The Deception (Filthy Rich Americans 3)

It was the weird, outspoken Marist Northcott who was the ‘other’ at Cape Hill Prep.

But today on this plane, I didn’t feel like an ‘other.’ I’d seen behind the curtain of the Hales, whereas Tate was blissfully ignorant. What were Royce’s motivations for inviting him along? Surely, he wasn’t going to talk Ascension with his father in earshot. Maybe he’d done it to prevent Macalister from doing so. His father wouldn’t discuss a takeover when one of the target company’s employees was in the same room.

After the plane had leveled off, Macalister appeared at the doorway, and his cold gaze zeroed in on Royce’s hand tangled with mine.

“Marist,” he said, “after we’ve arrived, Alice and I would like a word”—his eyes flicked to Tate—“in private.”

My mouth dropped open, but before I could say anything, Royce’s hand squeezed mine. “Sorry, the three of us have plans.”

Tate was in a rear-facing seat, which meant Macalister couldn’t see the confusion drift through his expression. If we had plans with him, it was news to Tate, but he said nothing.

The information unraveled in my brain. This was why Royce had invited Tate. He’d anticipated an ambush by his father and brought his friend along to foil Macalister’s plans. Alice couldn’t deliver a personal apology while someone outside the family was around.

Royce had done it to save me, and I was grateful.

But Macalister wasn’t going to give up easily. He turned his attention from his son to me and issued it like it was nonnegotiable. “It will only take a few minutes.”

I gave him a flat smile that didn’t touch my eyes, hoping he would understand my meaning. “Of course. When I’m ready.”

Satisfied, he turned and went back to his seat.

There was already a fire going in the fireplace when I followed Royce into the bedroom, and it wasn’t the altitude that took my breath away—it was the view. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed off the Rocky Mountains in glorious splendor. We were surrounded by white peaks, which gave way to dense evergreens, some with ski runs channeling through them, and below the orange-yellow glow of Aspen in early evening.

“We’re the highest house on this mountain,” Royce said. “No one is allowed to build above us.”

Even the balcony off the bedroom was surrounded with glass railings so as not to obstruct the view. “It’s stunning.” I turned to face him and found him staring at the king-sized bed. “What’s wrong?”

He lifted his blue eyes to meet mine, and determination crystalized in them. “I’m not going to tell you where the guest bedrooms are. This is our room.”

My heartbeat quickened. I strived for a teasing tone, but now he was the thing leaving me breathless. “I’m smart. I’ll probably find them.”

“No, you won’t. I’ve decided we’re not leaving Aspen until we have our sleeping arrangements sorted out.”

I swallowed thickly as he made his steady approach. “Are you saying I’m not allowed to escape anymore?”

He slipped his arms around me, picked me up, and dumped me on my back on the soft bed. He loomed over me, his handsome face full of desire and something that looked dangerously like love. “No, you’re not.” His hands went to his belt and worked to undo it. “And right now, I’m going to give you a good reason to stay.”

“Oh?” I purred.

“Yeah.” He looked quite amused with himself. “A big one.”

I laughed but made a production out of rolling my eyes, pretending his cocky statement had fallen flat. I didn’t want him to see how much he affected me, even though he probably already knew. His deep eyes slipped right past any shields I tried to put up.

He smoothed his hands up my leggings, reaching beneath the sweater dress I wore to start pulling them off. “But, seriously, I have an offer.”

I feigned a serious face as I lifted my hips, making it easier for him to drag the leggings and my underwear off. “I’m listening.”

He dropped the fabric to the floor and stepped between my parted legs, his hand working himself over. Just a few quick strokes, and he was impossibly hard. “You asked me to make love to you. I think I’m ready to try it.”

The muscles low in my belly clenched. “Now?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in an impish grin. “No. Right now, I just want to get inside you. I’m so fucking horny I can barely see straight. You make me crazy.”

“Same, Royce,” I fake scolded. So, fucking, same.

He licked the pad of his thumb, which looked so indecent it should have been illegal, and pressed it to my clit, brushing tiny, slow circles. My toes curled into points behind his back.

“So, the deal is this. We make love? You have to stay in our bed.”

My heart jerked to a stop then lurched forward with excitement. I liked his offer very much, and there was no need to counter.