Page 40 of Wicked Lord

The ominous twist of his lips poured cold trepidation through my bloodstream. “We’ll see.”

CHAPTER 18

A FINANCIAL TRANSACTION

Lorelei

“What’s wrong?” I eyed Axel as we walked up the gray cobblestone slabs toward the entrance of our summer house. A warm breeze flitted over the bluff, lifting the hair off my neck. Normally, this place put me at ease, but tonight my stomach was in knots.

And either Ax was feeding off my vibe on the ride over or there was something else going on.

A pale imitation for his usual warm smile tipped up the corners of his lips. “Nothing, blondie, I’m good.”

“You don’t seem good.” I jerked him to a stop at the foot of the steps and took in his crisp, button-down shirt and the broad slope of his shoulders in the dark jacket. He was picture perfect. “Does this have something to do with you disappearing yesterday?”

He shook his head, heaving a breath. “It’s just fraternity stuff. Nothing you have to worry about.”

“Are you sure? I thought you were getting cold feet about meeting my parents.”

The smile finally reached his eyes this time. “Nah, parents love me, and grandmas… like taking candy from a baby.”

An unexpected laugh bubbled out. “Well, Nanna won’t be here tonight, but I’ll definitely keep that in mind for next time.”

Next time? Where did that come from? There was only one mandatory dinner with the family according to our fake relationship rules. I pressed my lips into a tight line and fidgeted with the plunging neckline of my floral sundress. If Axel was weirded out by the faux pas, he didn’t act like it. Instead, he linked his arm through mine and ushered me up the steps of the elegant Cape Cod.

“Let’s not keep them waiting, huh?” He dug his elbow into my side and coaxed out a half smile.

I paused at the final step and hauled Ax to a stop beside me. “You sure you have the story down?”

“Yes, Lore, you only made me repeat it ten times in the car on the way over.”

“Okay, good.” Drawing free of his hold, I rubbed my hands together, determined to ignore my moist palms. Why was I so damned nervous? He was right, my parents would love him. He was handsome, the star quarterback and most importantly, uber-rich.

When we reached the door, he stepped in front of me and opened it, dipping his head in a gentlemanly bow. “After you, Lorelei.”

As I crossed the threshold into the foyer, a pair of curious eyes lanced over us. Daddy stood at the foot of the staircase, observing every second of our interaction. I’d have to thank Axel later for pulling that chivalrous door opening crap.

“Good evening,” Father muttered, a cold edge to his typically frigid tone. I hadn’t called him in the morning like I’d promised. Instead, I’d been avoiding him like the plague.

Gisella appeared from around the corner with a warm smile. “Hello, Miss Lorelei, we’ve missed you around the house this summer.”

“Thanks, G. I’ve been swamped at school and with all the fundraising events for the sorority…”

She dipped her head, wisps of silver hair falling free from her tight bun. “I understand, Miss.”

Holding out her hand, she offered to take Axel’s jacket. As he shrugged off the navy blazer, Mom sauntered in with a martini in hand. “Oh, good, you’re here,” she crooned.

Judging by her beaming smile and the glossy look in her eye, this was not her first drink of the evening, nor would it be her last.

Giving her now empty glass to Gisella, she smiled, eyes intent on my date. “You must be Axel, I’m Greta. We’ve heard so much about you. I believe your mother and I headed a fundraiser to end domestic violence a few years ago.”

“That definitely sounds like Mom. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Battenberg.”

She playfully slapped Axel’s shoulder, and a high-pitched giggle slipped out. “Oh, please, call me Greta. Mrs. Battenberg is Grayson’s mother.” Her nostrils flared, mouth puckering.

She wasn’t exaggerating either, Grandma B was kind of a bitch. Her mother, Nanna, was the more pleasant of the two, but even with Axel’s charm around grandmas, I wouldn’t force him to endure either of them for long.

“It’s a pleasure, Greta.” Axel flashed her an award-winning smile, and my mother batted her false lashes as she slid her hand down his arm, squeezing his bicep.