Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Why? I want to demand of Misty. Why does it have to be River?
My hackles are rising. I can feel my skin tightening around my flesh.
But why? I have no hold on River. Sure, there's this undeniable thing between us—a physical chemistry that's impossible to ignore. When we’re together, the air crackles with electricity, and I’m pulled toward him as if he’s a magnet and I’m steel.
But that’s just physical. It’s not like it’s anything deeper, though I do find a comfort in his presence. A sense of ease.
But I’m in control. It’s just a bit of fun. I can’t let the silly little moments, the fleeting feelings, mean anything more. He won’t leave Montana, and I won’t leave New York.
And that is that.
But something about Misty’s attitude threatens me. Almost frightens me, as if I’m about to lose something dear to me. Why does Misty want River Barrett so badly? Other than for the obvious reasons?
I take a step toward her. “Any one of us could be a good fit for River, you know. What on earth makes you think you have some special claim on him?” As I speak, the image of River’s gaze meeting mine sears into my brain. I feel his hard cock inside me as he fucks me, brings me to climax. I swallow. “Honestly, he’s a cowpoke. Hardly your type. He’d be a better fit with…say…someone like Ariel.”
“Or you?” Misty raises her eyebrows.
“Me?” I let out a scoff. “What on earth would make you say that?”
“Nothing.” She sighs. “I can’t explain it any better. It just has to be River.”
“What about Sebastian?” I ask. “He’d be a better fit with your lifestyle. He lives in LA, and the two of you probably run in the same circles. You’d have those friends you seem to be craving. Myriad parties where you could show off your designer wardrobe. Front-row seats at all his engagements. Think of the splash you’d make all over People and all those other rags.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Misty tugs her hands through her long blond locks.
“Then help me understand,” I say. “Why does it have to be River?”
She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t invite me to leave her suite, either.
Frankly, I’m beginning to feel quite cross with her. As if I want to get into a catfight over a man.
He’s not my man.
But he’s not hers either. She may be a privileged little brat used to getting everything she wants, but we’re all on equal footing here on the island. At least that’s what I was led to believe.
I’m so bloody tired of taking a backseat to people with privilege. Unlike Jake Bosworth and his lack of talent, I wasn’t born into a world where opportunities are handed out on a silver platter. No. For me, every step forward has been a battle. I had to fight tooth and nail to get my designs in front of the right people back in London, and when I did, they were overlooked in favor of the founder’s grandson.
So I got proactive, and when the chance came to move to New York and take my career to the next level, I hopped on board without a second thought.
But privilege is at play in New York as well. I work with designers less talented than I who simply have the proper connections. I’ve watched people with half my determination but twice my resources get ahead faster. It’s frustrating—infuriating even—to be forced to compete with them, to be seen as less than they are.
Which is all part of the reason I’m here…
And damned if I’m going to take a backseat to this bratty heiress.
To think, I was actually feeling sorry for her. Poor little rich girl. Mummy shows her love with things instead of affection. Poor thing has designer dresses, jewels, probably a hefty trust fund.
Cry me a bloody river.
Now she wants a cowboy to fall in love with her.
One of these things is not like the other…
What is her game? Why River?
The tension in Misty’s suite thickens.
“I’ll ask again,” I say. “Why are you so set on River?’
And again, no response.
So I take another step forward. “That first night, in the hot tub, you said one of the gentlemen had already made his choice, and the lucky lady was in the tub at that moment. Do you recall that?”
She nods hesitantly.
“Rachel, Ginger, Sienna, and I were all there, along with you.”
She nods again. “Of course I remember.”
“Which man was it, Misty? Who made a decision so quickly?”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” she says, casting her gaze downward.
“I know exactly what you meant. You meant that River had chosen you, didn’t you?”
“No…”
I grab her arm, and not gently.
She yanks it away from me. “Don’t you dare touch me, Emily.”
She’s right. I shouldn’t have done that. No need to get physical over a man who is not mine. But I want to know why she wants River. Why she thinks she’s entitled to him. And why, for the love of God, she thinks he’ll fall for her.