Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“Listen to me,” I say, turning to face her fully. My hands cupping her smooth, tanned cheeks. “Your father has secrets in New York, things he’s been hiding for years. I cannot tell you about them, or I’ll break the contract—”
“You mean that if you were the one to divulge the secrets, I wouldn’t have to marry you.” Such an intelligent girl. “Is that why you want to keep me in the dark? I could just go to my grandmother and ask her about it. She’d tell me the truth.”
“Would she?” I challenge easily, knowing that Grace Bardot would rather die than tell her sweet granddaughter about her past and present secrets.
For a long moment, Scarlett stares at me. Her lips part on a soft sigh before she shakes her head. “I don’t know.” There’s a sadness to her face, an emotion I want to eradicate.
Stepping closer to her, eating up the distance between us, I allow my larger frame to loom over her. With my index finger under her chin, I tilt her head until she’s looking directly at me. The silence hangs heavy with desire. As much as Scarlett doesn’t want to feel something, she knows there’s a magnetism between us, it’s palpable.
“I want nothing more than to keep you here tonight, to sit with you on the couch, drink whisky, and talk about growing up as a Shaw.” My admission is startling to both of us, but I don’t stop. “I want you to know who I am. Even though I’m the monster in this story, the wolf seeking out his prey, I wouldn’t hurt you. Not unless you want it.”
“You’d just devour me whole until nothing is left,” Scarlett responds, the confession true as it escapes her glossy lips.
Arching a brow at her, I challenge, “I didn’t hear you complaining the last time I made you come.”
The corner of her mouth quirks. “No, you’re right. I want to hate you—”
“But you can’t. It’s not who you are.” It’s true. The woman before me may have anger toward me for what I did, but she doesn’t hate. It’s not in her vocabulary. Not in her personality. And as much as I wish I could remain cold-hearted where Scarlett is concerned, I can’t deny the pull, the desire that warms my blood each time she’s near.
Call it lust.
Call it stupidity.
But it’s most definitely undeniable.
25
Scarlett
I didn’t think I would find myself intrigued by Lycan. Or grow to want to know more about him, but over the past couple of weeks, I have. It feels as if I’ve been here for months already. Instead, it’s not been that long at all. As we near the Bardot house, Lycan offers me his arm, which I accept.
I wanted to bring him down. But I have a feeling there’s so much more to this story than I wanted to admit. There are secrets he’s keeping from me, and the more time I spend with him, I’m almost certain I can learn the truth about my family.
The admission Gray offered about the curse has also been playing on my mind. I’ll ask Grace what happened with Conall; she has to tell me. I’m her blood. Her family. She cannot refuse me answers when I’m about to walk down the aisle with the son of her first love.
The door stands open, golden light flowing from the entrance, and we’re welcomed by one of the servants I recognize from when I arrived. Seconds after our coats are taken, we’re escorted through the living room entrance where a few guests are already mingling.
“There she is.” Grace’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn to find my grandmother looking as elegant as ever. “Darling, you look beautiful.” She leans in, gripping my shoulders and places a kiss on each of my cheeks. When her gaze lands on the man beside me, I notice a flicker of annoyance, but other than that, my grandmother is a steel mask of happiness. “Lycan,” she grits but smiles as she does it. Shocking me, my grandmother takes his hands, leaving me to gawk at them. “I trust you’re well. It’s been far too long.”
A cruel smirk curls Lycan’s lips, and I’m sure he’s about to insult her in some way, but he says, “Likewise, Mrs. Bardot.” I realize my soon-to-be husband is playing a role. “I think once the party is underway, we should have a chat. There are a few things I need to go over with you.” It’s not a friendly request; it’s an ice-cold command.
“I have company, Lycan.” All my life, knowing my grandmother, I’ve never seen her falter, but right now, she’s shaking as her throat works on a nervous swallow.
As much as I want Lycan to drop it, I have a feeling he’s only going to continue on his quest until she agrees. And I’m not wrong, but also shocked when he says, “I’m hoping to take Scarlett to the Big Apple tomorrow, so what we need to talk about has to be tonight.”