Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I glared at him. “That isn’t an apology.”
“I don’t apologize,” he growled.
Which was true. I’d never heard him apologize. Not to me. Not to anyone.
“We have a flight to catch,” I told him, pushing past him in the shower. “You need to sober up.”
I stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and walked away from him. My chest ached with every step. A part of me wanted to go back there and claim that vicious man as my own. The rest of me knew that walking away was the only option, and that this vacation was going to be a nightmare.
* * *
Two hours later, I was in a sundress with a full face of makeup, cherry-red lipstick and all. The nude Christian Louboutins on my feet were the final pieces of my armor. I needed that armor to survive the next week.
Camden appeared in a three-piece suit, decidedly more sober than he had been two hours ago. Though clearly hungover from however much fucking alcohol he had consumed last night. He didn’t say a word to me as our luggage was taken down to the limo, and then we traveled out to his private jet.
Silence was my ally in this. It was easier to text Lark, English, and Whitley about how excited I was about coming to see them than it was to pretend to be happy to be going with my husband. We made it to the airport in record time and out to the plane even faster. It was a miracle.
Camden looked like he wanted to say something to me when we were boarding, but I shot him a glare and then hustled in front of him, so I wouldn’t have to hear it. Wasn’t it bad enough that he had been out all night with Fiona? Then he’d had to come home and try to fuck me, too? I couldn’t deal with him right now. I wanted to be in the sun with a drink in hand, lying by the pool and working on my tan. That was it.
I sank into the first available seat, texting away with Lark as the pilot prepped for takeoff. To my dismay, Camden took the seat next to me.
“Do you mind?” I asked pointedly.
“Katherine, can we talk?”
“No,” I spat.
He put his hand to his head and winced once. “God, it’s bright in here.”
“That’s what you get,” I snapped.
He just groaned. “Maybe I can ask them to dim the cabin lights.”
“Oh, just sit there and suffer.”
“I know that you’re pissed at me for leaving last night, but do you mind bringing it down an octave?”
I shot him another glare. “Mad at you for leaving? No, why ever would I be mad that you disappeared in the middle of an argument to go see your mistress instead of having a normal conversation with me? So, you might find that I really don’t want to talk today. Nor do I care about your hangover.”
He straightened at that. Some part of his bad mood dissolving. “Wait, you think I was with Fiona?”
“Why else would you stay out all night?” I mused rhetorically and went back to my text messages.
“I wasn’t with Fiona,” he said.
“And why should I believe you?”
“Because,” he said, pitching his voice low, “I’m not a liar.”
My eyes swept up to his. He wasn’t a liar, but his response didn’t make any sense. Why would he have been out all night? Where the hell had he gone?
“Fine,” I muttered. “You weren’t with Fiona. Hooray for one day of mildly good behavior. Do you want a gold star?”
“Katherine,” he said softly, “I don’t want to fight.”
I whirled on him. “Then maybe you should have thought about that last night. Go back to nursing your hangover. I don’t want to talk to you the rest of the way to Puerto Rico. I’m going to pretend that you’re not here.”
Camden seemed to turn into a statue for a moment, as if processing my seething in anger. Then he nodded once and took a different seat.
* * *
He must have fallen asleep because he didn’t stir again until we were up in the air.
A catnap seemed to have rejuvenated him. He grabbed a bottle of water and then opened his laptop. He typed away at it for a few minutes distractingly before seeming to come to a decision and closing it.
I nearly groaned when he headed back toward me. He crossed his arms and waited for me to look up. I took my sweet time.
“What?” I finally asked.
“The company is brokering a deal to get a tower into Dublin,” he told me flatly. “My father took me aside last night to tell me that I wasn’t allowed to take a vacation. I have to be on call and available at all times while we’re away. That if it falls through, it’s all my fault.”