Delicate Dame (Adair Legacy Book 4)

  Delicate Dame

  Adair Legacy

  Book 4

  KL Donn

  Copyright © 2022 by KL Donn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Photographer: Lindee Robinson Photography

  Models: Justin & Mackenzie

  Cover Design & Formatting: Alluring Write Productions

  Editor: KA Matthews

  Contents

  Adair Empire/Legacy

  Blurb

  1. Scotlyn

  2. Jax

  3. Scotlyn

  4. Scotlyn

  5. Jax

  6. Jax

  7. Jax

  8. Jax

  9. Scotlyn

  10. Carver

  Epilogue

  Next in the Adair Legacy

  Other books in the Series

  About the Author

  Also by KL Donn

  Dedication

  For all the Dominic and Carver fans, this ones for you!

  Adair Empire/Legacy

  Family Tree

  King & Lilith Adair (King: Adair Empire Book 1)

  Holden (Noelle) Adair – Killer Prince: Adair Legacy Book 3

  Aria (Seven & Severo) Adair – Broken Princess: Adair Legacy Book 1

  Luther & Ariel Sutton (Luther: Adair Empire Book 2)

  Nolan (Bea) Sutton – Dark Knight: Adair Legacy Book 5

  Lake (Saint) Sutton – Vicious Saint: Adair Legacy Book 8

  Damien (Whitney & Santo) Sutton – Forbidden Temptress: Adair Legacy Book 9

  Castiel & Talia Adair (Castiel: Adair Empire Book 3)

  Hadley (Ashton) Adair – Tortured Duchess: Adair Legacy Book 2

  Hendrix (Miabella) Adair – Vengeful Pawn: Adair Legacy Book 6

  Atticus & Catalina Kincaid (Atticus: Adair Empire Book 4)

  Bishop (Cordelia) Kincaid – Damaged Bishop: Adair Legacy Book 7

  Easton (Stella) Kincaid – Beautiful Devil: Adair Legacy Book 10

  Carver & Meadow Rivers (Carver: Adair Empire Book 5)

  Scotlyn (Jaxson) Rivers – Delicate Dame: Adair Legacy Book 4

  Saint (Lake) Rivers – Vicious Saint: Adair Legacy Book 8

  Dimitri, Danika, & Daniel Petrov-Corelli (Trinity: Adair Empire Book 6)

  Seven (Aria) Petrov-Corelli – Broken Princess: Adair Legacy Book 1

  Severo (Aria) Petrov-Corelli – Broken Princess: Adair Legacy Book 1

  Santo (Damien & Whitney) Petrov-Corelli – Forbidden Temptress Adair Legacy Book 9

  Authors note: While the Adair Legacy books can all be read as complete standalones and, in any order, I do suggest reading the Adair Empire series in order of books 1-6.

  Blurb

  From USA Today Bestselling Author KL Donn comes an all-new obsessive, single dad meets prima ballerina, dark contemporary romance.

  My parents fell madly in love when I was a kid. Now they have it in their heads that I need the same thing.

  Convinced to try a blind date, I didn’t expect to find the girl of my dreams.

  A shy ballerina burned by love in the past.

  We got through one date and multiple phone calls before life came barging in.

  Just when I think I’ve got a handle on things, she goes missing. The trouble is, I didn’t even know it until she showed up, soaked to the bone, beaten black and blue, and scared out of her mind.

  Scotlyn Rivers is the epitome of strength, so I’m not shocked when she immediately loves my twin girls.

  What’s shocking is how easily she’s willing to walk away to keep them safe from danger.

  I never expected to love so easily, but a life without Scotlyn isn’t one I’m willing to accept.

  I’ll keep her safe. I’ll prove my love.

  I’ll do anything to keep her.

  No matter who must die.

  Reader beware, some themes may be triggering.

  Chapter 1

  Scotlyn

  Jaxson: We still on for tonight?

  Staring down at the message on my phone, I wonder if it’s too late to cancel. I don’t know why I agreed to use this dating app. I’m not even sure if I’m ready yet. My last relationship was a disaster and wound up with me in the hospital for a week with a broken arm, two fractured ribs, more stitches than I care to remember, and him in jail.

  “Answer him, Scotty.” My roommate, best friend, and fellow principal dancer at the Tumarov Theatre of Ballet stares at me like I’ve got the last slice of pineapple pizza we definitely are not allowed to have.

  It’s been a year since Nick beat me for the last time, and she insists I need to get back out there and meet someone, even if I only get a free meal or drink out of it.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Libby.” The entire idea has me vibrating with anxiety.

  Standing only two inches taller than me, Libby grasps my shoulders in her hands, leans her forehead to mine, and says, “If you don’t get dressed, I’m dragging you there just as you are.” Ripping the phone from my hand, she replies to Jaxson's text, and I feel sick. “Come on. You have that gorgeous black and gold off-the-shoulder that will make him eat his tongue.”

  “I think you mean swallow.” I groan as Libby pulls me behind her to my room. She opens the closet doors and grabs the dress in question, and I fall in love with it all over again.

  “Fine.” I grab the hanger from her and slip out of the robe I’ve been wearing while trying to decide if I’m going. His text came through three hours ago; I hope he doesn’t stand me up now.

  Slipping the garment over my head, it falls to just above my knees and hugs my curves without being too tight. The fabric of one shoulder drapes down while the other remains close to my neck. The bodice has tiny gold flecks that give it a classier look but is comfortable enough to be a go-anywhere dress.

  “These ones.” Libby hands me a pair of black peep-toe heels with a small bow on the back. Slipping my feet into them, she forces me down onto the bed while she fishtails my hair into a braid. I wear it up too often and too high while with the theatre that I want a change when I’m home or going out. “Just a little shadow and mascara.” Her tongue pops out of the corner of her mouth as she applies my makeup, and within minutes, I’m ready to go.

  My self-doubt kicks in again, and our eyes meet when she hands me the shiny gold clutch. “I’m not sure about this.”

  “A free meal, Scotty. Take it. Enjoy it. If he sucks as company, leave and forget it all. But give yourself this. One night to just forget and enjoy. He is kinda a hottie.” I remember. We’ve been messaging for almost a week now, and he’s shared some photos of himself with me, but I haven’t been brave enough to reciprocate.

  Jaxson is big like my brother Saint, but he’s got light hair and these chestnut brown eyes that bare his soul. It’s why I originally answered his request to chat.

  “Okay, here I go,” I murmur, walking out of our cottage to my car—a white BMW 5 series my parents bought for me when I was offered the position at Tumarov almost two years ago. I’ve traveled the country because of the theatre and have loved every show. While the competition is fierce between dancers, we also have a healthy respect for each other and our art.

  After Nick, I lost my confidence. I lost my love of dance and the creative outlet it’s always provided me.

  Six months ago, I was offered the lead in a timeless classic meant for royalty: The Awakening of Flora. I will dance the role of Flora, the Goddess of Spring. This will be the first time it’s been performed in the USA, and while my excitement is indeed skyrocketing, so have my nerves. Which all led to Libby setting me up on this dating app. She wanted me to relax and concentrate on something other than dancing. I’ve been so obsessed with this play over the past few months that I finally gave in.

  Parking in front of the restaurant in downtown Baltimore, I take a few deep breaths before exiting and handing the valet my keys. A door is opened for me, and the bustling atmosphere nearly has me turning around. Standing at the host's station, the woman gives me an apologetic smile as she deals with a demanding customer. I smile back and shake my head. She has nothing to worry about with me.

  It gives me a moment to gaze around. The atmosphere feels fancy here but not quite black-tie. People range from relaxed in dress shirts and jeans or slacks to glitzy dresses. The kitchen is completely blocked off by a wall and swinging doors. The lights over the tables are dim but not so low that you can’t read a menu or see your companion while conversing.

  As my eyes roam over the customers, a man in a booth halts my perusal. Close-cropped light brown hair, a day or two worth of scruff on his face—but neat—and bulky shoulders make him stand out.

  Jaxson is here, staring down at his phone so I can’t see his eyes, but I know the intensity in them will grip me in their hold when I do.

  “Can I help you, miss?” The hostess is finally free.

  “Oh, uhm,” I stutter out before shaking my head. “I’m here with Jaxson.” I don’t know his last name, so I hope he used his first on the reservation.

  Her smile widens. “Of course, right this way.” She leads me to his table, but his head doesn’t lift from his phone until the woman clears her throat. Turning to me, she winks and walks away.

  I can’t read his face as he stands; h
e's much taller than my five-foot-three frame and holy intimidating. I've grown up with sizeable men, but this one is huge. Larger than his picture, I think. I feel like a pixie in his presence.

  We stand in front of the table for a few seconds, which feels like minutes, while his eyes roam across my body, and I would swear I can feel his touch on my flesh. Shivering, my legs begin to shake, and without thought, I drop into the booth across from where he had been sitting. He frowns before taking a seat, and I just hope that when the floor opens up to swallow me, it doesn’t take him too.

  Jax

  I’ve never been on a blind date before. Never had the desire to date, period. Not for many years. But my younger sister, Gracin, thought it’d be a great idea for me to be less of a caveman and more of a human. I disagree. But here I am anyways. Waiting on a girl named Scotlyn, who was too shy to send me pictures but I’d been talking to for a week. When I didn’t get her text until about an hour before our dinner reservation, I wondered if it would even happen tonight.

  My mother has been texting me nonstop because she, too, has been dying to know what this girl with such a different name looks like. A throat being cleared has me placing my phone on the table and staring up at a goddess.

  Godfuckingdamn.

  Scotlyn is ten times more beautiful than I imagined.

  I stand up, intending to introduce myself, but my eyes won’t stray from her. She’s tiny, not even five and a half feet. She has this gorgeous mane of red hair with hints of blonde and brown in it, but I don’t think that’s anything but natural. And her eyes, sweet fucking Jesus, I could get lost in the pools of spring green staring up at me.

  I watch, perplexed, as she drops into the opposite side of the booth before re-taking my seat. Time passes as we stare at each other, but I don’t care; I just want to feast my eyes on her. Learn everything I can before it’s time to go.

  “Hi, I’m Claudia; I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you both with some drinks?” I don’t look away from Scotlyn, but her gaze flits up to the new woman, and I hear a gasp. “Oh, my goodness, you’re her. You’re Scotlyn Rivers.” I hear the admiration in the woman’s voice as Scotlyn’s cheeks turn a shade lighter than her red hair.

  “I am.” Scotlyn nods, and when I see panic creep into her eyes, I become curious.

  “I’m a huge fan. I loved you in The Swan Princess. I’ve watched the show at least once a month over the last year. You’re just phenomenal. The emotion you portray is captivating.” She sighs at the end, and I’m even more confused.

  “Thank you.” Scotlyn gives her a nervous smile, and I step in because I’m clearly missing something here.

  “A bottle of Chardonnay,” I tell Claudia.

  “Of course, and I’m sorry for gushing. I’ll be right back.” She leaves, and Scotlyn’s discomfort is apparent.

  “You’re an actress?” I hazard a guess.

  She shakes her head. “Ballerina. She saw me in my last show.” Shame haunts her tone.

  “A year ago? That’s either an impressive memory or you’re one hell of a dancer.” And I’m betting it’s the latter because if I ever saw Scotlyn in a show, I’d for damn sure remember her.

  She shrugs her shoulder, and I let the topic drop, sensing her unease. Reaching across the table, I lift her chin, needing to see her eyes again. “When you didn’t send me a picture, I wondered what you looked like.” Her gaze drops. “Can’t say I’m disappointed one bit.” She still doesn’t look up at me.

  We’re interrupted by the server, who pours us each a glass of wine before taking her leave. It gives me a moment to study Scotlyn, the way she sits with the lower half of her body towards the restaurant, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Her hair is twisted to the side of the dress that drops off her shoulder, keeping her covered, when I imagine the designer’s point was to make it sexy and alluring. Which it is, but it helps camouflage her. Whether she wants to remain hidden because of her fame or something else is what puzzles me.

  Taking a sip of my wine, I ease back in my seat and try to steer the conversation away from the silence we’re locked in. “You mentioned you aren’t from here?”

  Her shoulders relax slightly, and her delicate hand reaches up to grab her glass. “I moved here from Florida two years ago.”

  “Really?” Leaning closer, I watch the way she swallows as she takes a sip. Images of more erotic things enter my mind. “What part?”

  Our eyes meet, and I'm right, I could get lost in her stare. “The Panhandle. Close to Pensacola.” She takes another drink, and there’s nothing I wish for more than to be able to taste her right now. “What about you? Are you from Baltimore?”

  I nod. “I live about forty-five minutes out of the city on an acreage.”

  Scotlyn perks up a little bit. “Do you have horses?”

  “We do. Half a dozen. Some sheep, chickens, two cows, and a pig.” Her eyes widen with each animal I mention.

  “We?” Her head tilts in curiosity.

  “Yes. It’s my parents’ home, but my aunt and uncle live in another house that used to be a small cabin. And I live in the barn loft.”

  “You live in a barn?” A smile threatens to break free on her face, and I’d kill to see it evolve.

  “I do. It’s not as bad as it sounds. The horses occupy the bottom level, while I reside on the insulated and ventilated second level. Can’t smell the horseshit unless I leave the doors open, which doesn’t happen. Unless my sister comes over and starts some shit.” There’s been a time or two that Gracin has been a little vindictive about it, too.

  “You have a sister?” I get a smile this time. A real one. It’s crooked, and a dimple pops out on both cheeks, making me want to lick them.

  “Gracin, she’s twenty-four, a preschool teacher, and she lives here in the city. A thorn in my side, but I’m pretty fond of her.” Her tinkly laugh is like a shock to my system. It’s highly addicting. “What about you? Any siblings?”

  Scotlyn nods before taking a drink of water. Her face tightens as she speaks, like she’s stressed. “Saint, he’s thirty-two, still down in the Panhandle. He, uhm, he works for my uncle.”

  Scotlyn

  Saint is a replica of our father, only I think he’s deadlier. I've heard the stories of Daddy when he first met Mom and after. The psychopath with a heart. I’m not sure Saint has one, though, except for Lake. She’s his salvation. If only they could get together.

  “And what is it your uncle does?”

  Talking about what my family is into isn’t something I’ve ever had to do before. I know that as soon as he hears the name, he’ll recognize who I am. Who I truly am, and he’ll likely run. I thought I wanted that at first, but I’m starting to like Jaxson. He’s sweet, funny, and without saying the words, I can tell he’s a family man.

  Maybe it would be better if he did know because I don’t consider myself any of those things, and I don’t want to ruin him.

  “Something with imports and exports,” I respond, playing clueless. My family used to run guns, sell drugs, and I believe they even had a brothel once, but I’m not certain. What they do now is so much more important, however. Nobody has any idea how many women they’ve saved from domestic abuse with their underground operations.

  “Sounds like fun.” Jaxson’s tone is droll.

  “I think boring is the word you’re looking for.” I try to laugh. After a minute of silence, the server reappears to take our order. Jaxson orders a steak and all the fixings while I get a chef’s salad and soup.

  With our opening next week, I need to watch my weight. Any deviance in it, and I could throw the entire performance off-balance.

  “What do you like to do for fun, Scotlyn?” The way he says my name, rolling off his tongue with a hint of arousal, nearly makes me shiver.