Secret (Betrothed #9) - Penelope Sky Page 0,25

and profession could never possibly understand.

“Never said you didn’t.”

“Well, you’re looking at me like you feel sorry for me.”

“No,” she whispered. “I just think you deserved better, that’s all.”

“That’s not how life works. You don’t deserve anything.” Everything I had was a result of hard work and a high tolerance for risk. My life was on the line many times, but I never had anything to lose, so I wasn’t gambling much in the first place. But now I was at the top of the food chain, with more money than I could spend, with a beautiful woman who wanted me all to herself. Now I had everything to lose…and it was fucking scary.

She watched me for a while, her green eyes still soft and vulnerable. It was a side to her she didn’t show often, but the longer we were together, the more she displayed it. She was less afraid to be weak, less afraid to show me her scars.

And that made her irresistible.

She grabbed her glass and finished it off. “Keep an open mind, alright?” She cleared her throat.

My eyes narrowed on her face.

“What if I just tell Damien the truth?” She released the deep breath she’d been holding. “He respects me, so he’ll listen to me. He’ll do anything for me…anything.”

My heart started to race because that was the worst thing she could possibly do. If she told him about me, he would tell her what I did…and then it would be over. There was zero chance it wouldn’t come up in their conversation, and there was zero chance Damien would ever let my crime go. “That’s the worst thing you can do. There’s nothing you could possibly say to make him feel differently about me.” If she knew the truth, she wouldn’t even entertain the idea. But then again, if she knew the truth, we wouldn’t be together that very instant. “I’ve tried to bury the hatchet with him before. I’ve given him chances to let this go. He won’t.”

Her eyes filled with disappointment. “Maybe you could try harder—”

“There’s not much more I can do.”

“But there’s something.”

I could stop collecting payment altogether, but I’d have to hide the truth from my men, and Damien would definitely be suspicious. “If I stop collecting, he’ll know something is up. He’s not stupid.”

“I don’t know… He can be pretty dumb.”

I smiled slightly. “Just let it go, baby.” We should enjoy this time together until it was over. It would be over someday, so we should spend every moment together like it might be our last…because it could be our last. The end of the relationship wouldn’t even be the most painful part. It would be her reaction, the way her affection would quickly turn to hatred with the snap of her fingers.

She stared at her empty glass and didn’t say more about it.

At least that was over. “Are sunflowers your favorite?”

She took a few seconds to raise her chin and look at me again. “Yes.”

It was an interesting choice, but it fit her well.

“Summer is my favorite season, and that’s the only time of year they grow so…” She shrugged. “We’re kind of the same in that regard. I hate it when it’s cold. I’ll continue to wear dresses through November because I just refuse to let the season end.” She chuckled to herself. “I’m weird like that.”

I’d just learned something new about her, and that new information made her so much more desirable. We’d met at the beginning of summer, and now it was almost over. I never knew her in any other climate.

“What about you?”

I raised an eyebrow, unsure what the question meant.

“You have a favorite season?”

“No. But I like it when it’s cold.”

She stuck out her tongue as she grimaced. “Ugh, I hate winter.”

“I run hot, so you might feel differently about it this year.” I could keep her warm every single night, keep her warm anytime she wanted me inside her. She could wear my sweaters and jackets, could move into my side and suck all the warmth from my skin whenever she wanted.

She shrugged. “We’ll see…” She pulled the bottle of wine toward her and refilled her glass.

I watched her pour it, watched her carry herself with such poise.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” She grabbed my glass and did the same, not lifting her gaze as she asked the question.

“Do I need a reason?”

“No.” She lifted her gaze and took a drink. “But I’m curious.”

Sometimes I thought my thoughts were