Falling for Fitz (2 page)

“
Please,” she whispered,
searching his eyes, the image of her almost-packed suitcase in her
cousin’s dark bedroom torturing her. “This is all we have
left.”

It surprised her to see
flash of pain in his eyes, followed swiftly by anger and then by
grief. All in the course of a second. She panted lightly, wondering
if he would climb off her body and walk away from her into the
night, but he didn’t. As he stared at her, his face softened with
some undefined feeling. Certainly tenderness.
Maybe even love
, her heart
whispered.

He caressed her face gently, then
leaned down to kiss her again. His lips were soft and firm, his
tongue seeking, as his thumbs swiped the tears off her cheeks. He
was so gentle, so loving and careful, her body relaxed around him,
little by little, until the shock and initial pain of his intrusion
subsided. Her fingers loosened their grip on his hips, and she ran
them up his back, feeling him shiver lightly from the featherlike
touch. He kissed her harder and deeper as she threaded her hands
through his hair, finally arching her back to let him know she was
ready for him to move again.

He licked her lips as he pulled back
slightly, then slid forward into her wet heat with groan. “Daisy,
I… I…”

“
Fitz.” She sighed as he
filled her, as the nerve-endings deep inside of her body
experienced the deliciously warm, intimate contact with another
human being for the first time in her life.

“
So, good. It’s so good,
Daisy,” he groaned into her mouth. “I want… I mean, I want you to
know that I…”

So overwhelmed by the physical
sensations in her body, she leaned up hungrily to kiss him again,
lacing her fingers behind his neck and letting her ankles slide up
the length of his long legs as he drew back and plunged forward
again. She locked her ankles behind his back and as his thrusts got
deeper and faster, a wonderful, warm pressure started building
between her legs. She cried out as the first waves of pleasure
crashed over her, causing the muscles deep in her body to tremble
faster and stronger until they exploded, pulsing around him,
contracting and releasing in rhythmic surges. She felt him swell
within her, his movements deep and swift, until every muscle tensed
and he called out her name, convulsing with shudders before
dropping, exhausted, on top of her.

She had no idea how much time passed
before she finally opened her eyes to the same stars that she’d
been watching before they’d had sex. They still glittered white and
silver against the deep, dark blanket of night sky. But they were
different now. Just a little different, a little brighter, maybe,
and a little farther away.

Fitz leaned on his elbows and smiled,
his bright, happy eyes searching hers before he brushed Daisy’s
lips tenderly with his.

“
Let’s lie here all night,”
he murmured impulsively. “Let’s lie here just like this until the
sun comes up.”

She smiled back at him, pulling on his
neck to find his lips again, feeling closer to him than she’d ever
felt to anyone, knowing with every cell of her seventeen-year-old
body that she would never love anyone as much as she loved
Fitzpatrick English.

...until the sun comes
up.

Sometime between now and
then, she would tell him. She would tell him that she loved him,
because she wasn’t afraid anymore. They’d just shared the most
perfect, the most mind-blowing, most profoundly intimate experience
of her life. She’d live on this moment as her mother moved out, and
her father cried, and she started her senior year of high school in
New Jersey while Fitz’s plane flew overhead jetting toward London.
And one day—one day—they’d find each other again when the time was
right. Deep in Daisy’s heart she was sure:
this is only the beginning of Fitz and Daisy.

“
Okay,” she whispered
against his lips. He grinned at her before pulling out of her body,
then rolled to his side to sit on the edge of the lounger and
dispose of the condom.

His horrified gasp filled the quiet of
the night.

“
Oh, no. No, no, no, no.
Oh, God. God
damn
it.”

Daisy bolted upright on the chair,
reaching for his shoulder, and he turned to look at her, his face a
fierce combination of desperation and disbelief. Her heart raced so
fast she couldn’t distinguish one beat from the next as they
combined to create a throbbing, thumping heaviness such that Daisy
had never known.

“
What?’ she gasped, even
though she already knew. She could feel it, deep inside of her
body: the hot, wet evidence of his recent orgasm.

He took a ragged breath.

“
It broke, Daisy. Oh my
God, it broke.”

Fitzpatrick English walked into the
ballroom at the Hotel DuPont in Wilmington, Delaware, stood in the
doorway and sighed. Unlike Barrett, Alex, and Weston, three of his
four brothers, who all enjoyed a night out with the best of Main
Line society, Fitz wasn’t a huge fan of these sorts of gatherings.
All things equal, he’d just as soon be at home watching college
football in sweats and drinking a cold beer, but Barrett had
insisted he attend.

Fitz envied his younger brother,
Stratton, who had declined invitations to these sorts of events for
so long, no one even expected him to say “yes” anymore. Stratton
was probably at home in his den-like penthouse, feet up on the
coffee table, glass of merlot half-finished and some terrific book
on his Kindle. Stratton probably didn’t even own a tux anymore.
Fitz put a finger into the starched white collar of his shirt and
wiggled it slightly, turning the valet stub over and over in his
hands as if contemplating a getaway.

“
Hello,
second-born.”

An arm was suddenly laced through his,
and he looked down to find his mother, Eleanora Watters English,
beaming at him.

“
Evening, Mom.”

“
It’s lovely you showed up.
I know these things aren’t your favorite.”

Fitz sighed. “Barrett has a
way…”

“
Barrett had
always
had a way.
However, I will say that the last two months have been void of his
usual intensity over business, swapped for his intensity over Emily
Edwards. It’s been a refreshing change to see him madly in love
with something other than a deal.”

As Eleanora led them through the crowd
toward the table Barrett had purchased for them at the Twenty-Third
Annual Kindred Hospital Harvest Ball Fundraiser, Fitz caught sight
of his older brother. Barrett always looked like James Bond in a
tux, to the manor born, while Fitz always felt a bit like an
imposter. He knew all the rules of polite society, of course, but
it all felt a little stale after so many years of compliance. He
longed for something to shake him up as Emily Edwards had shaken up
Barrett. Looking ahead, he caught sight of his older brother who
had his arm wrapped around Emily’s waist, talking to another couple
who had their backs to Fitz. Occasionally Barrett would look down
and smile at Emily, and Fitz almost blushed at the intensity in his
brother’s gaze. Fitz could barely remember feeling that way about
someone. It had only been for such a short time, so long ago,
sometimes it felt more like a dream than a brief, caustically
significant, part of his life.

“
Usual cast of characters
tonight?”

“
Not exactly. The English
have been invaded… by the Edwards,” she said, forced humor thick in
her manicured voice. “Emily invited her parents to join
us.”

Although she never voiced concerns
about her oldest son seriously dating the daughter of the gardener
with an eye to engagement, Fitz suspected his mother had had some
initial misgivings. However, from the way she looked at Barrett and
Emily now, it seemed those misgivings had been exchanged for
acceptance. Emily made Barrett happy, and in the end, that would
trump anything else where his mother's sensibilities were
concerned. She loved her five boys more than anything, and their
happiness came first. Though mixing it up socially with one’s help
wasn’t exactly commonplace, if anyone could pull it off with
panache, it was Eleanora English.

Fitz looked over the heads of a few
guests to see Susannah and Felix Edwards sitting at the table.
Emily’s father Felix, the head gardener of the family estate, was
in an animated conversation with Fitz’s father, Tom, while Emily’s
mother, Susannah, spoke tête-à-tête with Weston, who was probably
untangling some crisis of the heart with their beloved
housekeeper.

“
I assume nine and ten are
Alex and whomever he brought with him tonight?”

“
No, dearest.” Eleanora
stopped them a few feet from the table, and turned to look at Fitz,
her eyes careful, but searching. “I did say an
invasion
by the Edwards. Felix and
Susannah are practically family these days. They wouldn’t exactly
constitute an invasion.”

Fitz stared at his mother’s face, not
understanding her meaning. “But there are no other Edwards… Felix,
Susannah, and Emily, that’s all—”

Suddenly he jerked his head around to
look at the couple Barrett and Emily were talking to. From behind,
the woman had long, straight blond hair, just like Emily’s, that
ended in the center of her bare back. He narrowed his eyes,
squinting, as he made out the light brown birthmark that looked
like a heart, right in the center of her lower back, right over the
midnight blue silk that covered her perfect ass. He had a sudden,
blinding flashback to staring at that birthmark over tiny, bright
yellow bikini bottoms, and his heart kicked into a
gallop.

“
Daisy Edwards,” he
murmured, exhaling the contents of his lungs.

As though she heard him or sensed him,
Daisy turned her neck, catching sight of him as her chin rested on
her shoulder. His heart slammed behind his ribs as she blinked in
surprise, and her eyes widened. Their eyes stayed locked on each
other, spellbound and greedy, until Emily said something to Daisy,
and she turned back quickly to face her cousin. The ten or twelve
feet apart from her was suddenly unbearable and as though Fitz was
made of iron and she was a magnet, he felt pulled to her in an
uncompromising way, compelled to move closer to the force of nature
that was Daisy Edwards.

His mother’s arm, still linked with
his, stopped him.

“
It was a million years
ago, Fitz.”

It didn’t feel like a million years
ago. Nine years slipped away and suddenly it felt like
yesterday.

“
It was for the best,”
insisted Eleanora.

It didn’t feel like it had been for
the best. Not at the time and not now and not every time he thought
of her between then and now.

“
I thought she was in
Oregon,” he said tightly.

“
She was. She’s moved back
east. Her mother’s passed and her father’s all she has
left.”

“
She’s moved to
Philly
? Did you
know?”

“
No,” replied his mother.
“I didn’t even know she was coming tonight. Emily invited her at
the last minute when Stratton refused to come.”

His breath caught as Daisy gathered
her hair in her hands and twirled it once, then settled it over one
shoulder, baring her neck to him. The graceful line made his mouth
water, made his fingers twitch, made a hundred buried memories
fight for his attention.

“
Listen to me, Fitz,” said
his mother, leaning closer to his ear. “There’s something else you
need to know.”

Fitz tore his eyes from Daisy and
looked at his mother, commanded by the seriousness of her tone.
“You may not have noticed, but she isn’t alone.”

He whipped his head around and for the
first time he noticed that the man standing beside her was holding
her hand, with his fingers laced possessively through Daisy’s. His
mother’s voice was close to his ear and delivered the words he
somehow knew were coming, though it didn’t lessen the impact of the
blow.

“
She’s come home for
another reason, dearest. Daisy’s getting married.”

He flinched, his teeth drawing blood
from his lower lip.

Fitz knew, of course, in a
theoretical, vague sort of way that Daisy had her own life, that
she’d probably get married one day and settle down. And as long as
she was living across the country, out of sight, she was mostly out
of mind, too. He thought of her often, even after nine years—that
gorgeous smile, her throaty laugh, the way her blue eyes had
followed him and adored him that summer so long ago, the way her
bright smile would get him to do things no one else could get him
to do. His memories were still sharp from regular perusal—as one
might look at an album of photographs once a month— but the barrier
of distance had been kind, allowing Fitz to keep any conscious,
viable feelings at bay.

Except at night sometimes.
If he woke up after dreaming of her, he could feel the phantom
pressure of her lips beneath his, the way her pulse throbbed in her
neck under his fingers, her bright eyes looking up at his
window,
one last time
…

And during the day sometimes. If he
saw a woman who looked like her, he could be tricked into thinking
that Daisy had moved back East and that she didn’t despise him as
she’d made clear the last time he saw her. A whole fantasy would
unfurl in his heart for a few quiet moments before he’d realize
that the woman he saw was not Daisy, and the fantasy was
impossible.