Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Seconds, maybe minutes pass, and we lay there like that until she says, “Why didn’t you spank me?”
I pull back to look at her, stroking hair from her face. “I wanted to, but for the wrong reasons.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A spanking is a power play. We both enjoy the give and take that it represents. But it is about power, my power and control, and that has no place between us with a fight in the air and that damn club playing with our heads.”
Her hand settles on my face. “The club isn’t between us. It’s gone. It’s done. And Nick Rogers. If I wasn’t in love with you before this moment, I would be now.”
She presses her lips to mine, and I slant my mouth over hers. In the depths of that kiss is what I have craved, what I have needed: a new level of trust, a willingness to risk it all with me. But hours later as I lay in bed, holding Faith close, I am not reveling in the mountain we’ve climbed today. I’m too busy looking for a way to battle the sea of sharks that are my lies.
Chapter Thirty
Faith
A new day dawns for me with the emotional high of conquering “the club incident,” as I call it in my mind, and with Nick and me a little stronger and a lot closer.
And with my car still at Nick’s office, I hitch a ride with him, with a Starbucks drive-thru detour a few blocks from our destination. “That Chinese food we left on your conference table is going to reek this morning,” I say as we wait at the window for our drinks.
“Rita is going to give me absolute hell about it, too.”
“What are you going to say to explain it?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
I laugh. “That sounds like you.” I inhale and let it out, dreading the nagging concern that sparks my next question. “Did you ask Beck to confirm my art was bought by legitimate buyers?”
And as if waiting for his answer isn’t torture enough, a woman appears at the drive-thru window to take our money. Seeming to sense my nerves, though, Nick ignores her, looks at me, and says, “Your sales are one hundred percent legitimate,” before he turns to her and offers her his credit card. A minute later, he hands me my white mocha and sets his double shot espresso in the drink holder, rolling the window back up, which is my cue to press for more information.
“Did Beck check out my sales, then? Or, rather, the buyers?”
He places the car into gear and glances over at me. “This is going to make you doubt yourself, isn’t it? You do remember you got into the L.A. show for a reason, right?”
“I do,” I say as he pulls us onto the road. “But I’d like a firm grip on how well I’m doing. And the bottom line here is that if those sales weren’t real sales, they might track back to my uncle. That could be the link we need between him and this hell we’ve been through with the winery. If he was behind those broken water lines, Nick, I want him to pay.”
“And he will. I’ll make sure of it.”
“We need to buy some time for you and Beck to make those connections. I’d say we could place the winery up for sale—just for show, of course—but it would freak out Kasey and the staff. But it might bring our enemy out of hiding.”
“And perhaps not in a good way,” he says. “Whoever is behind this could see that as my negative reaction as a new investor to the vineyard water damage. They’ll also see me as someone who will try to push the price upward despite that loss. In which case, they might try to further drive the price down by creating another problem.”
“But they had to suspect that could be your reaction to the financial blow,” I say as he pulls us into the parking garage and parks next to the BMW. “Maybe that’s what they wanted.”
“I’m leaning more toward them thinking I’d bow out and leave it to you, while you would end up just wanting out.”
“Which brings me back to my recent sales. To someone trying to give me motivation to get out.”
“Your sales are legitimate, Faith, and as for the rest, we can speculate all day, but I’m not ready to take calculated risks just yet. Let’s give Beck a little more room to do his job. And the reality here is that now that we’ve bought out your note, this might fizzle out.”
“The water damage says it won’t.”
“Or it was unrelated, or one last blow delivered by a bad loser.” He reaches for his door. “I’ll come around to get you.”
I don’t give him time to help me out of the car. I slip my tan purse, which I’ve paired with my favorite faded jeans and a matching pair of brown ankle boots, over my shoulder, and open my door. By the time I’m standing, Nick has arrived and is now towering over me, his navy blue eyes a perfect match for his suit and the dots in his black tie. And really, truly, I could stand here and take a deep blue swim in those eyes for a few minutes, or even hours, and be perfectly happy.