Still, my brain kept wandering back to the gorgeous stranger in the supercar out front. Who was he? Did I have a shot with him? Of course the answer to the second question was no. I was raised by a single mom who made ends meet by marrying and blackmailing men, who had good grades but really had to get some strings pulled to get into Oxford, and without a single refined bone in my body. My mother knew how to act at charity events and that sort of thing, I definitely didn’t.
At exactly 7pm I was ready to go for dinner, and there was a knock on the door. Anita was standing there, smiling.
“Ready?”
“I guess so. I’ve never had this much of a fuss made over dinner before.”
“Well, don’t worry. It’s only like this for special occasions.”
“I hope so,” I mumbled as I followed Anita down the hall. I wasn’t sure I could live life where the act of eating was this much of a spectacle on a daily basis. Still, I supposed I would probably put up with it if I could keep all of the other luxurious facets of this life.
We made our way through the mansion until Anita left me at the entrance to the dining room, which, if it wasn’t for the giant table in the middle, I probably would have mistaken for a ballroom instead. The table had to seat at least thirty people, but instead there were only four plates put out.
Sitting at the head of the table was John Alcott, to his right was my mother, to her right was an empty plate obviously meant for me, but I really only noticed the man sitting at John’s left, the stranger from the driveway.
“Ah, Julianne, I hope you had a pleasant afternoon,” John greeted me in his clipped, upper class English accent.
“I did, thank you. I enjoyed Wuthering Heights immensely, then slept off the jet lag,” I replied, making my way to my mother’s side. I could feel mystery man’s eyes on me, and I was sure my face was glowing crimson.
“I’d like you to meet my son, John Alcott Jr,” he continued, and I froze.
His son? Oh my God. That means… that means this man’s going to be my brother?
Thoughts swirled through my head for so long, I don’t know how long before I snapped out of it and smiled at the guy.
He looked me up and down, openly. Then a contemptuous smile crossed his face. “I go by Jack… sis” he told me, and my temper flared. The way he said it, it was like I was so far beneath him, like I didn’t belong here. He was the sexiest man alive, and he just made me feel like I was nothing with just a couple words.
The worst part was, I was still super, super attracted to him. But I couldn’t be. He was my brother. Right?
I glared at the man and tried not to imagine what the tattoo looked like under his shirt, tried not to think about what he’d look like naked and on top of me.
“John Jr. goes to Oxford as well, I’m sure you’ll see each other on campus quite a bit,” John started, ignoring the obvious tension between the two of us. “He lives in an apartment near the campus, but he still comes by to see his old man from time to time. I asked him here tonight, I thought you should meet the man who will be your brother Julianne, and your son Mary.”
Luckily the conversation was interrupted just then by another staff member (I just could not refer to them as “servants”) came by with the appetiser, a cranberry apple salad and cheese soufflé.
The conversation was light and pleasant, with Jack participating in absolutely none of it. As far as I was concerned that was fine. He had been so rude, I didn’t figure he’d have anything nice to say. I mentioned my desire to try horseback riding and John was nice enough to tell me about the stables on the property, and that I was welcome to see the stableboy and learn to ride whenever I wanted.
When the main course was brought out I dug into my food, trying not to steal glances at the Adonis sitting across the table from me, the Adonis with an attitude. Jack Alcott. I was glad he didn’t live here, though it suddenly came back to me what Anita said about his room being right next to mine. Well, hopefully he wouldn’t stay the night.
At the same time, a part of me still found myself daydreaming about being alone in my room at night, and having him sneak through the empty halls, come into my room, and…
Nope. Stop thinking about that. Absolutely not. He’s your stepbrother now.
So why couldn’t I get him out of my head?
Chapter Three
I’d like to say the rest of dinner passed uneventfully and we all moved on with our lives, but that would be a lie.
I could tell straight away that there was tension between John and Jack. I mean, how could one avoid it? John’s son was loud, crass, and obviously trying to avoid the upper class noble image of his father. I figured it was just the only son in the family acting out, and I could tell it was getting on John’s nerves.
“So, John, how are your classes going at University?” the father asked his son, obviously ignoring his son’s nickname preference.
“Fine. You know. Capitalist profs. Rorting rich parents for a degree that might get their child a slightly better paying job than they’d get without the fancy University name, rich pricks who think they’re entitled to everything. The usual.”
“John, we’re trying to have a nice meal.”