Page 99 of Threaded Lies

“Like?”

I shift up on my elbow and press a kiss to hers. It’s slow and seductive and completely opposite of the free-for-all, can’t-get-enough sex we just had.

I sink into the feel of her lips and the taste of her kiss. Do I want to care more?

Maybe I already do.

And maybe I already know the predetermined outcome. There’s no way there can be anything between Rowan Rothschild and me.

This was just supposed to be sex.

This was just supposed to be a complication.

What happens when things get too close in my life? I cut them off.

And yet I’m still here.

Still craving more of her.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Holden

“Jules. Knight here,” I say to my real estate agent’s voicemail. “I have a few more ideas to go over with you when you’re in town next week. I’ll have Audrey send over the details so you can start looking for me. Same plan of attack, just another dimension. Talk soon.”

I walk around some of the members enjoying their early evening drinks before dinner inside the Westmore Country Club. I nod when I should. I smile when I shouldn’t. I play the fucking game all while looking around, wondering if she’ll be here.

The other night plays in my head. The great dinner. The incredible sex. The giving myself the opportunity to let her in a little more.

Yeah. That.

I told her about my plans in Fairmont. About one of the most innocuous ways I plan on defeating her brother.

The world didn’t end. The universe didn’t implode.

And I gained even more from it than I expected.

Her inheritance.

There’s something there. Her slip to me has teeth. Now I just need to figure out what exactly that is.

I pick up the phone to call Bob to see if he’s found anything out—but know if he has, I’d already know—when there’s a voice at my back.

“You talk any more on that phone, Holden Knight, it just might become attached to that handsome ear of yours.”

I turn to find a striking woman. She’s statuesque with auburn hair, a full mouth, and a dusting of freckles across her nose. I’ve seen her before—know I have, but can’t quite place her.

“I wasn’t aware ears could be handsome.”

“And he’s charming too,” she murmurs and then holds out her hand. “Sloane Vandenberg. Rowan’s best friend. Nice to meet you.”

Interesting. I take her hand and shake it. “Pleasure,” I say, guarded.

“You don’t like the country club much, do you?”

I glance around the patio at the blowhards kissing each other’s asses, the women kowtowing to their husband’s ridiculous ideals, and at the staff being dismissed like they’re nobodies. I know how that feels. “Not particularly.”

“Which is interesting considering how much I see you here.”