Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“If he’s guilty of such duplicity…of murder…” My eyes sting with the threat of tears. “I need to know the truth, and I’ll do anything to get it, no matter how crazy or risky it might seem to you.”
“Don’t do this,” he pleads.
“I’m not in your house anymore. You can’t stop me.”
His hands slide off my shoulders. “You’re more like an Astor than you realize.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re as stubborn as a goddamn mule.”
“I thought obstinance was a trait out of the House of Taurus.” Sarcasm taints my retort.
“Obstinance is human nature. Some harbor it more than others.” He widens the space between us by a foot, his jaw tense from my decision to go against his wishes. “Do what you need to do, but be careful. Whoever’s working with your uncle has the traits of a chameleon. Never forget that.” He stalks down the hall, and I wait until he turns the corner before following.
His warning echoes in my ears, a ricocheting omen I can’t quite shake. Nerves hold my legs hostage as I make my way to the library, my limbs jittery at the idea of the coming conversation with Liam…or confrontation, considering I don’t know which it’ll be yet. Silently, I edge the door open, and my breath hitches.
The dawning of dusk casts an ethereal shadow over the chancellor, outlining him in silhouette. His back is to me, and I follow the lines of his suit, from the broadness of his shoulders to the taper of his waist. The cut of that finely woven wool is perfect, and I’m convinced there isn’t a man alive that can fill out a suit better than Liam Castle.
At the sound of the door shutting, he turns around. Neither of us say a word, and yet I can’t tear my gaze from his. The space between my thighs inflames with desire, and I give myself a stern reminder that I can’t trust my own reactions tonight—not with Vance’s voodoo boiling in my veins.
“The sight of you always takes my breath away,” he says, three hesitant steps of his leather shoes bringing him closer.
My feet want to move, to help him bridge this gaping void between us, but I’m frozen to the spot. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the dimness of the room, I spy the frown lines around his mouth. He tilts his head, those beautiful umber eyes studying every inch of me, as if he’s trying to decipher a complex puzzle.
“Things are different now, aren’t they, my sweet girl?”
“Why do you say that?” Suspicion taints my tone. Does he know the truth about my parents’ plane crash? Does he suspect my trust in him has wavered?
“Because you don’t look at me the same.”
I swallow hard. “Why would things be different?”
A heavy beat passes.
“I think you know why.” He takes another step toward me, and I shake my head, fear and longing colliding in my chest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do, Novalee.”
“Well I’m telling you I don’t, so why don’t you spell it out for me?”
Sadness pulls at the corners of his mouth. “You look at me differently because you’re in love with someone else.”
It’s not the answer I expected, but it’s no less shocking than all the things he could have said—the things my heart hopes he’ll never say.
“If that were true, then why am I here with you and not him?”
“I don’t know why you chose me.” Pushing his hands into his pockets, he spans the final space between us. “But I intend to find out.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
With a slight laugh, he shakes his head, hesitating as he reaches out and tucks a lock of flaxen hair behind my ear. “I have no idea.”
The brush of his fingers on my cheek sends my lids drifting shut. I let out a sigh as the conflicted organ in my chest skips a beat. My skin flushes to the temperature of midday on the beach at home. “Then I guess we’re both searching for something.”
“What are you searching for?” he asks.
A lump of apprehension clogs my throat, but I gulp it down. It’s now or never, and regardless of what my brother warned, I can’t ignore the invisible wall that stands between the chancellor and me. “Someone told me I shouldn’t trust you.”
I brace myself for the register of shock in his dark pupils, dilating with disbelief, but it doesn’t come. Instead of retreating in defense, he steps closer, his warm palm cradling my cheek. How could someone who touches me in such a gentle, loving manner want me dead?
“Whoever told you that is right, Novalee. You shouldn’t trust anyone in this tower.”
A gasp escapes as he drags his thumb across my lower lip. I dart my tongue out, and his saltiness hits my tastebuds, igniting a craving for the forbidden.