Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Thank you for forty-five wonderful years, Midge,” Frank continued. “They’ve gone by way too quickly, haven’t they?” He glanced at Marjorie and kissed her briefly on the lips. And in turn, Marjorie wiped her own tears away.
“Kiss!” someone in the crowd yelled.
The spotlight fell on me and Scott. Caught in the collective stares of all three hundred people, we looked at each other knowing there was no escape.
“Steer clear of the family jewels,” he murmured close to my ear, a sneaky smile parting his freshly shaved face, dimples showing. “Can’t have a bunch of little Blackstones if you maim me.”
“There won’t be any little Blackstones––” I hissed behind a cemented smile. People were watching and I was forced to give them the show they expected. He tipped his head slowly giving me time to stop him if I wanted to, but I didn’t. It was exhausting, fighting this beast of an attraction between us. And I was done trying. This time the kiss was everything a kiss should be. Sensual, possessive, drawing me deeper and deeper until the edges started to blur, and we got lost in the moment. This thing between us was irrational and without a doubt doomed to end badly, and yet there was no reasoning with chemistry. It either created an explosion, or it fizzled. The problem with explosions is that they tend to leave destruction in their wake.
Whistles and shouts broke the spell, driving us apart. I tried to gently extricate my hand from Scott’s, but he had no intention of letting go and I couldn’t very well make a fuss with a majority of the board of directors watching us.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered under his breath. Saluting the crowd in a patronizing gesture, he pulled me in the direction of the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“To settle a score.”
Scott
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded to know.
I’d been craving Sydney’s mouth the moment she’d left Wyoming. Her mouth and, well, frankly, everything else. Kissing her again only supercharged this driving hunger I’d developed since that day in the bathroom. Which sucked because I was pretty certain it was not reciprocated.
Pulling away far enough to look into her eyes, I’d murmured, “One more. And try to act like you’re enjoying yourself this time,” knowing I was playing with fire and that it was only a matter of time before she got fed up and delivered swift physical retribution. Which I more than deserved.
But then I’d caught it, the momentary loss of control over the emotions she held in check with a steel grip. There was a lot going on in that big brain of hers. Reluctance, desire, pride. You name it and I watched it flash across her face. Then worry joined the rest, and my chest got tight and guilt made me look away. She’d thought I was playing her again.
“Somewhere private.” I led her down the marble stairwell of the library and found an alcove out of the direct line of sight of guests coming and going, shielded her body with mine.
“Enough, Scott. I’m tired and I want to go home.”
Her voice was quiet, subdued. I almost wished she’d give me some attitude, even her ice princess impression would’ve made this apology easier. Straightening, I shoved my hands in my pockets.
“I owe you an apology…for what happened back in Wyoming.” I could probably count on one hand the times I’d apologized to anyone in my entire life and this was proving even more difficult than I’d anticipated. Her non-reaction compelled me to continue. “But you had to know what was coming––”
“Excuse me?” she jumped in, her face blanketed with confusion.
“You blackmailed a man you barely knew into marriage. How did you think it was gonna go?”
Her face twitched almost imperceptibly. You wouldn’t have caught it if you didn’t know to look for it. But I did. I knew every slight nuance of her expressions now.
“This is you trying to apologize? Is that what you think you’re doing?”
I was about to explain it to her when she swapped her favorite neutral expression for an indignant one. “You know what your problem is, Scott––you’re a rich asshole who’s always gotten his way. Money has bought you a free pass your entire life, and for the first time it’s cost you.”
I scoffed, almost laughing at the hypocrisy. “You’re lecturing me about money? You––Miss Junior League––lecturing me about privilege?”
“You don’t know anything about me.” She was getting the wrinkle between her blonde brows, the one I’d learned meant she was gearing up for a fight.
“I know you enough.”
Then it hit me. Belatedly, it occurred to me that she hadn’t introduced me to anyone. The room behind us was filled with my father’s people. My family, friends, and acquaintances. Where were hers? “Where’s your family? Why didn’t they come tonight?”