Addicted to Mr. Parks (The Park #2) (30 page)

“I’ll leave you women to it.” Parks dipped to kiss me, then headed back to his laptop.

“Miss Banks, I’ll be doing your makeup today. My name is Kim, and Chelsea here is your hairstylist.”

Chelsea gave a small, enthusiastic wave and ushered me over to a standalone chair. After plonking me down, she ran her hands through my hair, quickly studying the mass of lengthy chocolate-brown. Meanwhile, Kim placed around fifty makeup products onto the table nearby and also got to work after staring at my light olive skin and amber eyes.

“Are you not going to ask me what I’d like?” What I would have really liked was to have the poking and prodding come to a stop and to do my own damn hair and makeup.

“Oh.” The girls looked at each other sheepishly. “Mr. Parks has already told us what he’d like,” Kim informed me, a little confused.

Why was I
not
surprised? “And what did the Oh Mighty One request?”

The girls didn’t get my humour, so they just smiled stiffly to each other before Kim answered again. “He would like your makeup natural and your hair up in a ponytail.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “How much is he paying you to do a job I could have done myself?” Granted, I shouldn’t have taken my pissy mood out on the girls. Ungrateful was not what I intended to sound like. However, not having my own choice made me a little icy. “Sorry,” I said but decided I wouldn’t be told what to do. “Scrap the ponytail. I want it down. Wavy. I want my makeup glamorous. Do smoky eyes. Just leave before Parks sees you.”

Chelsea glanced to Kim, who nodded, and they got to work.

My hair was waved and tamed beautifully, my chocolate locks falling stunningly past my shoulders. My makeup was smoky, seductive, and far from natural. My chances of getting away with the changed makeup plan was nil to none. Only Parks would know the difference between natural and heavy makeup, but I was ready for the fight. I felt contented that I’d chosen something he didn’t want and got my own way.

Thanking the girls when their work was complete, I quickly ushered them out of the room for their sakes.

I got myself into the dress, finding it quite easy to zip up at the back myself, then went to find Parks. He was standing before a long mirror in the bathroom, and I took the chance to absorb every magnificent, defined, hard inch of him. His physique looked remarkable in a midnight blue, double-breasted tuxedo tailored to perfection. But he looked stunning in everything. Especially a tuxedo. He owned it. He owned looking like a suit god. I couldn’t help inhaling his scent whilst staring at him. Everything tightened in my stomach, sexual tension and frustration building by the second.

“God, you’re a handsome sonofabitch,” I purred, prowling like a lioness towards him. His gaze left his reflection as I met him, and I couldn’t help but touch at his bow tie.

“You have your hair down,” he said straightaway. I kissed his lips, gently nibbling on the bottom one, then pulled away.

“Get over it.”

He flashed a menacing smile that both excited me and speared at my nerves. “You love to disobey my wishes, Evelyn. And
I
love punishing your disobedience.”

I breathed against his lips. “Don’t you like it?”

He ran his fingers through my hair gently, pushing it back behind my shoulders. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. But I had a reason for requesting your hair be tied up.”

Okay, that halted my victory. “Oh?”

His perfectly arched brow rose. “Yes, ‘oh.’ Turn around and close your eyes.”

What was he up to? “Serious?”

“Do it,” he urged on a smile. I rolled my eyes, then turned around to face the mirror and closed my lids. I could hear him fidgeting with something in the background, then I felt him near, and then something cold and heavy was placed upon my neck. It was a necklace—that much was obvious. He clasped it, made sure it was positioned, then told me to open my eyes.

I gasped when I caught my reflection. “Oh, my…” My hand instinctively went up to touch the necklace that made its presence known. A sapphire-blue, heart-shaped pendant with diamonds around it, resembling the Heart of the Ocean.

My hands were shaking. My childhood wish that one day I would own a necklace just like the one on
Titanic
suddenly came crashing true, all because Parks listened and cherished my every word and made sure whatever I wished and hopelessly hoped for would come alive.

“Wade,” I croaked, tears threatening to ruin my makeup. “I can’t accept this. This is—”

“—simply stunning,” he breathed.

My heart was beating viciously. “It is, but it’s too much. I can’t believe you actually remembered what I said.”

“What have I told you?” He frowned, snaking his arms around my waist. “I remember everything you say. Soak it up like a sponge.” His smile was priceless as he adjusted the necklace, then held me like I was his delicate rose, too precious to ruin or hurt. “I want to treat you like a princess, Evelyn. Every day. I have something else.”

I gulped. “You do?”

“Follow me.” He took my hand and led me back into the lounge area. Letting go of my hand, he walked to the dining table and picked up a beautiful square box. My eyes were narrowed, anticipating.

“I wanted to get you something where you can keep your necklace and your ruby.”

My heart was thrashing against my chest as he pulled out a beautiful silver jewellery box embossed with silver roses. My gaze drifted from it and up into his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

He tilted his head to the side and smiled. “That’s not the best part. Listen.” Carefully, he opened up the hinged lid, and I saw my gorgeous ruby he had gifted me. Then I heard the soft lullaby playing from inside. Although it was just an instrumental version, I recognised it instantly, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

“My grandmother’s song,” I choked. The song was “Smile” by Nat King Cole. A song my nan would sing to me until I fell asleep. “You did this for me?” It was useless to try and save my makeup. Tears had already escaped.

Parks glanced down at the music box. “I know how much it means to you to have memories of your grandmother. I thought it was perfect.”

An incredible ache thrashed against my heart. Feelings I had no idea that could possibly exist were rushing through my veins like wildfire, especially because his eyes were doting on me, showing me how much I meant to him. And oh, he meant so much to me.
Every day
he meant
so
much to me. This man made a nobody like me feel cherished, and there was no way in a lifetime I could ever repay him for making me feel alive after so many years of feeling dead and empty inside.

Knocking back daft tears, I shook myself into the moment and started to live in it. “You’re definitely the right prince for me. Thank you so much. This means so much.”

“No need to thank me, beautiful.” He pulled me into his solid body and suddenly thrust into me evidence of his erection.

“You’re hard.” I gasped as he brushed his cock along my sex.

“And
we’re
late, so there’s fuck all I can do about it.”

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Cleaver drove us towards a beautiful Mediterranean-style mansion. We went through three sets of iron gates and past a security house, and that was before we’d driven up the half a mile tree-lined drive with views of breathtaking vineyards. The grounds looked stunning as the sun turned to dusk, dusting burnt orange and dark yellows across the land.

“Wow. How many bloody rooms does this house have?” The gawping and the
wows coming from every angle of my mouth amused Parks thoroughly.

“Twelve bedrooms. Twenty-three bathrooms.”

My jaw dropped. “What the hell do you do with twenty-three bathrooms?”

Parks ignored me and explained our plan. “We’ll be going straight to the ball, but you can see the house later.”

“We’re staying here tonight?”

“Hmm. My mother’s wishes.” His answer was grumpy.

As we pulled up at the large circled driveway, there was already a long line leading to the huge marquee. Car after car of people were arriving, and I could see the vast amount of celebrities, high-end business moguls, and wealthy bodies all getting out of their cars and making their way onto a long, stretched-out carpet.

“How many people are here?” I couldn’t have possibly counted them all.

“A few hundred.” Parks was calmly stroking my knuckles with his thumb, watching my reactions. Cleaver was just behind two other cars before it was our turn to climb out.

“We have to walk along a red carpet?”

“Well—” he shrugged, quickly glancing out the window, “—technically, it’s a plum carpet. The colour of my mother’s charity.”

My panic was building. The closer we got, the more I could see.

“There are photographers? You said you didn’t want us photographed together.”

“America is different than London, Evelyn. London tabloids love drama, breakups, depressing news.” He frowned when he saw my mouth forming an
O
to breathe. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s all just a bit big. New. That’s all. One day I’m living a life of darkness and broken pieces, and the next I’m dating one of the most well-known businessman internationally and being chauffeured around.” I pointed towards the photographers. “Having my photo taken in a mansion that has twenty-three bathrooms.” Drawing in deep breath, I told myself I needed to take time out, but it only enhanced Parks’s concern.

“We can go home if you want. Tell me what you want,” he pushed.

I took another breath and told myself to stop being stupid. Yes, there were lots of people. Yes, I didn’t deserve to be there. Yes, my anxiety was pushing through the roof, but I could cope.

“I want to go in. I’m fine.”

Parks kissed my cheek, his body failing to hide his relief. “Okay, baby.”

Cleaver opened the door for us, and Parks stepped out first. Bending down, he held out his hand for me to take. Taking another deep breath, I placed my palm in his hand. He clasped my hand firmly when I climbed out and gave me a quick, reassuring nod. Then it was our turn to walk towards the entrance of the marquee. As soon as we stepped onto the long plum carpet, the photographers went wild.

“Wade Parks…who’s your beautiful lady?”

We posed on the carpet in front of a white board that had the logo of the charity. Written across a picture of two purple hands coming together, one small and one large, was:

COA

Flash after flash went off, almost blinding me, and the yelling from the men that was hitting us from all angles was so loud and obnoxious. Telling us to look left, look right. Telling us to kiss. Surprisingly, Parks
did
dip down to kiss me, taking my lips gentle and quick. I stared up at him adoringly because his kiss enabled me to forget the madness for a second, until they started going crazy from the kiss.

“Enough.” Parks pulled me away from hundreds of flashing lights, which I was extremely grateful for. “Are you okay?”

I wanted to say no, that it was a bit overwhelming, but I smiled. “I’m fine.”

Hand in hand, we walked through a set of gorgeous purple drapes and into the marquee. I’d never seen a space so big. Small spotlights that resembled stars covered the roof, and beautifully dressed lilac chairs stood around circular tables with mesmerizing decoration. Stunning centrepieces graced the tables, each of which included tall glass vases holding a beautiful arrangement of all kinds of purple flowers, entwined with gorgeous silver beading. The marquee’s drapes inside were also a shade of purple and wonderfully blended in with the rest of the detailed décor.

Soaking it all up made me feel even worse. If that wasn’t bad enough, what Parks said next forced my angst to peak.

“I’d like you to meet my mother before dinner.” Green, tender eyes were looking into my soul, anticipating my reaction. Not wanting to show my nervousness, I forced a genuine smile. But as Parks interlaced his fingers into mine and steered me effortlessly through the crowd towards his mother, I had visions of myself quickly legging it back to the hotel.

Parks gently tapped a woman on her shoulder, and when she turned around, her smile could have lit up Blackpool Tower. It was his mother.

Harriet was shorter than I, and her blonde hair was fixed up neat and pristine. The pearl beads that decorated her neck made her look like a movie star, and her blue eyes sparkled with warmth.

“Mom, I would like you to meet Evelyn Banks. My girlfriend.” I glanced up at him quickly, catching his warm smile.
Girlfriend
. I would be crazy to say that the word didn’t wash a gush of hormonal delight through me. The commitment we were building was a work in progress, but every time he gave me a label and introduced me as his girlfriend, it felt divine.

“Evelyn, what a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Welcome.” She leaned in to kiss me on both cheeks, a gesture I was unfamiliar with, so I reacted a little awkward. “Wade has never brought a woman home before, so you can imagine how thrilled I am. My son is an introvert, you see.” She winked. It was clear she’d indulged in a little Botox. Her forehead was a smooth as baby’s bottom, but the corners of her eyes held wrinkles to balance it out.

“Thank you. You have a beautiful home.” My manners surprised both myself and Parks, but I added something that made me feel more
me
. “And a beautiful son.”

Parks chuckled, glancing at me adorably while Harriet laughed.

“That I do, my dear.” She stroked Parks’s face tenderly, which made him stiffen. I felt his hand tightened around mine. It was strange.

I came to the conclusion that I liked Harriet very much. She was kind and genuine, but something made me feel like she was acting. Not about liking me, but holding pretences.

Maybe I was wrong.

Harriet turned slightly to give a small wave at a passerby, giving me full view of her beautiful, straight-cut, purple dress. The straps sat just above her shoulders and gave her that elegant look of sophistication.

“Have you seen your father, Wade?” I sensed a hidden meaning in her question. Maybe even hope?

Parks stiffened immensely, and his mother noticed it too. “Not now, Mother.”

Harriet shrugged off his sudden mood playfully and was about to converse with me until a little girl with platinum-blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes ran up to Parks and adorably hugged his leg.

“Uncle Wade.” She was no older than seven, and I assumed she was Jasmine’s child, even though she didn’t look like Jasmine at all.

Parks ruffled her hair affectionately and bent down to kiss her forehead. “Abigail,” he crooned.

“Who’s this?” She smiled up at me, angelically clasping her hands in front of her on a small sway.

“This is Evelyn.” Parks’s smile remained as he introduced me.

“Oh.” She giggled, leaning into Parks and making him bend down a little by pulling on his sleeve. “Is she your girlfriend?”

He rose on a laugh. “She is.”

Abigail did another small giggle, then smoothed my dress. “I like your dress.”

I grinned, touching hers like she did mine. “I like yours too.”

“Let’s go find your father, shall we, Abigail?” Harriet took hold of the small girl’s hand and tuned to me. “Evelyn, please excuse me.”

As soon as they were out of sight, I turned to Parks. “Abigail is your mum’s?”

Parks tipped his head stiffly in acknowledgment to a man passing by and took my hand.

“Yes. Come meet my grandparents.”

Really? Sure Harriet was beautiful and young-spirited, but she must have been in her late fifties. “How old is she?” My question was prying and I hated that I came across as cheeky, but it came out of my mouth before I gave it much thought. As usual.

“Seven.”

I scoffed. “I meant your mother. Why did Abigail call you uncle if you’re her brother?” Parks had explained that Jasmine was his only sibling. It was odd.

“Does it matter?” I could feel his tension. He didn’t feel comfortable talking about the subject, and I wondered if it was because his mother had another child at an older age.

We were on our way to his meet grandparents, but not before we were stopped by another gentleman. It was getting quiet tiresome. We couldn’t walk an inch without someone interrupting.

“Wade, you have a woman on your arm. This is rare.” The small, balding gentleman playfully punched Parks in the forearm, which gained him a scowl. The man was in his midthirties and had a ridiculous amount of bum fluff that rested just under his bottom lip.

“Evey.” I smiled when I introduced myself. He took my hand, ready to kiss my knuckles, but Parks gently pulled my hand away, leaving his lips pouting in midair.

“Stanley,” Parks warned the gentleman off stiffly, then pulled me in another direction.

“Why did you pull my hand away?” I hissed as he led me deeper into the marquee.

“I don’t want another man’s lips on your skin.”

“Serious?”

“Deadly.” And by the firm setting of his mouth, he was.

We couldn’t find Parks’s grandparents, but we had tons of others to get through. Parks showed me off and introduced me to many. I smiled, remained polite, and chatted because it was expected of me. That was until Parks introduced me to a French couple. The man was overly polite, even though he kept staring at my tits. But his wife was rude and obnoxious, trying to shun me out of the conversation so she could have Parks all to herself. I tapped my heel restlessly as they conversed in French, and when she moved to the side, almost knocking me out of the circle, I flipped.

“You know, it’s fucking rude to flirt with a man that is holding another woman’s hand.”

“Excuse me?” she said in a French accent, her face all innocent. Parks squeezed my hand as a slight warning to calm down, but I ignored him.

“You heard me. I am Wade’s girlfriend, so if you don’t want to involve me in your conversation—which I quite frankly don’t want to be part of—then you can go find some other idiot to flash those fake eyelashes at.”

The woman turned to Parks, utterly speechless. “Are you going to allow her to speak to me this way?”

“Yes.” Parks nodded stiffly. He didn’t agree with my behaviour, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to back me up. Completely dumfounded, she gawped at him, mumbled something French under her breath, and turned on her heel to leave.

“What did she say?” I was raring to go after her, but Parks pulled me back and steered me away.

“Leave it, Princess.”

The night went well after that, but what wasn’t going well was the glances Parks would give me when the servers came around asking us if we’d like a drink. I didn’t need one, but he kept me in check, declining for me and looking at me accusingly. It was bugging me. I drank water and he drank watermelon, which seemed to only be served for him, and as we conversed, I could see Jasmine. You couldn’t miss the shade she was continuing to throw my way with her eyes alone. I wanted to march right over and ask her what the hell her problem was. I knew Parks was stalling our meeting, so I took it upon myself to make it happen.

“Shall we go say hi to Jasmine?”

“Soon,” he said before pressing his lips to my temple. My mind trailed off, pissed, but as I listened to him talk within a group of men about a new business venture, he proved to me how sexy and in his element he was. I hung on his every word, stared doe-eyed into his eyes, and watched his mouth curve sexily as he spoke. As soon as the other men began to talk, though, I got bored and glanced around the hall. It was then I saw a petite blonde making her way towards me. She was gorgeous in a long, gold dress with a train draped in feathers.

“Hi. I’m Nadia.” She air-kissed me once.

“Evey.” I nodded curiously, studying her intentions.

“I just have to ask—” she flapped her hand, “—are your boobs real? They are magnificent.”