“I wish I were a better man. For you. But I’m not. I am the Dread Lord.”
“The Dread Lord isn’t that bad.”
“Oh, but he is. He was raised to be cruel and cut down anyone weaker than him. But then he hired this amazing woman to be his assistant. She’s brilliant and beautiful, the only person who can make him laugh. She gets him. And she works hard, harder than anyone else, and soon she’s the only thing he looks forward to when he wakes each day.” His arms tighten around me, not letting me get away. I’m glad he can’t see my face because my mouth is hanging open.
“But he’s an ogre and doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t understand what feelings are. His father told him therapy was for the weak.
“So he drowns himself in work and more work, making money until his pile is bigger than anyone else’s. But it doesn’t make him happy, nothing does. Except for her. But he doesn’t know how to talk to her, so he bullies her mercilessly.
“He wishes he could let her go, but he can’t. He’s not good enough. But he hates himself for what he puts her through. And every time he sees her, he wants to take care of her. Because I do, Wellesley. I want to take care of you. I want to give you everything.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know myself. But I’m trying to be better, Wellesley, for you. That’s what Marty said, practically in his last breath. ‘Hang on to her. Don’t let her go.’”
“Oh.” My heartbeat booms in my ears.
“He told me to marry you. Do whatever it takes, he said. Don’t let her get away.”
My mind goes blank. Me and Piers, married? It does not compute.
“I’ve cared for you. I’ve always cared for you, I just didn’t know it.”
I frown, wanting to shrink back. This isn’t making sense. I can’t believe he actually wanted to be… with me. “You really want me. You want to be with me.”
“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Honestly? Yes.” I can’t imagine us together. I mean, I can because I fantasize about it all the time. But in reality? He’s a billionaire, and I’m his assistant. Sure, Marty always said it was like I could read Pier’s mind. Sloan thinks I’m the only one who can put up with him. But being together is different. “I already told you I’m not cut out to be a trophy wife.”
“You wouldn’t be a trophy.” He squeezes my arms. “You’d be mine.”
“I fantasize about you, all the time,” I blurt. “All sorts of fantasies. But I never thought—” I pry his hands open so I can turn and face him. “I never thought you felt anything for me.”
“Darling.” He captures my hand, brings it to his mouth. Kisses it.
I touch his face. He feels real. But I don’t know if this is real. And if it is, where do we go from here?
“Wellesley, please. You make me better. I want to be better. I’ll call into town and make sure you’re back in the city by tomorrow. Just please tell me I haven’t fucked this up. Please tell me I haven’t lost you.”
I rest my cheek against his chest. I can’t speak, but I can let him hold me. It’s not an answer, but it’s enough for now.
For tomorrow, though? I need a Christmas miracle.
Dear Santa…
I gaze out at the tree and make my wish.
CHAPTER 7
Once again, daylight punches me in the face. The blinds are open, the sun is high, and the glare on the snow is fierce.
It’s Christmas morning. I fell asleep in Pier’s arms after all those candlelit confessions. My abs and pussy are a bit sore from our amazing sexy times, but other than that, I feel amazing.
Fast asleep, Piers’s face looks kinder, more open. I forgive him for his past transgressions, I really do.
But I don’t know if we can be together.
What would that even look like?
