side table. “Fuck off,” he whispers.
My head begins to thump. “Oh God,” I whimper. “What the fuck happened last night?”
The phone continues to ring, and Tristan puts the back of his forearm over his eyes. “Fuck off . . . whoever you are,” he moans.
I wake properly and sit up. Shit. “Tris,” I say. “The kids.”
“Jesus.” He stands and feels around for the missing phone. He’s naked, and his hair is standing on end. I smile as I watch him. What a sight for sore eyes.
We can still hear my phone vibrating from its unknown location. He reaches in and pulls it out and holds it in the air. “Found the fucker.” He frowns at the screen as he reads it, and then his face drops. “It’s Barb.” He passes it over.
“Hello,” I answer. “What’s wrong?”
“Hi, Claire.”
“What is it?” My heart begins to beat faster.
“Harry’s missing.”
“What?”
“I got up to go to the bathroom just after three a.m. and stuck my head in to check on him, and he wasn’t in bed.”
I sit up in a rush. “What do you mean?”
“He snuck out, Claire, and he hasn’t come back.”
I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears. “Why didn’t you call me?” I stammer.
“I did, but you haven’t been answering.”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“We’ve looked everywhere and contacted all of his friends. We thought he would come back before we were supposed to wake up so he wouldn’t get caught, but nobody has seen him.”
My heart drops.
“What?” Tristan whispers.
“Harry’s missing.”
He screws up his face. “Huh?”
“I’m on my way.” I hang up and jump out of bed.
