The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

He lifted his chest, pushed his shoulders back, and power flared in his eyes. It was as close to a victory dance as my father got. “I’m sure something can be arranged. Between Royce’s house and my own, we are Sovereign’s biggest client.” He leaned forward, going in for the kill. “The Hale name should be all you need, but if you’d like me to speak to someone on your behalf and have her schedule cleared, I can accommodate.”

“That’s not necessary.” My voice was calm, not revealing how screwed I was. A full week with Emery at my side during each event and pretending to be my girlfriend was a recipe for disaster. But I was locked in now. If I backtracked, I’d lose, and it was win at all costs in my family.

Emery was unaware of the tension radiating from me. She set her other hand on my forearm, so she was hugging my arm to her body, and it diffused me in an instant. My focus swung to her, and I had to force the awareness of her hold from my mind.

“I’d love to go,” she said softly, “and I don’t think my work will have a problem with it.” She buried meaning in her words. “I can be convincing.”

My father stiffened. “Excellent. I’m sure Vance will enjoy your company.”

“Yes.” I clenched my teeth beneath my smile. I’d face temptation with every breath she took.

With that settled, the conversation lapsed, and I worried about the topic we’d move on to next. I didn’t want to talk about Jillian, or my feelings, or let my father corner me into setting up a time to meet with him. We’d been interrupted by the police before I’d been able to give him my blessing on marrying Sophia, and I’d successfully avoided being alone with him since.

It wasn’t that I didn’t approve. I liked Sophia well enough, and it was clear she was good for him. He’d been happier this last year, quicker to forgive or to find a smile. He was also better at communicating and trying to express his feelings . . . which filled me with dread. Emotion made me uncomfortable in general, and it seemed perilous to discuss feelings with him.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Emery said to my father and Sophia, “but do you mind if I borrow Vance for a moment?”

Relief coasted through me. I was grateful for the escape, and I didn’t protest when her hand slipped down into mine, lacing our fingers together. It was an innocent gesture, barely a display of affection, but electricity surged from our connection. Touching her, even in such an innocent way, was nice.

When was the last time I’d held a girl’s hand?

Fuck me. Had I ever done it?

We were already on the move when she whispered it to me. “Is there somewhere we can talk? Like, privately?”

“Yeah.” I gently tightened my grip, guiding her out into the hall.

The front of the marina clubhouse was filled with the offices and the pro shop, and behind them lay the restaurant. It was closed tonight due to the event going on in the ballroom, but I knew we could sneak in. It was a great place to hide out when you didn’t want to be around your parents, to hang with friends, or if you needed a secluded place to hook up with a girl.

The restaurant was dark except for the emergency exit sign, which cast an eerie glow on the empty chairs and tables. Emery had let go of my hand, followed me in through the door, and then gazed at the space with interest. I’d eaten here at least a hundred times and never paid much attention to the décor, but she strolled around the room like she wanted to take in the ambiance. The nautical theme was understated and nice.

Her roaming gaze finally settled on me, and she tilted her head. “So, boyfriend, how was the service?”

She was softly lit by the ambient light, and it exaggerated her perfect silhouette wrapped in black. She looked so goddamn appealing, it made me stupid. “Service?”

“Jillian’s memorial?” Her voice lost some of its power. “My name wasn’t on the list, so I couldn’t get in.”

Tightness squeezed my lungs. “If I’d accepted your offer last week, that wouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.” I smoothed a palm down the front of my tie like I could wipe away the regret inside me. “The service was fine.” I shook my head at my poor word choice. “It was nice,” I amended.

She looked pleased by that. “What changed your mind about my offer?”

I swallowed thickly. Whatever evidence Lambert had to use against me, there was at least a chance it was in his private safe. I couldn’t tell her about his attempt to blackmail me, because then she might ask with what, and I wasn’t ready to confess that to her.