Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Yeah, that was obvious.” She glances around the room. “I thought I heard Trevor in here.”
“He went downstairs to look for something before we go.”
“So he is staying with you?” Henri tsks, which I didn’t think people could actually do, but she proves me wrong. “I hate that.”
“You hate that he’s staying with me?” My hackles rise little by little. “Why exactly?”
“I hate to argue with him.” She gives me a long-suffering look over the round rims of her glasses. “In all our years of friendship, we’ve never disagreed like this. That’s what I hate.”
“What are you disagreeing about?” I scoot to the edge of the bed and smooth the skirt over my legs, the closest I can come to modesty.
“He didn’t tell you?” Caution slows Henri’s words and puckers her brows.
“Why don’t you?” I have a sneaking suspicion this is about me.
“If you must know…”
“Well, now I must.”
She licks her lips and straightens her glasses even though they sit perfectly centered on her straight little nose.
“In South Africa, concerns were raised.” She clears her throat, looking at me directly. “About Trevor’s relationship with you.”
“With me?” I press my hands flat to my chest. “What kind of concerns? Who?”
“Several of the Collective members who want Trevor to be the next leader are concerned about the scandals he’s adjacent to being involved with you.”
“Adjacent?”
“It means—”
“I know what ‘adjacent’ means,” I snap. “Are you saying that they would hold everything going on with me against Trevor? That it might affect whether or not he gets the position?”
Henrietta doesn’t look away from the insistence of my words, my eyes.
“Yes, I’m saying as much. Others are saying as much, but he won’t listen.” Her eyes travel from my leather knee boots over my skirt and up my fitted sweater. “He won’t see reason because all he can see is you.”
“Trevor’s a grown man.” I narrow my eyes at her. “A smart man, not to be led around by the nose. Give him some credit.”
“Oh, it’s not Trevor I don’t give credit.” She tilts her head, a nonsmile on her face. “He’s worked too hard to see it all go down the drain because he’s infatuated with some woman who can’t keep her name out of the tabloids.”
“Oh, you mean my salacious rape allegations?” Gloves off. Done with trying to gain this woman’s sympathy. “How very naughty of me, going off and getting myself raped.”
“It’s not the rape, Sofie. I’m sorry that happened to you. It’s all the things that keep coming out about you that have nothing to do with the rape charges.”
“It’s all about the rape charges, Henri. You know that.”
“But it’s your life. Your choices. Things you brought on yourself, and I don’t want to see them brought on Trevor.” She turns to walk out the door, but looks at me over her shoulder before she goes. “I think you actually do care about him. If you do, maybe think about how this will all affect his life when you’re done with him.”
Even minutes after she’s gone, her slimy words stick to my skin. If I really love him, can I put his needs before mine, even when it might hurt us both? When he walks back into his bedroom, holding the file he went looking for, and his eyes find mine, tender with promises, I’m not sure I can.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Sofie
You’re quiet.” Trevor slides his thumb over my palm, concerned eyes on my face. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” I muster a fake smile. I hate being phony with him, but it’s a hard habit to break. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” He rubs my knee, pulls my head to his shoulder, and kisses my hair.
“About the Goddess press conference Friday.” The lie comes easily to my lips, only affirming that I am too false for such an honest man.
“That dress François fitted you for today is gorgeous. You’ll knock ’em dead.”
“It is,” I agree, the words barely registering. The only words I hear are the ones Henri dumped all over me at Trevor’s house.
The privacy partition rolls down, surprising me. What’s his name is so unobtrusive, I’m usually barely aware of his presence, but his eyes seek mine in the rearview mirror.
“Ms. Baston,” he says. “Clive from your building just called. There’s some work going on in the underground lot. Will you be fine getting out at the curb, and maybe Mr. Bishop can walk you in while I park?”
“Of course, that’s fine,” Trevor answers before I can. He loves the fact that I have security, but feels like I need it only when he’s not around. I think it offends his alpha sensibilities to think someone else is protecting me when he’s here. His protectiveness has only intensified since he found out about Kyle’s visit.
Trevor takes my hand, helping me step onto the SUV’s running board. He keeps my hand as we walk toward my building. Before we can make it to the entrance, one reporter after another approaches, until we’re surrounded by them, a shoal of piranhas circling us. All asking me the same question with one voice in a hundred different ways. I can’t make anything out until my brain seizes on one word from the furor of their interrogation.