Sins

By Soraya Naomi

William Kade is a ruthless businessman who plays dirty. He titillates all women and is rejected by none.

An orphan who comes from nothing, William has built an empire from a gaming club and an illegal fight club with his best friend and mentor, Charles. However, when profits decline, Charles and William decide to open the first hardcore sex club in the U.S.

With plans in the works to expand that business, they're forced to take drastic measures to secure enough cash to pay the gaming club debts. Drastic measures that involve Ivy, a woman William already has unfinished business with. A woman who might be the only female that equally annoys and intrigues him.

But when William and Ivy start playing a dangerous game, the stakes become higher with each passing day until no one can find a sane way out.

A standalone dark romance filled with twists and turns.

From Soraya Naomi, International Bestselling Author of the Chicago Syndicate series. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Soraya Naomi
• Release date: Nov 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393831662

Soraya Naomi

There are books full of great writing that don't have very good stories. Read sometimes for the story... don't be like the book-snobs who won't do that. Read sometimes for the words--the language. Don't be like the play-it-safers who won't do that. But when you find a book that has both a good story and good words, treasure that book. ― Stephen King Soraya Naomi resides in Europe with her entrepreneur fiancé. She attended university in The Netherlands. Although she reads many genres, she favours intense, dark, seductive, and provocative novels where the male character loves fiercely without remorse or boundaries. She has a passionate obsession for the written word and indulges in chocolate pastries much too often. FACEBOOK PAGE: https://www.facebook.com/sorayanaomi.... TWITTER: https://twitter.com/Soraya_Naomi AMAZON AUTHOR: - to follow GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8153734.Soraya_Naomi E-MAIL: [e-mail]

Book preview

PART 1

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. ~ William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet.

CHAPTER 1

The Loop, Chicago, 1900

OH, WILLIAM. YES! Anne moaned.

The organ rang through the sacristy, announcing the end of mass. William heard it in the distance while he drove his cock into Anne, who was seated on the edge of the priest’s desk in this lavishly decorated room.

With her dress bunched up to her waist and William’s black pants held up by his suspenders, they were face-to-face and uncomfortably close. He could see his midnight black hair – that was unfashionably long but framed his face and made his silver-grey eyes more noticeable – mirrored in her irises. William Kade titillated most women and was rejected by none. He was sex and sin embodied. With his brooding mouth, a dimple in his left cheek, and often a hint of stubble, he was an enigma in his physique and actions, and everyone was fascinated with him. For a man of his time, he was a novelty, with tattoos below the elbow on each arm that drew attention to his sculpted muscles. His left forearm was adorned with a black and grey feather with the quill starting at his wrist and rotating slightly upward, the pointed tip of it ending at his elbow. The barbs of the feather spanned wide and turned grey at the edges, except in the middle on one side where a chunk of hairs broke off into birds flying free. His right lower arm was completely covered with a design of chains drawn in a crisscross pattern and ending at the back of his wrist with a dangling dog tag without any inscription.

William was dead silent as he reached for his peak, but Anne’s voice kept distracting him. His large hands were on her bony ass, and her tone was starting to annoy him. He didn’t enjoy it when women talked or fake moaned during sex – a man could always tell when it was fake. And Anne’s moans were over the top as he banged her on the desk while she clung to his shoulders. When he fucked, he didn’t want to have to remember to be gentle and soft, not while fucking and especially not afterward.

Oh, hmmm. William!

Shhh... he ground out.

Hmmm...

Her voice was making him flaccid. Here he was, with one of the sexiest women in town, and he got to be her first. Yet William couldn’t find satisfaction in her body.

Finally, she ceased her chattering so that only their groans filled the room, and just as William was about to get back into it, the door flew open.

Anne! William?!

Fuck! Tabitha? William pulled out and hurriedly buttoned his slacks. 

This was not good. Not good at all.

Anne’s mother stood in the doorway with her hand covering her mouth. Shock registered first, then fury blistered to the surface. Her eyes turned to slits, and she pointed her finger at him.

Anne jumped off the desk. Mother—

Hush! Tabitha ordered with a menacing scowl. You, philanderer! You dare to sleep with my daughter after you’ve seduced me?!

What?! Anne yelled, her gaze shooting to William.

A ghost of a smile spread across his face. William had been in his fair share of delicate situations, but this topped them all. Being caught by the mother of his current lover, when said mother was his former lover, was quite bad.

William held up both hands and inched backward toward the window. I had no idea, he lied.

He needed to escape before Anne’s father, who was one of his potential investors, stormed in. William couldn’t afford the scandal, and Anne definitely wasn’t worth the hassle.

Anne and Tabitha began spewing at each other while William tried to slide the window open. If the two didn’t lower their voices soon, this would become a public row between mother and daughter about a fighter and gambling club owner. It was bad form all around. 

When did you sleep with him? Anne demanded.

Why are you interested in him?

William stared at them in amazement for a second, then he turned back to the window and opened it.

I-I like him, Anne said. He’s mine. I lo—

Oh, no! William didn’t want to hear it. He absolutely did not want her love.

Both women spun around when William swung a leg over the sill.

William, where are you going?! Anne dashed to the window.

Gotta go, ladies! He dropped the few feet down onto the mowed grass in the back yard.

William, if I tell her father, he’ll retract his offer to invest! Tabitha yelled.

William swiveled around and walked backward a few steps. "Don’t threaten me, Tabitha. If you say anything, I’ll tell our little secret. Better keep your mouth shut." And he rounded the front of the church, jumping over the picket fence and onto the sidewalk.

Then he dodged a car as he crossed the street. William eyed the exquisite piece of machinery. Introduced around the turn of the century, automobiles were still a new concept.

As luck would have it, another vehicle, a black one that William recognized, stopped beside him, and his business partner, British industrialist, Charles Lindon, was at the wheel.

Charles, at fifty years, was old enough to be William’s father since William was only twenty-five years of age, and most often, Charles did reprimand him as a parent would. Charles was the only father figure William had ever known.

Charles came from nothing and had lived an impoverished life in England until he stowed away on a transatlantic steamship and arrived in America without a penny to his name. Through hard work – starting as a builder for an American architect – and a lot of scheming, he worked his way up. He saved every cent he earned and got a loan to purchase a high-rise in the Loop, transforming the first floor into a successful gaming club. Then he added two underground floors where he built an illegal fight club. The rest of the high-rise, where both William and Charles lived on the top floor, was rented out as private apartments.

When Charles met William ten years ago, he instantly recognized a fire in William, a hunger to fight. So he decided at once to proposition William. At that time, William was in desperate need of help; he had just murdered two caretakers in the orphanage where he lived a life of poverty and abuse – which resulted in William’s hatred for the upper class. William confessed everything about the murders at the orphanage to Charles several days after they met, and through his political connections, Charles arranged for the crimes to be blamed on a burglary gone awry. And then he adopted William at the age of fifteen.

For three years after that, until William was eighteen, he was trained to become a professional fighter and was tutored by the best teachers in the Loop to assist him in perfecting his spelling, speech, and social etiquette. And since that time, for the past almost seven years, William had been Charles’s most profitable fighter and his educated partner.

Charles recognized a kindred spirit in William, and he saved him – in every way possible. Without Charles, William wouldn’t be what he was today. Charles was his best friend, his confidant, and his business partner. He was the only one in this world William would protect with his life. He was the only one William trusted.

I thought you’d be at the fight club? Charles inquired.

On my way now – there was a minor...distraction at the church. William smirked.

What did you do? Charles asked, well, more accused.

Nothing for you to worry about. Not wanting to share his latest adventure, William jumped into the car and prompted Charles to drive, Lucky for me that you saw me. Let’s go.

AFTER PUTTING ON HIS shorts, William retrieved his black boxing gloves from the chair and exited his private room, heading to the fight club via the narrow corridor only he and Charles used. Both William’s private room and the fight club were located on the second underground floor of Charles’s high-rise.

At the end of the hall, he could hear the excitement of the crowd thrumming on the other side of the door. Rolling his neck and jumping up and down in place, he waited until he was announced.

And now, the one you’ve been waiting for. The one all of you bet your money on.

Laughter erupted from the audience.

Here is William, the Unconquerable!

William banged his gloved hands against the door, causing it to fly open, and he was welcomed by loud applause and cheers.

The fight club wasn’t huge – around two hundred people could fill it to capacity. This was a fight club for the middle class; hard-working, blue collar men came here to unwind by drinking alcohol and watching fights. And bets were placed on all the fights, with William’s matches bringing in the most cash. He wasn’t invincible, as his name implied, but he did have an almost one hundred percent winning streak, gaining him a reputation that convinced most people to place high bets on him. The few matches that William did lose were done so on purpose and made William and Charles an exorbitant amount of money. Money they desperately needed to pay off law enforcement and keep the underground club viable and a secret from the general public.

He made his way to the elevated boxing ring in the center of the room as people touched him left and right. Numerous women – street whores, widows, and fallen society ladies – were present to find company. And as he passed an attractive, tall blonde who gawked at him, he French kissed her and she flung her arms around his neck. Whistles flew around them as he crushed his lips to hers, and she practically swooned when he went into the ring.

His opponent tonight was Joseph, a young, new fighter.

Charles had already instructed William that he shouldn’t win this fight easily because the next one was going to be against a lightweight where people would bet ridiculously high amounts on William since they were sure he would win. As much as he hated it, he already knew he wouldn’t be victorious in the next fight.

He stepped through the ropes of the ring and greeted Joseph with a fist bump. William smiled malevolently to taunt Joseph, who was already riled up and moving around William rapidly the moment the bell rang to kick off the match.

With a smug expression, Joseph swung his fist into William’s side. Then Joseph kept darting around William, so William took slow steps to exhaust him and couldn’t refrain from smashing a fist into Joseph’s arrogant face, making him stagger back and drop on his ass. William’s lips quirked up until his eyes met Charles’s – he wasn’t pleased.

Fortunately, Joseph jumped up, and William toned it down, taking a few blows from Joseph until he decided it was enough. Then he buried his fist into Joseph’s left side, and with a final punch to his temple, Joseph hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Our winner! the announcer yelled over the screams of the crowd, holding up William’s arm.

William left the ring instantly with Charles on his trail.

In the corridor leading back to William’s room, Charles stated, You did well.

I fucking detest holding myself back. I could’ve knocked him out with one blow, he seethed.

I know, William. But you love making money, right? Sometimes we do things for the greater good. Put your pride aside. You’re one of the most famous fighters in the Loop, but you cannot fight forever. It will ruin your body and your mind. You know we needed to find additional ways to make money. Have some patience. Once we open up the new underground club, which will attract the aristocrats and the richest citizens of the Loop, we’ll be swimming in money and we won’t need to fix fights anymore. And then you can decrease your number of matches.

William tore his gloves off as they walked through the door.

Sometimes his existence seemed so devoid of life. William prided himself on having learned to be calm and controlled on the outside, and only when he fought, did he unleash the beast inside himself. There had always been a sense of ‘me against the world’ in his mind, but Charles had recognized that unwanted emotion inside William and taught him to channel it into his fights.

However, these days, he couldn’t always release it through his usual outlet anymore. So after holding back during a fight, he still needed to cool down, and lately, he was finding it difficult to get back in control as the adrenaline kept rustling through him wildly. The only way he knew to solve any problem was by fighting, by hurting someone. There was satisfaction in feeling stronger than, not only his opponent, but also everyone else, since as a little boy, he always felt defenseless and trapped in the reality that was his underprivileged past. He had the scars of abuse on his side as a constant reminder.

When do we open the new club? William asked, still slightly aggravated, and sat on the edge of his bed.

Charles took his seat in the chair. Good news. We can open in a week. The decorator is almost done. He kept asking me what we used the equipment for.

They both chuckled.

Are you sure you want to be this intricately involved in the club? Charles inquired.

William was unwrapping the bandages on his hands. I’m looking forward to it. I’m hoping that it will help me wind down after fights.

You’ve learned a lot regarding our new business in the last few weeks, but—Charles pointed to the book with an erotic image on the cover—keep studying the material I gave you. I’ve hired thirty females and ten males. And Charles added in a stern tone, Now clean yourself and put on your suit because we’ve been invited to Rutherford’s soiree.

William groaned in displeasure since that meant coming face-to-face with Anne Rutherford – the girl he left behind in the sacristy with her mother. Do I have to join you?

Yes, it’s imperative for you to keep conversing with businessmen; that will aid you in shedding your lower-class accent. Every once in a while it creeps back up. And you may drive my automobile.

That final statement persuaded William. Deal.

CHAPTER 2

COULDN’T YOU AT LEAST have worn a top hat? Charles reprimanded William as they drove through the bumpy streets of the Loop.

No, you’ll never convince me to wear hats, my old friend. I don’t care if all the rich men are wearing them. Be pleased that I at least wore a vest.

William reviled the shapeless attire that was fashionable at the moment. Instead, he wore vests that emanated his restrained strength. A dark sensuality stamped his features. He always stood out with his clothing and messy strands of hair that fell over his forehead. Tonight, he wore a white dress shirt underneath a light-grey vest, complemented by a black bow tie and black pants. For once, his hair was neatly combed back. As usual, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to expose his tattoos.

It’s a waistcoat, William, not a vest. Charles shook his head as a smile pulled at his lips.

William could never understand why Charles put so much thought into his proper speech and wardrobe. Charles, with his brown hair streaked with silver, always looked dashing. Even though he was only fifty years old and in perfect health, he used a cane, just because it was chic. And for another reason as well: the cane hid a razor-sharp saber.

As William drove up to the front entrance of the cream-colored two-story, he noticed the simplicity of the building. The Rutherfords had a well-built home, but it didn’t scream of opulence. Nevertheless, it was enough to impress William, who came from nothing, and sometimes, he still couldn’t believe he lived among the higher middle class and upper class nowadays.

Rutherford was a British architect without a title, who, like Charles, moved to America to start a new business. Rutherford had become a successful architect, one that Charles always solicited advice from when starting a new venture. He helped to construct Charles’s building and aided in the expansion of the underground first floor that would hopefully become Charles and William’s most prosperous club.

After entering the foyer, William and Charles were greeted by their host.

Charles, William, you’re just in time. Dinner will be served within ten minutes in the front parlor.

I’m going to wash up, William said as a servant took hold of Charles’s hat and cane.

Rutherford answered, Down the hall to your left, William. Then he turned to Charles, and they walked off.

William passed a few guests and dipped his chin in greeting before rounding the corner to the washroom. He came to a sudden stop when he heard a soft moan coming from a room to his right. The door was slightly ajar, and he tilted his head to peek inside. He grinned as he witnessed a woman in a lover’s embrace. The man’s large hands roamed over her blue skirt, down to her luscious ass while she whimpered softly. In turn, her hands found their way into his pockets. The man was murmuring to her, and she let out a low laugh. She had stunning curls in a reddish-brown color that flowed down her back as she arched into the passionate hold.

William knew his rectitude of conduct was considered debased and immoral, but all these people lived the same way he did; they just did it in secret. Typical upper-class behavior.

All of a sudden, he felt a presence creeping up behind him and swiveled around just in time to confront the person. William caught a wrist and backed Anne against the opposite wall, quickly covering her mouth with his hand to prevent her from making a sound. He raised one eyebrow and put a finger to his lips, warning her to be quiet.

His thoughts were consumed by the lady in another man’s arms, who was now whispering something. Her voice held a smoky edge that made William wonder about her face, about who she was.

Anne wriggled, and he hurriedly released her.

William, we need to talk. How could you?! She stomped and raised her hand.

But William caught her wrist in the air, softly stating, Don’t you dare slap me. We don’t need to talk. You and I are done. And he strode to the front parlor while ignoring her pleas to stay.

Today was the first time that William had ever regretted fucking a woman. Because of this mess with Anne’s mother, being with her hadn’t even helped to take the edge off like his various dalliances with the opposite sex normally did. Thank goodness he’d let Anne know up front that it would only happen once. William had his pick of women. Why fuck one woman twice when he could indulge in a different woman every night?

Entering the parlor, he sought out Charles, who was already seated next to Rutherford and his wife, Tabitha.

The entire meal, William was ignoring Anne and Tabitha and watching for a woman in a blue dress with auburn curls to walk in, but she never came. Just when he decided that she was probably still with the man in that room, said man crossed the threshold, looking decidedly unpleased – without her trailing behind him. A crease formed in William’s forehead because he couldn’t imagine where the woman would be during the dinner. Nonetheless, he tried to focus on the conversation around him.

After dinner, the men retreated to another room to smoke, which was apparently a British tradition, but William wasn’t one to put up with traditions and neither were some of the other American men, so they joined the women in the ballroom where a huge chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling, illuminating the entire dance floor.

William snagged a glass of champagne from a passing footman’s tray and downed it in one gulp in time to deposit the empty glass on another, replacing it with a second drink. A smirk flitted across his face when he spotted the woman in the blue dress in the far corner. It had to be her with those curls flowing magnificently to her lower back, the tips ending right above her ass – an ass he could sink his teeth into. Why he needed to see her face, he didn’t know or particularly care. Moving toward her, he noticed how she kept quiet and just observed the men around her.

And when she turned her head, William stopped dead in his tracks. As she stood under the light of the chandelier, he noticed that her hair had a deep reddish glow, a color he had certainly not seen before. She was quite young, not yet a woman. Her skin seemed so soft to the touch. And her face was one he was most likely never to forget. Her eyes were a vibrant blue and magnificently huge, made even more remarkable because of her thick, reddish-brown curls. Her high cheekbones and deliciously plump, pink lips caught his attention next. The lady had an air of innocence and arrogance that had his cock twitching in his pants. She was perusing the room with a perceptive expression, and her eyes passed William before she stopped and slowly looked back at him.

He kept his stare locked on her face. There was something familiar in her features.

Her eyes widened a touch when he started to move toward her little group.

Gentlemen. He shook hands and smiled at her – she didn’t return the favor.

They all greeted him and relayed him with questions about the gaming club. William answered them while stealing glances at the girl, who was starting to look for an escape.

Did she know William had seen her and her lover in the room?

What really bothered him was why no one had introduced her to him.

When a heated political discussion regarding liquor ignited, William took his opportunity to talk to her.

She was standing right across from him now. He noticed that she was neither short nor tall, but somewhere roughly in the middle. And she had a small dusting of freckles on her nose.

I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, Miss...

She arched a perfectly plucked brow but kept silent, leaving William at a loss for words – for the first time ever. She definitely knew he’d caught her in a lover’s embrace.

As he leisurely examined her, he realized she was indeed young but made a considerable effort to look older with makeup and a revealing low cut dress, the swell of her small breasts that were on display absolutely enthralling to him. He took a sip of his drink and kept gawking at her over the rim of his glass since he was enjoying how uncomfortable his attention was making her.

Stop staring at me, she hissed, low enough for only William to hear.

A corner of his mouth slowly rose. Why so shy?

She straightened her back and ran her fingers through her hair, that air of arrogance still surrounding her, and William thought that perhaps she was one of Anne’s juvenile friends.

Where were you during dinner? he wanted to know.

Her lips trembled, and she glanced around anxiously.

Rudely, she spun around to leave, but William stopped her by the elbow, releasing her immediately before anyone saw their encounter.

Then he slipped behind her, without touching, and leaned in close to her ear. Off to another rendezvous?

Her head turned, their lips a breath apart, and she answered while gazing at his mouth, No, not everyone’s like you. At least I have the decency to find the privacy of a room.

Finally, she admitted that she’d seen him too, probably when he’d had Anne pressed against the wall.

Who are you? he blurted, becoming slightly annoyed by her conceit.

She stepped away from him and gave him a brash grin that he felt directly in his cock. Wouldn’t you like to know...

William was completely perplexed by this girl, and all he could think to ask was, How old are you?

She didn’t utter a word.

I’ll find out whether you tell me or not, he added on a whisper.

Without acknowledging his statement, she paced away briskly, leaving the other men oblivious to what had just transpired between the two of them.

William smiled at her retreating form, promising himself to find out more about this smug woman.

CHAPTER 3

THE ENTIRE WEEK PRECEDING the opening of the new club consisted of William and Charles attending parties of the elite to discreetly promote their sex club and immersing themselves in the latest gossip to help them decide which men and women would be offered a secret membership. Not everyone could be allowed in the sex club; discretion was of the utmost importance. It was a risky move to open this kind of sex club in America, even if it was a common, everyday business in Europe. In America, it was unknown territory, and they didn’t exactly know how society would react. However, they did know the workings of a man’s mind, and men would eventually flock to the club because curiosity would win out, and employing the most beautiful women who would make their every fantasy come true would keep them coming back – Charles and William hoped.

Apart from being overly busy with the new club, William and Charles also agreed that William must rapidly cut back on the number of matches he fought. This was William’s request since he’d started to experience muscle pains in his neck and back from years of fighting – a side effect of being a fighter that Charles had warned him about.

So instead of being at the fight club, William was now with Charles, attending another boring ball. Tonight, they were at the Dunn Mansion, built on a grand scale in French style, it had an extensive outer forecourt and a central balconied hall that rose three full stories. The party was a display of wealth. Exactly the kind of place Charles and William needed to be and exactly the kind of place William usually hated.

Charles, who was considered one of the Loop’s upper-class entrepreneurs, had received a formal invitation and demanded that William accompany him.

Standing together in the enormous ballroom that was decorated in rich peach-colored tapestries, William’s dark brows dipped and his eyes narrowed when he spotted the young woman with auburn curls whose name he still hadn’t discovered. With his busy schedule, he’d all but forgotten the haughty girl that taunted him a week ago.

When he started to ask Charles about her, they were interrupted by Jeremy Dechamps, who always took every opportunity to talk down to William. Jeremy was a fighter that had never made it to the top, even with his daddy’s money backing him. And he was jealous that William had made it to the top.

"Kade, what kind of party is this that even you were invited," Jeremy commented.

William completely ignored him, knowing that would aggravate Jeremy the most. Jeremy wasn’t worth his time, especially when he was trying to find out who the girl was.

Who’s that girl? William asked Charles, secretly thankful when Jeremy slinked away.

Charles followed William’s gaze to the woman in a yellow dress who had just entered the room. She seems familiar. I think I’ve seen her before.

Yes, she was at the Rutherfords’ party last week too, William informed him.

Hmm... Ah, yes, she’s Ivy Ravensdale. I saw her nametag that night, and I remember her because of her remarkable hair color. Her father, Alfred, is a British earl. She’s a lady, William. What’s your interest in her?

I have no interest in her, but she refused to give me her name when I met her. She’s fucking arrogant, William ground out, watching her studying everyone with an odd expression on her face.

Charles laughed, causing people’s heads to turn toward them. Look around, William. Most of them are conceited. It’s a trait inherent to the upper class.

There’s something unsettling about the way she’s observing everyone. William’s eyes followed her every move while she was oblivious to his penetrating stare.

Charles tipped back a whiskey shot and set his glass on the table behind them. Forget her. Go mingle. I’m going to insert myself into some conversations as well. Get a feel for who will be interested in access to our new club and who can help us with purchasing more liquor. And he took four steps to the left to join the discussion of a group of men, leaving William alone.

William’s gaze returned like a magnet to Ivy.

And when Ivy finally noticed William, her confident demeanor waned for a split second; William detected it. Ivy tilted her chin up a notch until she had to break their stare-off when a man approached her. Then she edged around the ballroom while a waltz was playing. The dancers in the center of the room kept interfering with his line of vision, but he managed to keep an eye on her. She greeted several people as she passed them, which afforded the perfect opportunity for William to creep up to her.

He closed the distance quickly and whispered into her ear from behind, Why, hello there, Lady Ravensdale.

She spun around so fast that her auburn curls swayed and settled on one shoulder. Instantly, she masked her stunned reaction and retorted, "What do you want, Mr. Kade?" She emphasized his surname, letting him know that she’d inquired about who he was.

William was standing far too close to her, their breath practically mingling as she looked up at him, but she didn’t shy away.

That’s not a proper way to greet a gentleman, William pointed out.

He was drawn to her for no apparent reason. All he knew for sure was that she was the only woman with her hair not in a ridiculous updo, and even if he wouldn’t admit it to her, the way her hair flowed down her yellow dress was gorgeous.

Ivy looked up at him through her lashes. I’m not in the company of a gentleman. She took one step backward and turned on her heel, and he could no longer feel her body heat.

He matched her step and brushed his chest against her back, placing his hands on her biceps and touching her warm, exposed skin – she had surprisingly strong muscles and lean arms. A bolt of desire went through both of them, and she inhaled sharply as William’s eyes lowered to the swell of her breasts. Ivy attempted to act as if she were uninterested in him, which only managed to ignite William’s desire.

Dance with me, he invited.

William knew the rules of society damn well, and a lady was never to decline a gentleman. Still, there was a chance she would, because he could tell that Ivy had been in America for a while since her British accent was very faint.

She huffed in annoyance, actually huffed. William had never had a woman refuse him a dance; normally they flocked to him until he had to practically fence them off. He found himself enjoying her reluctance – a lot.

When Ivy stayed quiet, lost in her thoughts, William brought her back to the present by stroking his knuckles over the exposed skin of her throat, and she lurched away. Ivy glared at him, which made him smile, so he stood even closer to her, making her more uncomfortable.

This is not proper, Mr. Kade.

He paid no mind to her statement. Do you dare to defy your rules of etiquette and deny me a dance?

Ivy was glancing around, but there wasn’t an escape for her. Expelling a breath, she conceded, "Fine, one dance."

William held out his hand with a glorious grin plastered on his face; he was indeed enjoying teasing this woman way too much. She took it, and he entwined his fingers with hers, guiding her into the throng of people dancing in the center of the room. William pulled her close and kept his left hand tangled with hers. Then he stroked his palm down her arm and lifted it to rest on his shoulder.

Her perfume wafted around him, and he was pleased that she was not one to excessively spray it on. It was just a hint of a floral fragrance, a sweet and honeyed smell. Contradictory to her haughty appearance.

She was rigid in his arms but followed his lead, although his hand rested very low on the small of her back, which wasn’t common for a waltz. As they twirled, he spun them into the shadows of a corner, in search of privacy amid the mass of people.

What are you doing? she reprimanded him while he was pressed too close to her, keeping her body in a lock.

William angled his head down slightly because he was much taller than she was. I’m waltzing. Breathe, Ivy. It’s just a dance. I won’t bite.

"This is definitely not the way to waltz. And I think you will bite, she refuted, trying to create a distance and causing his lips to quirk up. Furthermore, please don’t use my first name, Mr. Kade." She was looking anywhere but directly at him.

"I wish you would use my first name. I’m sure you know it. Call me ‘William’, just once, Ivy," he murmured.

She rolled her eyes. Mr. Kade, please just leave me alone after this dance. You bore me to no end.

Liar, he said softly with an icy bite. I don’t bore you, and my dear Ivy, you do the exact opposite to me. He drew her even closer to him. Don’t tempt me. An amused warning was directed at her.

How am I tempting you? she threw back with an absolute bothered countenance.

He gave her a dark, jaded smile and didn’t answer her since he didn’t comprehend himself how she was tempting him. William was having a lot of trouble melting this ice princess, and why he’d actually asked her to dance in the first place evaded him right now. She was exasperating; why did she have an aversion to him? It surprised him that he possessed such an infatuation for this perfect stranger.

As he took