Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
“Do you want to take that risk?”
“If I ruin you, your father ruins Carrie. If you really do care about her, you’re smart enough to know that, and you won’t do it. I’ve got you by the balls, and apparently, so does she.” He pushes off the table and walks away.
I sit there for a good twenty minutes, processing what to do next. I want his head. I want to hurt him. I stand up and go back to my room and change clothes. I go for a run. Once I’ve blown off steam, I go back to my room and pace. I dial Royce. “What can I do for you?”
“If I wanted to ruin him, do you have the ammunition?”
“Don’t do it,” he says. “She won’t get over that.”
“Thank you.”
“What?”
“I called you because I knew you’d say that. I needed to hear it.”
“Give me time to hand her a file with the research on her father. It’ll be hard for her to read, but it’ll do that for you.”
“You can’t get to the information I need you to get to.”
“You’d be surprised what we can get to,” he says. “And I’ll get to enough. Trust me. Come home before you do something you’ll regret.”
“I’m going to stay.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be on a plane when I come up with a proposal he’ll actually listen to.”
I hang up.
I drag my hands through my hair and spend most of the afternoon into the evening coming up with nothing. Finally, I take a shower, pack and charter my plane for tonight. I want to be back in New York City. I need to talk to Carrie. I’m sitting in my rental car when I decide I’m operating without facts. If I know the core problem, then maybe I can talk to West again. I dial my father. “Reid,” he answers coldly.
“Why does he hate you?”
He doesn’t ask who I’m talking about. “At this point, I see no reason not to tell you. I fucked his wife.”
“As in Carrie’s mother?”
“Yes. Carrie’s mother.”
“Holy fuck. While you were married to mom?”
“Yes. That’s what started the war. I fucked his wife and he told your mom.”
“You’re such a bastard.”
“And you, son, are a chip off the old block.”
I hang up thinking of Elijah and decide I need to deal with him. Twenty years of two families destroying each other is a lesson I can’t ignore. I also decide that talking to West won’t matter. I need to hope Royce finds what I need him to find and tells Carrie. Right now, I’m worried about Carrie’s father getting to her before I do. I need to get home now, tonight.
I drive to the airport.
Chapter fifty-seven
Carrie
Reid hasn’t called all day and even though he warned me he might not, we’re so broken right now that it feels bad. I’d just suck it up and call him, but two in the morning isn’t the time to make that decision. He’s probably asleep like the rest of the world, while I haven’t even tried. The fact that I’m working on the Grayson numbers, sitting at my island in the kitchen, pumping coffee down me like it’s my lifeline at this hour is a testament to how much our current state of broken is affecting me. I stand up. It’s time to try to sleep. I’m not even in my nightgown. I’m still in the sweats and T-shirt that I put on after a workout and shower, which isn’t the way to convince myself to sleep.
I shut my computer and it’s as if it triggers my cellphone to ring. I grab it and the minute I see Reid’s number I hit answer. “Reid?”
“Yeah, baby. I’m downstairs. Come get me. They won’t let me up.”
The sound of his voice, rich and masculine, washes over me and awakens and warms me inside out. “Wait. Did you say you’re here? As in my building?”
“Yes. I flew home to see you.”
He didn’t call because he was coming back to me.
“Carrie?”
“I’ll come get you. That guard is new. I won’t convince him to let you come up.” I disconnect and head for the door, and despite everything that has happened, I just want to see him. I just want to feel him. I can’t get to the elevator soon enough and nerves flutter in my stomach as it arrives in the lobby. The minute the doors open and I step into the lobby, Reid is in front of me, looking like sin and satisfaction in dark jeans and a navy T-shirt, his fingers tangling in my hair. “I missed the hell out of you, woman,” he says, his voice gruff, affected, his mouth closing down on my mouth, his tongue licking deliciously at mine.
I sink into him, my arms wrapping his body and I remember his words about feeling him, about feeling us, and how real it is. And it is. In this moment, I feel how much he wants me, I feel that I mean something to him. “Let’s go upstairs,” he murmurs, brushing fingers over my cheek, his lips parting mine with a reluctant lift.