Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Your daddy, too?”
He stares at me for a moment before dropping his eyes to the floor. “Him, too, yeah. I should have told you about my family.”
“Oh, but you did.” I hop up on the conference room table and swing my legs back and forth. “You said your family was wealthy, but you didn’t have much money of your own.”
“True.”
“You said your brother was a senator.”
“He is.”
“You said you and your father were estranged.”
“Yes, we—”
“But somehow neglected to mention he’s the man I can’t stand. That you’ll inherit the company that trampled over the most sacred land my people still held.”
“I won’t. Inherit, I mean. I dedicated the last eight years of my life to researching climate change, Nix. Do you really think I want anything to do with my family’s oil company?”
“I don’t actually know what to think since you’ve misrepresented yourself to me this whole time.” I shake my head and force my lips into a waxy smile. “While all of us wondered what would happen after the protest, how long we’d be in jail, if the charges would stick, you knew you were guaranteed bail. Guaranteed freedom. Protection. Wrapped all cozy in your wealth. How you must have laughed at us.”
“I didn’t laugh.”
“But it was a game for you, one you played with absolutely no risk while we risked everything.”
“It wasn’t a game. I saw you, I heard you, and it’s like I said before.” He takes a few steps closer until he’s mere inches from the table. “I knew I’d never forget you. When I saw those dogs headed straight for you…” He rubs the back of his neck and releases a harsh sigh. “I didn’t think twice. I left my father in the car and took off running. I just knew I had to…never mind. You won’t believe me. Just know it wasn’t a joke.”
“Every one of us was risking our reputation, our freedom, possibly our lives if things had escalated, and you acted like you had something to lose when Warren Cade would never let anything happen to his heir.”
“I told you we’re estranged.”
“Were you then? That day?”
“No. I tried to convince him not to go forward with the pipeline. When he refused to change his mind, I left.”
“You let me think you had come all the way from California specifically to protest with us. Was that true?”
His silence is thick with guilt and frustration.
“No,” he admits after a moment. “I’d flown in with my father. I didn’t know why we were there. Hearing what he had done and thinking I would never see any of you again, I didn’t see the point of saying who I was.”
“And in Amsterdam?” The words sour in my mouth. “The first night, could you have seen the point? Or maybe the second night before you fucked me? You could have mentioned who you were, but maybe you thought you wouldn’t tap this ass if I knew.”
“Nix—”
“And you were right. You wouldn’t have.”
“I won’t let you cheapen what we had.”
“I’m cheapening it? You told me because I had been so honest with you, you wanted to be completely open and honest with me.”
“I did.”
“And then you lied to me for the next week.”
“I omitted it because it doesn’t matter, dammit.”
“If you really believed that, you would have told me, and you know it.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“No, I saw it on television with the rest of the world, and you came here for what?” I grip the edge of the conference room table. “To ensure if you ever make it back from the Amazon or whatever remote place you visit next, you’ll still have some ass in the States?”
He moves so quickly, I jerk back when he’s standing right in front of me, caging me with his arms on either side where I sit on the table. This close, I smell him. I feel him. His body, big and familiar and still a mystery, radiates heat. It makes me remember us curled around each other, naked in sex-scented sheets; to recall a day lying among half-opened tulips, sharing our dreams and ambitions.
“I’m losing patience, Nix,” he says, so close his words rest on my lips.
“Oh, am I not forgiving you fast enough? How very privileged of you to expect it.”
“I don’t want it to be like this.” He leans forward until only a sultry centimeter separates us. “I missed you. I came for—”
“What?” My will wavers and then snaps back into place. “What do you want?”
The look he pours over me is hot oil, burning me even through serviceable layers of cotton. His heated perusal caresses my face, sluices over my breasts and hips, and then pools at my feet.
“Oh, that you won’t ever get again,” I say, my voice a soft, certain promise. “I don’t fuck liars. I’m particular that way.”