Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Vance merely pointed out how beneficial it’d be to the campaign if you posted your support of it.”
My expression told him I wasn’t convinced. “Uh-uh. What else did you do to make sure your plan worked?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “I sometimes struggle to express myself when dealing with emotion. I’d like you to know the things I said tonight were my words, but . . . I had some help drafting them.”
I didn’t understand why he was cautious about telling me this. Was he worried I’d be upset someone else knew he was in love with me before revealing it to me? I teased him. “You had a speech writer?”
He was serious. “She didn’t know it was going to be a speech. I told her it was a letter.”
The pieces clicked into place. “You had Marist help you write a love letter . . . to me?”
“I hope that doesn’t upset you. She’s the most competent person in the family when it comes to feelings.”
For some strange reason, I found it both amusing and touching. He’d once given her a speech to woo her and failed, and now she’d helped him write another. This time, he’d succeeded.
“No,” I whispered. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s actually kind of nice.”
He exhaled with relief. “I also paid Ian to make sure you didn’t arrive too early. I knew if I could get you to agree to my wager, you’d be competitive about it.”
I grinned. “I was going to be. Did you pay him extra to be so douche-y?”
Amusement flared in his pale eyes. “Was he?” But he sobered. “I had unease about using him. I remember how he was around you at Damon’s birthday party.”
I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the idea was. “You weren’t honestly worried I’d be into him.”
We weren’t in the garage anymore, and downtown Boston flew by, streaking lights across his unsure expression. “He’s a much younger man than I am, Sophia.”
I set my pointed look on him. “I’ve made it pretty fucking clear I’m not into younger men.”
Enjoyment coated his expression, followed by a playful look, right before he leaned over and swept his lips across mine. “Language.”
Now he delivered the kiss he’d wanted to earlier, holding nothing back. He conquered with his mouth and his tongue, both taking and giving pleasure. My heart fluttered in my chest at the way he kissed me with passion, but also did his best to be delicate. He’d hurt me and was intent on not doing it again.
When the kiss ended, it felt like I had to come up for air, and my hands were fisted on the lapels of his suit, holding on. He wasn’t faring much better. His hair was wild from my fingers and he was short of breath, and as we recovered, we grinned at our frantic state.
“Can I ask a favor?” I released my grip and dragged my palms down his chest.
Desire thickened between us at my touch. “Of course.”
“I’m starving.” I’d been too nervous most of the day, and dinner at the party had been canceled. “Could you text your chef and have him make us something?”
“No. We’ll have dinner on the plane.”
I blinked, and excitement stirred at his meaning. I hadn’t been on the Hales’ private jet before, and a getaway—anywhere with him—sounded amazing. My phone continued to buzz in my purse like thunder in an electronic storm. We’d need to escape. “Are we going somewhere?”
“My home in Aspen.”
I bit down on my lip to keep from squealing, but I tried to play it cool. “I don’t have anything with me. What am I supposed to wear?”
He’d anticipated this question, and his smile was sinister. “Do you still have on the jewelry I gave you?”
I swallowed hard as goosebumps burst down my legs. “I couldn’t get it unscrewed by myself.”
He was beyond pleased with this answer. “Good. You will wear that and nothing else.”
EPILOGUE
MACALISTER
I DIDN’T CONSIDER MYSELF A GAMBLER because the outcome was often left to chance and I preferred strategy, but I didn’t shy away from taking risks. None had been bigger than the night seven weeks ago when I’d declared my love for Sophia Alby to the world, unsure if she felt the same, and not knowing what it would do to my reputation.
But I had learned, as Damon Lynch was still trying to, that facing a scandal head-on could decrease its fallout. By making myself vulnerable and putting my emotions out there for everyone to see, it made me human to the people of Cape Hill.
It also helped that they were distracted by DuBois’s book and Damon’s secret daughter and were discovering that no one in our perfect little town was, in fact, perfect. Everyone had a secret to hide or something that filled them with shame. Exposing the dark underside forced people to recognize their social mortality. They couldn’t live as gods above consequence anymore.