Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
As soon as the door closes, Aisling steps between me and the door. “Shiloh, was it?”
I fight not to tense, to strike out, to scream in this woman’s face. “Please move out of the way. I’m her security—I’m going with her.”
She waves that away. “Monroe will be back in a moment.” Aisling might look like a fragile blond woman, but she’s got a steel backbone and a heartless streak. She eyes me. “You know, I’ve been doing some digging on the people who accompanied the Paine boys back to Sabine Valley.”
Alarm bells toll through my head, getting louder with each second that passes. She can’t know. She can’t. “And?”
“Every other person has an origin story.” She laughs a little. “Abel really went out and decided to build himself an island of misfit toys, didn’t he? I suppose one must work with what one has.”
It takes everything I have to maintain my relaxed pose. Aisling is across the room from me. While she might have a gun stashed in that smart pantsuit of hers, I highly doubt I’m in physical danger at the moment. She’s too smart to play things that way.
But if she recognizes me…
The only other time I saw this woman was twenty years ago. She’s barely aged in that time, but I look much different than the malnourished child who caught sight of her through a cracked door during an unexpected visit to my parents’ house. There’s no way someone looking at me can connect me to that child. No way at all.
“Yes, everyone has an origin story,” she continues breezily, as if we’re just two friends having a chat. “Except you.”
“I’m nobody.” I say it slowly, fighting not to snap back and sound defensive. I have worked hard to be nobody, to put my past behind me. I always knew being back in Sabine Valley would rattle the skeletons in my closet, but it’s a small price to pay in order to be part of Abel Paine’s plan to bring the city to its knees.
“Nobody,” Aisling repeats. She props her hip against the desk. “I think you’re somebody, Shiloh. I’d look into your past even if my daughter weren’t fond of you. And Monroe is fond of you.” She narrows green eyes so like her daughter’s. “I’ll do anything to protect my daughters.”
Apparently that protection only extends to your daughters, not anyone else’s.
I shut the thought down before it can show on my face. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“See that you do.” She straightens and heads for the door, opening it just as Monroe slips back into the office. “See you tomorrow, darling.”
“Sure.” Monroe flips her hair over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”
Aisling doesn’t know. She can’t know. If she had a clue who I really am, where I really come from, she’d have me removed on the spot, and to hell with the consequences. I’m a blight on the Amazon claim to perfection—or rather, my parents were. Then again, maybe I’m overstating my own importance. I’m just a single woman with a troubled past. Ultimately, I am a cog in the machine. Hardly worth getting worked up over, even is Monroe is fond of me.
“Shiloh.”
I give myself a mental shake. “What can I help you with, Monroe?”
She smiles. Impossible not to notice how perfect her lips are, especially when she’s painted them a bright apple red. Everything about Monroe is perfect. She’s gorgeous, has a body that’s built deceptively strong, and she practically breathes seduction.
I want to hate her.
I really do.
She’s the enemy, and I’ll never forget that, but she’s also… I give myself another mental shake. No use thinking about that, either.
She stands and stretches her arms over her head. Today, she’s wearing high-waisted pants almost loose enough to look like a skirt and a cropped form-fitting top that I mistook for lingerie on the first glance. There is a blazer that matches the pants, but it’s currently draped over the back of her chair.
I wish she’d put it on. That slice of toned stomach showing between her pants and her top is almost as distracting as the curves of her breasts offered up by the structure of the top. It’s not transparent, but that doesn’t stop me from having to fight the urge to search the lace for her nipples.
Yeah, Monroe is dangerous in ways I never could have predicted.
She finishes her stretch and leans a hip against her desk. “You don’t like me.”
“I don’t have an opinion about you one way or another.” Not true. Not true at all. But admitting that I can’t stop picturing her and Broderick having sex, tormenting myself with the images over and over again, is the equivalent of diving into chummed water and hoping the circling shark doesn’t eat me. My odds aren’t good in either scenario.
She smiles like I said something clever. “Jealousy is so exhausting, Shiloh. Why don’t you set it aside for a while?”