A thorn in his fucking side, yet it’s somehow a delight.
As I watch the scenery shift from blue sky to puffy white clouds, I let myself admit that Edwina is so much better than she realizes.
I suppose it’s time she knew it too.
PART III
HOW TO ROMANCE YOUR RIVAL
CHAPTER TWENTY
EDWINA
After my eventful time in the Solar Court, I need a few days to relax and recover. With our next signing not scheduled until mid-week, I’m given exactly that. What better way to enjoy leisure time than at a luxury hotel in the middle of winter? Nothing screamsstay cozy indoorsmore than the Verity Hotel at the center of downtown Vernon, Winter Court.
Our rooms are plush, richly furnished, and heated to perfection. Every meal is hosted in the elegant public dining room or brought straight to our doors. The view outside our windows—falling flakes, streets and shops blanketed in white, towering snow-capped mountains far in the distance—provides a perfect way to enjoy the lovely weather without needing to step outside.
More relaxing than anything, however, is my respite from William. The room I share with Daphne is next door to the one William shares with Monty, but we see little of each otherover the next couple of days. I’m at very little risk of William gaining points in our bet. Monty informed us that Vernon is a resort town that caters primarily to human tourists. Here human propriety is valued. There are no rowdy gatherings in the hotel, no opportunities to mingle with unknown parties without formal introductions first. This is not the place to solicit strangers for a casual fling.
Still…
It wouldn’t hurt to check.
A glance at the clock on the mantle tells me it’s just after ten in the evening. I dined with Monty and William a few hours ago, and I watched William enter his room afterward with a tired yawn. A yawn I mirrored just for show. It’s been this way between us for the last couple of days. Faking yawns. Silently emphasizing that another uneventful night shall pass.
Though is itreallyuneventful?
I know mine is.
But what if William is faking it?
He knows I won’t use my free pass unless it’s for the sake of sabotage. If he wants to steal a point when I least expect it, it would be now.
I pad across my room’s soft cream carpeted floors to the oak wardrobe. From inside, I extract one of the burgundy velvet robes stocked within. I wrap it around my chemise and proceed to my door. Pressing my ear against it, I listen for footsteps in the hall. Thankfully, Daphne isn’t here to poke fun at my strange behavior. She’s spent much of her time outdoors since we arrived in Vernon. Turns out, the pine marten is fond of snow.
Hearing nothing out of the ordinary in the hall, I crack open my door and peer out. The lamps are dim, casting the ivory-and-sage brocade walls in a soft golden glow. An hour ago, I heard the telltale sound of William’s door closing, which means either he or Monty—or both—left their room. I tried peeking then, butall I caught was a flash of movement as a figure rounded the hall. It’s possible it was only Monty leaving to join the men smoking and drinking in the dining room after hours, and it’s equally possible he returned without me hearing him.
But what if it was William?
What if he managed to subvert the hotel’s strict rules of propriety and secured himself a lover? If both he and Monty left at the same time, William could have returned before his roommate for a quick tryst. I’ve been writing at my desk all evening, my attention half attuned to the adjoining wall. No sound has stood out, but what if the walls are well insulated? What if they’re enchanted to muffle sounds? Just because I heard William’s door close once doesn’t mean I’ve caught everything else.
I open my door wider and glance down one end of the hall, then the other. Empty. On silent feet, I tiptoe to the next door over and press my ear to it. I listen.
Listen.
Listen.
But all I hear is the pounding of my heart. I slow my breathing, angle my head, press in closer?—
“What are we listening for?”
A strangled yelp erupts from my throat as I whirl around. How the hell did William sneak up on me? Even going so far as to press his ear to the door right beside me without me hearing a damn thing? He chuckles and takes a sip from a tumbler he holds in one hand, then reclines against the door frame.
He arches a brow. “Spying on me, love?”
I take in his dark mussed hair, his open collar and waistcoat. Terror surges through me as I consider whether he dallied with someone in their room instead of his. Don’t the terms of our bet require that our acts of physical intimacy are exchanged behind our own bedroom doors? Yet that doesn’t mean William can’tseek pleasure for the sake of it alone. A tide of fury washes over me at the thought, so sharp I have to cross my arms over my chest to keep it contained.
“Goodnight, Mr. Haywood.” I march past him toward my room, but his arm comes around my elbow. Halting in place, I glare up at him. “What?”
