Page 18 of The Devil of Hollywood

“I’m not a stranger.” Quinn moved in, looking hurt. “We grew up together, Marian.”

“That’s not what I meant. You don’t understand.” She let out a deep breath, turning to pat against the woman’s hand that clung to her forearm. To say I didn’t know about Penelope’s past was a lie. I knew what she’d been through. I knew her fears. I knew everything about those associated with my future wife.

I turned to the dark-haired younger woman, softening my expression. A scowl wanted to come, and I could barely push it away.

“Penny, this is my cousin Quinton.” Blue eyes darted over but shyly lowered. “You look a little afraid. You can feel safe with him. He’d never let anyone hurt you. He’s very protective over women. Would you like to grab a drink with him or let him take you to your room while I talk with Marian?” I glanced up to narrowed eyes. Marian was hesitant. Afraid. I shrugged at her. “Unless you prefer we go to your room.”

“You need to talk with him. Besides, I could use a drink,” Penny said, quietly, looking up to her.

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I’ll be fine. It’ll be a drink or two. We’ll be right there in the bar, and if I need you, I can text.”

“I’m not sure⁠—”

“Marian.”

The name was more than an order from Penny. It was stern, not to mention unexpected for the previous soft tone and expression. Had it also been some sort of plea? I wasn’t sure.

“Fine. Fifteen minutes.” Marian glanced at me. “We can talk down by the pool area.”

“Great.” I smiled.

Public.

Perfect.

Quinton offered his arm, and Penny hesitantly took it. As they began to walk away, I threw her a challenging look, doing the same. Marian looked at my arm, flexing her jaw as she moved in and held to my bicep. Each step from the lobby area was stiff on her part. Her hand barely connected, and I could tell she wanted to do anything but have this upcoming conversation. She wasn’t the only one. There was nothing left to say. The time had already passed. It was too late for anything but excuses, and I didn’t tolerate those.

“How have you been, Drayton?”

“Great. Life has been… interesting,” I laughed. Fake. Oscar-worthy. “Hollywood. Who would have thought it could be so fun? There’s never a dull moment.”

Marian didn’t smile. She didn’t even look over at me. She just nodded, staring ahead.

“What about you, doll? Anything exciting on your end? Husband? A handful of kids?”

Her hair swayed as she looked over at me. After a few blinks, she quietly turned to face forward again. I wasn’t sure she was going to answer as I turned us and continued to a hallway that led to the pool.

“Not yet. I marry in a few months.”

“I see.” I lifted my arm, making it a point that I was looking at the hand she used to hold to me. “You’re not wearing a ring. I’d think you’d be happy. Is there a reason you don’t wear it?”

Still, she paused before she spoke.

“It’s a ridiculous ring. It catches on everything. I only wear it when I must. Special occasions. Parties. Bastian is fine with that.”

“Bastian.” The name left me with more of a growl than I intended. It had Marian’s gaze returning. “Bastian Allard, I take it.”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“French royalty. Good for you.”

“Nobility, Drayton, they’re not the same.” She made a disgusted sound. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Marian’s voice became strangled as she pulled us to a stop and turned to face me. “What is this about? What do you want from me? An apology? I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.” Tears were heavy in her eyes. “You have to know I am. I never meant⁠—”

My hand lifted, cutting her off. “We were kids. Our parents were overprotective. One thing led to another. Things got blown out of proportion.”

“Out of proportion?” Marian’s lips parted as she shook her head at me. “Drayton, my parents ruined your life. I ruined your life.”