My eyes widen. Did he just… apologize? Again? “You already said sorry.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I don’t apologize,” he states with a firmness that makes me smile, because I clearly remember the apology.
It’s one of the few things I remember.
“You did. It was the first thing you said when you got outof the car.”
Ashton scowls. “I really doubt that. I shouldn’t have said anything of the sort to you, the victim of an accident, in case you took that as a measure of my guilt and responsibility.”
I blink. “I thought it was nice that you said sorry,” I say slowly. “And itwasan accident. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. So was I. That’s it. I don’t hold you responsible.”
“You’re the only one who doesn’t.” For a moment, raw pain sparks in his eyes, and then it’s gone, so quickly that I wonder if I saw any reaction. He takes a step backward. “I’ll see you around the castle.”
I laugh wryly. “You really don’t have to.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to?”
“Well, because…” I don’t finish the thought because why would he want to come and see me? “I don’t know.”
He pauses, glancing at the door, and then at me.
And then the most amazing, wondrous, confusing thing happens.
He sits down.
Ashton Carrington takes the plastic covered chair, the one without much padding that my mother spent several minutes complaining about, and pulls it close to my bed.
I can only stare at him.
“So,” he says.
8
Ashton
I’mtorn.
I understand why my father commanded me to—I won’t saywoo, because it makes me feel like even more of sleaze—befriendSophie. I told myself it’s because he’s worried about me.
Maybe he is, if you look at my reputation and the impact it has on the reputation of the company as part of his worry.
I know what I need to do, but the thought of what Fenella will say is tripping me up.
She knows Sophie.Iknow Sophie; I know how sweet and kind and caring she is.
But still— “How’s your foot?” I ask awkwardly.
I have made small talk with heads of states, heads of countries, and Oscar winners, so why should it be so awkward for me to try and start a conversation with Sophie Laz?
When I smile at a woman, words bubble out of her mouth. Sometimes the words don’t make much sense, but there is talking. There is flirting, because flirting comes naturally when I’m in the presence of a beautiful woman.
Except now.
Two minutes in, and it’s clear I have no game with Sophie Laz. It should be instantaneous. Natural, because that’s what I do.
