Devoured - Cathryn Fox Page 0,5
and brought me into his tribe. A guy who’d been kicked around his entire life, he knew firsthand what it was like to be excluded and made sure every damn newbie felt wanted. After college, I chose to live in New York and took the position of head web developer when Cason created Hard Wear—an online clothing business that caters to men.
“My family is in Sicily, remember?” I say, playing the ace that had been in my pocket.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Malta is just a short ferry ride away, and this is a way for me to go visit them. I haven’t been home since—”
My insides go cold as I let my words fall off, but she gets it. I haven’t been home since my ex up and left weeks before my wedding. It’s been two years, and my sisters still call to check on me—far too much. I tell them I’m fine, and I am, yet they remain intrusive, overbearing, and are always butting into my life—which is why I’m better off in New York where they can’t stalk me on a daily basis.
I love them. I truly do, but I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions. I scoff at that. I’m not even sure getting engaged had been my idea to begin with. One day I’m dating and the next there was talk of a wedding, and I’m pretty sure it was my mother who put Grandmother’s ring on my ex’s finger—not that it stayed there for any length of time.
“Roman, I’m sorry,” she says, her voice thick and sincere. “I don’t think I ever told you that.” She reaches out and puts her hand on my knee. Her touch sizzles through my body and caresses my cock. I glance down, and suddenly, as if she just realized she was touching me, she snatches her hand back like I might have just given her leprosy. She links her fingers together on her lap.
“Thank you,” I say, a canned response even though I do appreciate her words. “It’s fine.” Her brows lift, her expression dubious, but the truth is, it’s not like my ex broke my heart. When she refused to sign the prenup, it confirmed my suspicions. The women in my life want my name and my money; they don’t necessarily want me.
“You’ll be visiting them?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I fib. Hell, I haven’t even told them I’m going to Malta. They’d invade our villa within minutes, before we could even unpack. They’d shower Peyton with love, hugs and kisses, and completely smother us both. “But my main reason for this is to help you get the position. I won’t let anything interfere with that.”
She gives a slow shake of her head. “I’m just not sure you can pull this off,” she says, like she’s still looking for a way out of this insane arrangement her brother cooked up.
“I can pull it off,” I say.
She crinkles up her nose, scrunching the cluster of freckles that have been holding me captive since she grew into a beautiful woman. “You literally just flinched when I touched you.”
I give a casual shrug. “You took me by surprise.”
“What if I touch you in public? If you react like that people will know we’re pretending. We have to present a happy, loving couple.” She pushes back into her seat and lets loose a frustrated sigh. Her head falls back, her eyes unfocused on the overhead lighting. “They say the marriage restriction in hiring single female teachers has been lifted, but behind the scenes it’s still practiced.” The frustration in her voice is palpable and wraps around my chest like a tight belt. “They won’t hire an unwed woman, Roman,” she adds, her frown deepening.
I lean toward her, my stomach on fire at the unfairness in the world. She wants this job, and goddammit I’ll help her burst through that glass ceiling and do whatever it takes for her to get it. No one, and I mean no one, deserves to have their dreams realized more than this woman does.
“That’s not fair,” I say, my tone just dark enough to have her gaze flying to mine. What, is she surprised that I agree with her?
“You’re right. It’s not.”
“You should get the job on your own merit,” I say. “You’re smart, one of the smartest women I know. You’re dedicated, and kind, and let me tell you, I’ve never met any woman wanting to give back to a society that was so cruel to her.