Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Lex grabs our bags while I have no choice but to accompany his mother, listening to her gush about how good it is to have Lex visit.
Standing in the great foyer is a tall man with the same dark hair as Lex but shot through with gray. “Charles Hamilton,” he greets, his handshake firm, his smile kind. “We’ve heard a lot about you, Posey.”
My head swivels to Lex, an eyebrow raised. “What exactly have you been saying?”
Lex gives me that patented smirk that makes me want to knock it off his face with a kiss. “Just that you’re totally hampering my lifestyle.”
Lex’s mom waves him off. “Oh, stop it, Lex.”
The twinkle in his eye gives me butterflies. His gaze slides from me to his mother. “Actually… we’re having a fling.”
“Lex,” I exclaim, my face heating from the blatant admission.
He laughs, puts his arm around my shoulders and draws me in. “Don’t get all shy, Posey. A fling is a perfectly acceptable relationship for a hot shot race car driver like me.”
I know my face is now scarlet, and I can barely breathe. “Lex—” I stammer, but before I can finish, his mother laughs.
“A fling, huh?” she teases, raising an eyebrow, and I can tell by the tone of her voice she doesn’t believe a word of it. “Well, dear boy, I don’t recall you bringing any flings home before.”
Lex winks at me. “Exactly, Mum. I don’t.”
What does that even mean? On its face, he’s confirming his mom’s assumption that he’s just teasing about us having a temporary, sexual relationship but on the other, one could argue he means that this is more than a fling.
Ridiculous. While I’m the one who suggested our boundaries, I did it knowing that’s what Lex would respond best to. He’s in no way, shape or form ever going to get tied down in a committed relationship and by my setting the tone to give him what he wants, it’s the best way to protect my heart.
“Lex is a scamp,” Tori says as she leads us into a formal living room. “You can never trust a thing he says.”
I’m floored when I take in the grandeur as Tori moves to a tea service laid out on a sideboard.
The room is bathed in natural light that filters through tall windows framed with heavy, floor-length drapes in a pale sage green and gold brocade. The high ceilings have ornate crown molding while the walls are painted in soft ivory, except for one wall that’s adorned with what looks to be silk floral wallpaper in complementary tones. Oil paintings of beautiful landscapes hang in ornate gilded frames. The furniture looks delicate and expensive with carved wooden legs and luxurious upholstery. A grand fireplace dominates one side of the room, its mantelpiece made of carved stone, displaying silver candlesticks, framed photographs in gold and a large antique clock. Above the fireplace is an oil portrait of the Hamiltons—Tori, Charles, Lex’s sister Claire and of course, Lex, who looks to be about ten. He had the same messy dark hair and piercing blue eyes, dimples threatening, and you can see back then he was going to grow up to be stunningly handsome.
Tori offers us steaming cups and while we chat, I notice her glancing at me every so often, almost as if she’s studying me. But it’s not uncomfortable—it’s more like she’s curious.
While we sip at tea, Lex’s parents grill him about the Bahrain Global Prix coming up, focusing on his preparations. I hear the worry in their tone, but it does not overshadow their extreme pride in his career.
Eventually, attention comes back to me and Lex’s father says, “Tell us about your work as a sports journalist, Posey.”
I freeze, teacup poised halfway to my mouth—how could I have been so stupid as to not think they wouldn’t want to know about me personally? And while I’d love to tell them all about the real me, I can’t do that. I can’t admit the ruse.
I shoot Lex a panicked look and he conveys with the hike of one eyebrow that he had not thought about it either. Before I can even stammer out something that wouldn’t be a full-out lie to these lovely people, Lex says, “You know what… it’s getting late and I figured Posey might want to go for a ride before dinner.”
“A ride?” I ask.
“On one of our horses.”
I gape at Lex. “You didn’t tell me you have horses.”
He smiles innocently. “Thought I’d leave that as a surprise.” He shrugs. “Surprise.”
“Wow,” I murmur in amazement. “I can’t envision you riding horses. Not fast enough for you.”
Lex’s parents laugh as does Lex. He shakes his head. “I don’t ride. Never took to it, but Mum does. She wanted to take you, which was why I was trying to hurry you out the door this morning.”