Caught Between Two Billionaires - Skye Warren Page 0,82
hotel room I don’t think I had any claims of monogamy. You can kiss whoever you want.”
Those same words might come from a man with no desire for commitment. Instead they’re filled with a dark amusement. It makes me remember the glint in his eyes when he watched Christopher take my virginity. The way his Southern charm had slipped for a moment, revealing a cunning underneath. “Whoever I want, as long as you’re in the room, pulling the strings. Is that how you like it?”
There’s heat in those blue eyes. Betrayal and hurt, but enough heat to blaze like summer. “That’s how you liked it, too. I remember how hard you came, honey. Your beautiful thighs trembling. Wet enough to soak the sheets.”
My body responds with suddenness, warmth spreading through my body, a wildfire in a dry forest. This isn’t the time to be aroused. Sutton must know that. He watches me with that same cunning beneath the surface. It makes me want to toss a pebble into it, to make him ripple. “Why did you come here? Are you following me?”
“It was only a matter of time before you came to see Christopher.”
“That means yes.”
“Do you want me to apologize?” He drawls the word, making it sound like a mockery. Except he should apologize for following me. And like he said, we hadn’t made any promises of monogamy, no matter how shameful I felt to be caught kissing someone else.
Tanglewood is a blade. I’m torn in two pieces, one that loves Christopher. That’s always loved Christopher in all his terrible ambition. And one half that loves Sutton, the man of few words and dangerous trust, the man staring at me like I’m the enemy. “I don’t think you’re that concerned with what I want. This is some sort of game for you, and you’ve been playing since I first met you in the boardroom.”
“You’re a beautiful woman. A man would be crazy not to want you.”
“Except that’s not why you wanted me. It was a competition with Christopher.” The certainty makes my stomach turn inside out. “That’s why you pursued me from the beginning, why you invited me to the gala, why you made me the offer about the historical society.”
Blue eyes glitter. Why have I never seen how much they look like a hard gem? A stone made beautiful and sharp. “You want to question my motives, honey? You’re the one who came storming into the office like a woman on a crusade. Looking for Christopher.”
The words echo in the air around us. Looking for Christopher, he says while we stand in Christopher’s empty apartment. “I didn’t know,” I whisper, my throat burning. “I didn’t know that I loved him.”
And how for me to realize it, when there’s no hope of a happy ending. No solace for me now. No permanence in a gilded world.
Sutton gives me a small smile, this one small and true. “Honest,” he says, a little sad. “Honest to a fault.”
It would have been impossible to choose between these two men, but sometimes love doesn’t give you a choice. The heart has its own balance sheet. It makes its own calculations. I’m the last person to find out what it decides.
I leave the cold, sterile apartment alone, walking down concrete steps to a waiting black car. It’s little comfort that I control the trust fund, that I control my own fortune. I’m one of the richest women in the country. In the world. Money can’t buy love or trust or safety. It can’t stop a thousand pounds of forged steel when it’s already swinging toward me. It can’t make the pain disappear.
THE EVOLUTION OF MAN
Dear Christopher,
Enclosed you’ll find a formal offer to purchase the land and building of Bardot and Mayfair Development Parcel A, formerly known as the Tanglewood Library. Enclosed you will find terms equal to the last sale price plus interest. I hope you find this more than reasonable for a property that’s currently sitting unused and half turned to rubble.
PS. And you know a library will help the community and revitalize the west side of the city.
Dear Harper,
I regret to inform you that the asking price of the property has increased significantly, due to recent media interest. A famous artist sparked a citywide protest that had its own hashtag. In fact looters were able to sell pieces of painted concrete for up to five thousand dollars online. As such Bardot and Mayfair cannot accept less than two billion dollars.