“I haven’t forgotten a thing.”
“That’s not true,” I whispered sadly. “You’ve forgotten what I said to you the night you brought me back in the springs. You’ve forgotten that I said I was in love with you. That it didn’t come with conditions or commands. That I couldn’t hate you for what you did yesterday or tomorrow.” I sighed, nursing the pain deep inside. “Don’t you see what I’m offering you? Cut doesn’t love you, Jethro.He’sthe one controlling you. Choose me.Loveme. And we can be free together.”
Jethro growled under his breath. “Stop wasting your time. It’s not going to happen.”
George pranced closer, clicking his camera, capturing us for eternity.
“You’ll see, Kite. Eventually, you will see, and I hope for both our sakes it isn’t too late.”
That was the last time we talked while we became the perfect models for George. For the next hour, we were told where to stand, how to smile, what to do. Photographs were taken in front of Hawksridge, in the stables with the foxhounds threading around our feet, and beneath the apple trees in the orchard.
With each click of the shutter, my heart fell a little more. I had no doubt the pictures would turn the world from suspicion to adoration. The rumours would die. The questions would disappear. And life would move on.
Exactly as the Hawks intended.
Chapter Twenty
Jethro
SCREW HER AND her conniving plans.
I wanted to fucking throw something, punch someone, and surrender to the rapidly building hailstorm inside.
You need a top-up.
I thought my dosage was perfect, but it was useless against her. The intensity she projected—the feral energy and righteous anger. It was enough to fucking cripple my walls and blow away my numbing fog.
Not going to happen.
I’d come so far. I wouldn’t go back. Icouldn’t. I wouldn’t survive and not just because Cut would kill me, but because I couldn’t live that way any longer. I wasn’t fucking built for this disease. I’d done my penance. Twenty-nine long years of it.
Pulling the small bottle from my pocket as I entered my quarters, I placed two pills on my tongue and swallowed them back.
Nila hadn’t even been back a day and I’d already tripled the amount I normally took.
And when I kissed her.
Fuck!
What was Ithinking?
To get so close to her? To taste her again?
I’d planned on an impromptu ad-lib for the article, but it fucking backfired on me.
I stormed into my bathroom and tore off the grey suit I’d worn for theVanity Fairinterview. Cold sweat drenched my back. Goosebumps covered my skin as I stripped the rest of my clothing and stepped into the shower.
As soon as the meeting was over, I’d left Nila in the parlour and stormed to my room. Being around George and Sylvie had been easy. Their reactions and opinions didn’t lash at me nearly as much as Nila’s did.
What was it about her? Why couldn’t I block her out?
Hot water rained over me, burning my flesh. Instead of washing away the tension of the morning, all I could think about was Nila pleasuring herself with the showerhead a few weeks ago. The way her face had tightened and pleasure made her glow. She’d never looked so goddamn beautiful.
My cock thickened, demanding I do something about the ache.
I couldn’t let her do this to me. Not again. Not after I’d had the bestmonth of my life with my father. I’d finally found something that could work. I’d finally tasted freedom.
I just had to stay out of Nila’s clutches and do what I was born to do.
