The Redemption Read online Nikki Sloane (Filthy Rich Americans #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Filthy Rich Americans Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
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I planted my lips on hers. To the victor went the spoils, and I took my fill while she continued recovering, one deep breath at a time, although I had the suspicion my kiss delayed it. I held her captive beneath my lips.

When our kiss finally ended, fear and wonder mixed together in her eyes. She was stunned I’d done as I said I would, and perhaps she was grateful, but her trepidation was growing over what had to happen next.

It was hard not to sound smug. “The name.”

Panic flooded through her expression, and then it shuttered. She slid out from under me, retreating. “There are two.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking for double-or-nothing?”

Because a second orgasm would be even easier to pull from her, but it’d take its toll on me. I was already thinking of ways to justify carrying her upstairs. Excuses that would permit me to discover how her piercing felt against my tongue.

“No,” she answered. “I’m only giving you one name.”

She tried to fold herself away from me, and I didn’t care for it. I scooped her up into my arms and pulled her into my lap, using the tip of my nose to draw a line up the side of her neck. Either the product she used in her hair or her perfume was the source of her apple scent.

“All right,” I said in a persuasive hush, right beside her ear. “Tell me.”

The orgasm had left her body, but the tremble remained. It wasn’t a shiver. The fire was warm, and I was holding her, which left me to believe this was stress. Was she worried once I had the name, I’d go after this person with surgical precision until I’d uncovered every last secret?

She wasn’t wrong.

Her eyes closed, unable to look at me. “The name,” she said, “is Sophia Alby.”

TWELVE

MACALISTER

MY EYES WERE BURNING WITH EXHAUSTION, and I kept my gaze directed out the conference room window to the sunlight while the men prattled on about the mortgage forecasts the lending team had presented. I had never fallen asleep during a meeting because doing so would be disastrous. My subordinates had lost enough respect for me; they didn’t need to lose any more.

I spent far too much time thinking about Sophia and didn’t realize the meeting had concluded until the room was nearly empty and a hand was on my shoulder.

“Dad?”

I looked up into the face that was so similar to his mother’s, sometimes I hated it. A constant reminder of what I’d had and was stolen from me. Royce’s eyes were mine, though, and concern lurked in them now.

“I’m fine,” I said in my usual gruff tone and stood from my seat.

My son didn’t believe me. His arms crossed over his chest, and he gave me a hard look. It wasn’t as severe as the one I had mastered, but it did its job well enough.

“It’s nothing,” I added as I grabbed my iPad off the table and brushed past him, heading for the exit. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

It wasn’t technically true. Once I’d climbed into bed and the infernal cat stopped rubbing its face against my hand to encourage me to pet him, I’d quickly fallen asleep and slept soundly. But while I’d gotten quality, there hadn’t been nearly enough quantity.

As soon as Sophia had dropped her name, she’d leapt from my arms and pulled on her clothes, refusing to elaborate. It wasn’t part of the deal, she’d protested. I’d been bested by her again, more or less. She’d given me the one name I’d spent the evening trying to convince myself I wasn’t interested in.

Not fifteen minutes after she’d left, I’d pleasured myself in the shower, fantasizing all the ways I’d have her if I allowed it.

Royce followed me out into the hall, past the pictures of the different branches our family company had planted across the globe. “Take the afternoon,” he said. “Go get some rest.”

He didn’t say it with force, but I couldn’t tolerate it regardless. I halted and turned to face him. There weren’t tired lines etched at the corner of his eyes, and when he rubbed his fingers at his temple, I noted the flash of his cufflinks. Ares, the god of war—a gift from Marist.

It was difficult to tolerate how he had everything he wanted. His youth, his wife’s love, his high position within the company I’d done more for than any other Hale. In my desire to win at all costs, I’d lost practically everything.

Even people to desperately pin my failure on.

I kept my voice low so as not to disturb our employees in the offices nearby. “You do not tell me what to do.”

Royce’s shoulders lifted as he assumed a confrontational posture but matched my hushed voice. “You were an embarrassment in there.” He motioned back toward the conference room. “Go home, Dad. We didn’t fall apart while you were gone for two years. I think we can handle one fucking afternoon.”


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