She’d been attracted to him, and he’d fully intended to capitalize on that. The sensual pull had been mutual, and he’d been…
Relieved.
The end of this nightmare had come into focus.
But she hadn’t been playing games. She hadn’t been flirting or playing coy. But why not tell him the truth to begin with?
Would it have made a difference to him? Ironically enough, the only reasons she’d supplied that rang of any truth at all had been the last one.
And although it seemed ridiculous, he believed her.
Was he prepared to give up?
Long after she’d walked out of his study, out of his life, Hunt had remained frozen, staring at the settee where they’d shared the most spectacular sexual encounter of his life, and he…
Well…
He had brooded.
He’d been presented with more than one opportunity to ruin her—to force her into marrying him. He could have had sex with her and then made it public, compromising her beyond redemption—perhaps even gotten her with child and saved himself by robbing her of choices.
Or, he could have explained the full extent of his circumstances. Hell, he could have begged her to change her mind.
Not at all manly, he realized, but if she feared for his life—for his safety—surely, she’d do what she could to save him from Malum’s reach?
The image of her on her knees—her full lips wrapped around his cock—slammed into him. She’d said she wanted to give him something.
The memory assaulted him like an exotic drug.
Who was she? What motivated her? Moments had struck when he’d wondered if he knew her at all, and then others when he felt as though she was the missing half of his soul. Would she forever be a mystery? Would he go through life missing a part of himself?
“Excellent work, Father.” His voice echoed off the cave walls. Why had he demanded she stay until the house party was over? Likely, he was going to have to return to London early himself.
Edge would come with him, but Damien would be required to stay behind to oversee his ale.
But that his own future was so simple…
Hunt had inherited his father’s title, this grand estate, and all the responsibilities that came with them, and he hadn’t minded.
But he resented like hell that he’d also inherited his father’s sins.
How had he imagined he’d find a way around it?
A temporary setback, he tried bolstering himself. And yet, Allison’s final rejection had diminished a good deal of his life force.
Hunt’s knees buckled, and he did nothing to keep his back from sliding down the slick cave wall.
The sand beneath him was cold but only a little damp.
The tide rarely made it up to the cave. The thought gave him pause to contemplate the powerful storms off the coast capable of moving an entire sea. Unseen powers, much like his father imposing himself on Hunt from the grave.
He shook his head at such fanciful thoughts. Now, who was being paranoid?
A flash of light twinkled for a second on the bottle of champagne. Without bothering with one of the glasses, Hunt uncorked the celebratory drink and raised it to his lips.
She’d said she liked him too much.
He tipped the bottle back and drained a long, deep swallow.
