Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Cate answers, challenging me with entrancing blue eyes. Eyes I would kill to have staring at me every morning from across my pillow. Eyes I’ve been dreaming about incessantly for weeks. “I haven’t been to a doctor since I was a child. It was just a checkup.”
The fact that I’m being an asshole hits me hard. With this interrogation, I’m adding insult to injury for abandoning her. This isn’t me. I’m known for being levelheaded, calm under fire. Unflappable. Yet this pint-sized teenager has completely turned my world upside down. I don’t know who I am anymore. “I apologize, Cate,” I say quietly. “You are in good health?”
Her features soften. “Yes, thank you.”
I incline my head and a member of the staff steps between us, filling our glasses with wine. It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that Cate is underage, but I’ve been enough of a bastard tonight, so I say nothing.
“I thought it would be fun to have sushi tonight! Chef made it fresh this afternoon.” Rebecca trills. “I’m assuming you’ve never had sushi, Cate?”
“No. Never.” Cate smiles gamely, but looking closely, I can see the tremor in her fingers, the wobble of her chin. “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”
My father salutes with his wine glass. “My dear, Cate. The change in you is commendable! You could dine with the president without a hitch.” He winks at me. “And you just might be dining with the future one.”
Cate directs her smile in my direction, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Maybe I am.”
The organ in my chest pounds, my hands itching to reach for my stepsister. To pull her into my lap and fill her beautiful mouth with my tongue. I’m distracted by that thought, however, when Cate frowns down at something, anxiously wetting her lips.
Chopsticks.
Her chest starts to heave.
“I, um…” Her accent bleeds in slightly. “I don’t know how to use these.”
“I’ll show you, sweetheart.” My hand moves without a command from my brain, gripping the edge of Cate’s chair and dragging her toward me. All the way, until our thighs meet beneath the table. She gasps, her gaze landing on my mouth, and I know damn well I’m looking at hers, too. I need to fuck you. My eyes deliver that message loud and clear and it takes every drop of my willpower to neutralize my expression. “Pick up the sticks.”
I do the same with my own.
“See how I’m holding them? You’re creating a fulcrum with your finger, moving and stabilizing the sticks with the other.”
She nods eagerly, getting the hold perfectly.
Looking up at me for approval.
God, I shouldn’t crave that so much.
Shouldn’t be aching out of my mind for it.
But I can’t help it. I love being the one she trusts. Yet another reason I can’t stand someone else making decisions for her without my knowledge. I’m supposed to be her protector. “That’s perfect, Cate.” While I’ve been staring at my stepsister, a plate of bite-sized sushi rolls has been placed in front of her. “Try picking one up.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
The first attempt, she fumbles, her cheeks flaming.
On the second try, she gets it, popping the roll into her mouth and chewing around an adorably dazed smile. Polite applause breaks out across the table, but it’s nothing compared to the thunder and lightning in my head. Because I’ve just realized two things at once.
One, I was a moron to believe I could stay away. I can’t.
Two, it’s not just infatuation. I’m in love with her.
It happened the moment I heard her laughter amid the trees.
“I have a plan to run by you, Tristan,” Rebecca says, forcing me to rip my attention away from Cate’s chewing mouth, the sexy slopes of her tits.
“What is it?” I ask, taking a drink of wine, wishing I’d stuck to whiskey.
Rebecca claps her hands together. “Since our Cate has made such great strides, we thought we’d have something of a soft opening. Maybe invite a few dozen people over to your home on Friday night—including some discreet members of the press—and see how she does?”
No.
It’s selfish to want to keep Cate under wraps, especially after all her hard work, but dammit, I can’t seem to stave off the greed when it comes to her. Did I ever truly believe I’d want to show her off? Expose her to the vultures of the political scene?
They could hurt her, malign her.
I can’t stand the thought of it.
Furthermore, it would take very little to pick up on my feelings for my stepsister.
It’s getting harder by the moment not to be obvious about my need. My obsession.
“Of course…” my father says, picking up where Rebecca left off. “We wouldn’t allow any pictures to be taken in our home. I’ve arranged for a professional photo shoot for Cate tomorrow. With Andre Bisset. That way, we can control the image they print.”