The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

“No,” I said quickly. “I don’t think so.” I frowned. “It’s complicated.”

It didn’t seem like he’d been paying attention, but I should have known better. My father was so observant. His icy blue eyes turned toward me.

“Do you love her?”

It was a simple question, but my mind went blank at hearing it come from him. He’d been emotionally shut off and avoided talking about feelings after my mother died, but Sophia had reactivated that part of him. I still wasn’t used to this new, old version of him.

He’d asked if I loved her, and my voice was strong and sure. “Yes.”

He considered it for a moment, probably crafting all the ways he saw this as a failure or how Emery was unworthy of me, but his expression remained thoughtful, not critical. “Then it’s not complicated,” he said. “You’re a Hale, so you win at all costs, and that includes her heart.”

I nearly fell out of my chair. Where was the lecture about how this didn’t fit into the plan he had for me? He was the last person I expected to get unsolicited advice from regarding my love life.

Sophia’s smile was pleased as she gazed up at him, and he returned the same look, full of love and a smile hinting at the corners of his mouth.

Her focus turned back to me. “Does she love you?”

This conversation was weird and uncomfortable, and I put my hand on the back of my neck, massaging the tired muscles there. “Yeah. She does.”

“So, what’s the issue?”

I lifted my hand, signaling it was difficult to explain. “I don’t know.” But that was a lie. I knew exactly what the problem was. “I have a hard time trusting people.”

I didn’t miss the way she glanced at my father, and she wasn’t wrong to assume he was mostly to blame for that. But she must not have known about the file her fiancé had collected on Emery because her question was straightforward. “Has she given you a reason not to trust her?”

“Yes,” a familiar voice came from behind me. “But I found a way to fix that.”

I turned to see Emery standing a few feet away. Her hair was pulled up in a haphazard ponytail, and she wore leggings and a t-shirt. Gone were her provocative clothes and sexy makeup. She looked weary, but her eyes shimmered when she saw me, and my heart swelled. It propelled me up out of my chair.

“What are you doing here?”

“I went to the house, and Elliot told me Marist went into labor. He said everyone was at the hospital.”

She glanced past me to my father, and I could tell what she was thinking. She was embarrassed about how she looked, but that was unnecessary. She looked amazing to me no matter what.

She jerked her head toward an empty corner of the waiting room. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, of course.” I took her elbow and guided her toward it, using that as an excuse to touch her. As soon as my fingers grazed her skin, warmth spread through my body.

“Sorry I look like hell,” she said as soon as we were out of earshot. “I’m running on four hours of sleep and wearing clothes from yesterday.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I came straight from the airport. I took a redeye to Miami last night.”

Confusion hit me. “What’s in Miami?”

“A six-a.m. flight to Aruba.”

Holy shit. My voice dropped to a whisper. “You went to see Jillian?”

“I did. After I left your place yesterday, I started thinking about Lambert’s deal. He escalated so quickly, and it felt . . . off. Like he was trying to distract by separating us. It made me wonder if we’d missed something. So, since she’d also seen what was inside his safe, I went to see her.”

I pulled in a slow breath as I realized what a fucking idiot I’d been. I should have gone with her. Hell, we could have taken my family’s jet or chartered a private plane. We were supposed to be partners, and I’d made her go it alone.

“How was she?” I asked.

Emery’s smile was quick, but it lit her eyes. “She’s doing good. They’re really happy together.”

She grabbed my hand, pulled me down so we could sit in the chairs nearby, and then told me the whole story, how Jillian and Lucas were in love and had been planning for months to run away together. He’d helped her buy a new identity, train for the long open water swim, and then faked the fight to make sure no one suspected them.

When Jillian saw the prenup already signed by Ansel, she freaked out. There was a storm rolling in the next night, so they moved up the timetable. She said goodbye to Tiffany, set sail, and when The Trident was far enough out, she’d put on a wetsuit, left everything behind, and jumped.