The Hating Season (Seasons #2) - K.A.Linde Page 0,107

for a full minute. And I knew she was the one.

“What should we name her?” I asked Court.

He stared down at the wild, unruly kitten I’d chosen. “Train Wreck.”

I snorted. “How about Muffin?”

“Muffin? That savage thing? It’d be better off with the name Trouble.”

“All right,” I said, glancing down at the cat again. “Do you want to come home with us, Trouble?”

Court just laughed. “I think she does.”

We paid her fees, got her all situated, bought her a ton of supplies, and then took her home with us. She promptly attempted to ruin Court’s penthouse, but he didn’t seem to care. Trouble was too cute. And we were going to redecorate anyway.

A few hours later, I leaned back against Court. Trouble was passed out between us on a blanket. Court pressed a kiss into my forehead.

“I love you, Anna,” he breathed against my hair.

“I love you, too.” Then, I ran a finger down Trouble’s forehead. “We love you, Trouble.”

Court just laughed and drew me in for another kiss. “Today couldn’t get any better.”

I grinned devilishly and then climbed carefully over the kitten and into his lap. “Oh, I think it could.”

The world slipped away, as it always did. Until it was just me and Court. And nothing else mattered.

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The Breaking Season

Chapter 1 — Katherine

My patent leather high heels clicked against the hardwood floors. I reached the wall, pivoted, and walked back the length of the room. I was wearing a path in my penthouse.

My phone buzzed. Again.

I still hadn’t answered it. I knew precisely who was messaging me and why.

I still had time to get in a cab and make it to dinner. If I left now, I wouldn’t even be late. And still I paced back the other direction.

A muscle fluttered in my jaw as I heard my phone go off one more time. I stilled, forcing my body to stop its incessant pacing. Then the phone started ringing. I grumbled and wrenched it off of the counter.

“What?” I snapped.

“Happy anniversary to you too, darling,” Camden said silkily on the other line.

A facade. He didn’t care about our anniversary.

“Why do you keep messaging me?” I asked him irritably.

“There’s still time for me to pick you up in the limo.”

“I already said that I’d take a cab.”

He said nothing. Didn’t even sigh. Gave not the slightest bit of notice that he was frustrated with my attitude. But today was not my day. Today was the one year anniversary of our arranged marriage. I couldn’t act like it was anything else even if he could.

“I don’t see the need,” he finally said.

“I will meet you at the restaurant,” I barely got out.

“You will be there, correct?” His voice was low and guttural as if it irked him that he even had to ask.

“I just said that I would.”

Though I had thought of every available excuse to get out of it, including sneaking onto Lark’s private jet and heading down to the Caribbean a few days early. But I knew none of them would pass muster. Camden would just meet me at the resort and be furious with me. And I knew what would happen from there. What always happened when his temper flared.

Heat ran up my throat and I touched my fingers to it.

“I’ll be there,” I said a little breathlessly.

“Good. Don’t be late,” he growled before hanging up.

“Fucker,” I snapped back at him.

I wouldn’t be late, but fuck, did I want to. No, I didn’t want to go at all. I knew what this whole fucking pretense was about. Why he’d scheduled this dinner and forced me to stay behind while my friends darted off to sun and sand and frozen drinks with little umbrellas.

One year ago, I’d agreed to be his wife.

This year, he wanted everything else I’d signed away.

Time for me to live up to my end of the bargain.

I released a breath and forced my face back to neutral. This wasn’t who I was. I didn’t run. I was Katherine Van Pelt. Sexy, fierce, and formidable. Not even the likes of Camden Percy could make me waver.

It was just dinner.

A stupid fucking dinner.

It didn’t mean that I had to give into his demands. I never gave in. Well…not anymore. There had been a moment, barely even a moment if I was honest, when I’d thought that this marriage