Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Simon turns his head slowly, his gaze following the path of mine.
“You were having trouble with the key in the drawer,” he murmurs, his tone almost persuasive. “I was just helping. With a little brute force.”
“I don’t mean here, behind the reception desk. I mean in this building.”
“Oh. I thought I’d booked a yoga session with Fee Abernathy?”
My trill of laughter sounds sort of manic, my heart tripping like the wings of a hummingbird still. Not physical shock this time. Anxiety. “You know that’s not happening,” I answer eventually.
“Pity.” He leans his forearm against the high reception counter, his eyes moving over me unsubtly. “It was the workout wear that did it for me, you know.”
“What?”
“Back then. One look at your ass in those tight pants and I just knew I had to get into them.”
“Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted.” And made a fool out of me.
“No. I got more than I wanted.” His hand lifts, briefly touching his chin. “What is the kid’s name again?”
Does he deserve that much from me? To hear his child’s own name might be the very most I owe him.
“Her name is Eloise,” I say softly. “Eloise Rose.”
“Much better than Ermintrude.” He smiles softly back at me and, for a moment, I’m reminded how charming he was. How attentive. And then I remember our last night and how it felt to learn of his lies.
“Well, I can see you’re not interested in tripping down memory lane with me,” he says, his expression much harsher now.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” My words sound much braver than I feel but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him know his presence here frightens me. I get that he probably won’t physically hurt me but there other ways to feel pain.
“You were quite taken with me, as I recall.”
“Because you made it that way.”
“I did, didn’t I?” he answer proudly. “You were quite a challenge.” This man. This mistake. How many women has he duped for kicks? “I enjoyed our time together.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
“Oh? I remember otherwise. But now you’re fucking my brother, so that must be awkward for you. So sordid, wouldn’t you say?” I don’t gratify him with an answer or a reaction. What Carson and I have won’t be sullied by him. “I was in Monaco because of him, you know? My grandfather asked me to try and talk some sense into him. Such wild accusations.”
Again, I say nothing. I don’t so much as lift an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t staying in the hotel. I know I told you I was,” he adds as though the information is of little consequence and not a lie as part of a larger deception. A larger cheat. The first time I saw you the sun was shining, and your hair gleamed like a sheet of silk, rippling in the scant sea breeze.”
“Spare me the pretty picture and tell me what you want.”
“I saw you in the street and followed you into a coffee shop.” The hairs on my arms stand like pins. “You sat with a friend and talked of your love lives. I think your friend was dating a rich man and I remember overhearing you say you weren’t interested in dating a man with money.”
“That should’ve ruled you out.”
“Except I followed your tight little ass back to the hotel. I saw where you worked, then contrived to be the kind of man you would be interested in.”
“Why?” I find myself asking. “Monaco is full of women who want nothing more than to hang from the arm of a rich man. I’m nothing special.”
“I was bored. I needed a challenge.” He shrugs, an almost gallic expression of indifference, then begins to examine his fingernails.
“You bastard.” My retort is more incredulous than furious. If I had doubts about his mental state before, those doubts have disappeared. He really isn’t right in the head. “So you lied, you made up a whole person, just to have sex with me.”
“No, not only. More like to see how long it took. Longer than I thought,” he sort of mutters. “But the results are more farther reaching than I thought.”
“No. No they’re not. Lulu isn’t up for discussion.”
“But she’s half mine.” The way his lips quirk almost teasingly is like an echo of this brother’s. And disconcerting.
“Your contribution to her life was made in one night. Actually, in under a few minutes, as I recall.” I could almost bite my tongue. Baiting the bear isn’t the quickest way to get him out of here. “What I’m trying to say is we don’t need anything from you.” Nothing in my life has ever been truer than this. To involve him would only bring Lulu heartache. How could I ever explain to her that his love would only be a sheen on the surface? A reflection of something he might find in her face. His love would be a pretence.