The Obsession (Filthy Rich Americans 2)

“Were you lying when you told your father it was just sex between us?”

The irritation was replaced with relief. “Yes.”

I went in for the kill. “Then what is it?”

His eyes heated, cutting through the cold rain. “More.”

“More, what?” I demanded.

He didn’t falter or hesitate. His hands slid up my back, preventing me from running as he leaned down. He brought his lips right to mine, and they brushed over my mouth as he spoke. “More. A lot more.”

“Don’t,” I warned, although my traitorous insides wanted to melt at his featherlight kisses. He didn’t have any right to kiss me, and I tried to pull away. “You traded me away. I’m not yours anymore.”

His jaw set, and his expression hardened. “You belong with me. I knew it from the moment I saw you laughing at that bar all those years ago. You’re always going to be mine, Marist.” He jammed a hand into my sopping hair and yanked me to his lips. “Whether you want to believe it or not.”

And then he slammed his mouth over mine, sealing up my ability to make any kind of protest.

His kiss scalded. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, it singed my bones, and I turned pliant beneath him. The best lies he told with his lips were the ones where he didn’t use words. I was thankful for the noisy raindrops pelting the trees and pebbled path because it drowned out the sound of the sob welling in my throat.

This was too hard, too much.

I broke off the kiss, lifted my hand, and struck him across the cheek with a crack loud enough to be heard over the rain. The force of my slap turned his head away from me, and for a long moment he stared off, considering what had just happened.

Or maybe the full force of what he’d done was finally sinking in. How he’d changed things between us forever. He turned slowly back to me with embarrassment lurking in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He nodded toward the house. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

The fastest way out of this maze was with someone who knew all its secrets.

I crossed my arms over my chest to hold in my heat as he bent down and retrieved the umbrella. He swung it over our heads as I wiped the rain from my face, and my gaze traced the framework beneath the black fabric.

“You’re holding a metal pole in a lightning storm,” I said.

The corner of his mouth twitched, but it was gone a moment later. We were already alone in the maze, but being tucked together under the safety of the umbrella felt . . . intimate. Like we were hidden from the entire world.

“Assuming we survive the walk back,” he said, “the first thing we need to do is put a lock on your door.”

I kept my tone dry. “Afraid you won’t be able to stay away?”

Royce’s expression was haunting and deadly serious. “It’s not me I’m worried about keeping out.”

Oh, my God.

THREE

I BARELY SLEPT MY FIRST NIGHT in the Hale house. It didn’t matter that the king-sized bed was comfortable or that the sheets were soft. The detergent on the linens was pleasant but unfamiliar. Even with the curtains drawn, shadows seemed to move in unexpected ways in the cavernous room. Every foreign sound echoed and jolted me awake, and my gaze shot to the doorknob.

Thankfully, it never turned. Maybe Royce had exaggerated and there wasn’t any danger of Macalister coming into my room. Perhaps he’d put the fear in my head as a power move.

When sleep finally came, it wasn’t restful. The new room didn’t smell like my home, and it certainly didn’t feel like it either. Would it ever?

I stayed hidden in bed until the Hales left for work and the house went quiet. With them gone, I could finally think. The most effective way to derail Royce’s life was to figure out exactly what he was planning. I thought I’d have the day to explore the house on my own, but my phone buzzed with a text message. Alice, Royce’s stepmother, would be sending a car this morning, and she had several appointments set up for me.

Once I’d been whisked to Boston, I met her and a potential wedding planner for lunch. And when that was done, I was delivered to Alice’s personal shopper with a long list of occasions I needed to be styled for.

There were fundraisers and charity galas. Golf outings, and regattas, and a whole slew of events I would be expected to attend with Royce. His schedule had been synced with my calendar, and I’d been warned this was only the beginning. More parties and events were coming.

The first one on Alice’s list was dinner tonight, because once a week the Hales shared a meal together. So, this evening I’d sit beside my fiancé and be officially welcomed into the family.