CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I knew the moment she walked through the door something was different. I saw her before she saw me. Her dark eyes fell on me, and I looked away. Forlornly, she turned and moved to the bar, lowering her eyes even when the bartender took her order.

Something was wrong.

I watched her, pretending I gave a fuck what Vincent was saying. God, she was devastatingly beautiful. She pivoted, and my scalp prickled as her eyes fell on me as I glanced away. I couldn’t keep staring at her, or Vincent would notice. But I felt her, as acutely as her warm fingers and sharp little nails had dragged down my back the other night.

I glanced over for a second, and her eyes darted away.

“Excuse me,” I said, dipping my head. “I just need to check something.”

Vincent nodded. “I’ll see you around. We’re having cigars out on the porch later; you should join us.”

“I’ll be there,” I promised distractedly, barely hearing him.

He melted away as everyone did. The entire room was a blur, and she stood at the center, in high definition. My feet moved without me realizing it. I drew up beside her at the bar, and she kept her face straight ahead, but she saw me. I felt the tremor of recognition.

“When did you get in?” I asked.

“Earlier,” she said, her voice hoarse.

I assessed her, distracted by what she was wearing. It wasn’t very Circe-like—she usually stuck to pastels, classy little skirts that hit her right at the knee and covered her figure.

This dress showed everything: her long, lean legs dusted with glitter, the outline of her breasts, the faint suggestion of her lace bra beneath. Her hair was pinned in a messy pile with her curtain bangs falling over her face. But the strangest thing of all was the deep red lipstick.

She glanced up, lashes heavy. Right away, I felt her energy, and it was chaotic. She’d been crying.

I eased closer, my hand sliding up against her waist. She dipped her chin.

“Don’t touch me in public,” she whispered.

Ignoring her, I leaned in. “What’s wrong? Who do I need to kill?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced up, biting her lip.

“No one,” she said. “My dad is fucking my best friend. But it’s fine, it doesn’t even matter. I’m moving out anyway.”

It took everything I had to keep my face blank.

“Who? The little blonde one?”

She rolled her eyes, wiping her nose. “Delaney. You know who she is. You’re best friends with Yale.”

My mind went into overdrive. This wasn’t good—Merrick had been counting on arranging a match between Delaney and Trystan, who ran the Wyoming Project. Trystan had always had an interest in Delaney, and she was Yale’s sister, which made her practically royalty in our world.

I ran a hand over my face. “Fuck.”

She turned, brow arced. “Trystan’s going to have to find someone else.”

“Merrick won’t be happy,” I said.

She shook her head, downing the rest of her cocktail. “I’m horny. Can you fuck me in the closet or something?”

I gazed down at her, a little ache in my chest. She was in so much pain. Her beautiful dark eyes were puffy, and I could tell she’d been biting her mouth. Maybe making her feel good for a few minutes would help her pull it together, but I didn’t want that.

I wanted to walk up to her father tomorrow morning when he arrived at the hotel and knock him the fuck out for making her cry.

But that wasn’t my place. Yet, anyway.

“What if I just took you upstairs and we talked?” I said.

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about. My dad and my best friend have been sleeping together for a year, and they lied about it. That hurts, and it’s going to hurt for a while. But I don’t have a leg to stand on, because I’m fucking you and lying about it to everyone.”

“It’s different,” I said.

That wasn’t true, though. I wasn’t a stranger in the way that Delaney wasn’t just some random woman. We were all connected by complex threads. Did she know how complicated our relationship really was? Part of me wondered if she knew deep down that I was Merrick’s son. She had to at least suspect it.

But I couldn’t ask her, because then she would know for certain.

I wanted deep down to just say fuck it. Maybe it was time to let the world know who I was.

“Caden.”

I blinked, looking down into her pleading face. “What is it, butterfly?”

Her lower lips trembled. “Take me somewhere. I can’t do this tonight.”

God, I wanted to hold her, but not here, where we would be seen.

“Do what tonight?”

“Raine Forge and the mission,” she said, voice shaking. “Can that please wait until tomorrow? I’m just…a mess.”

I set her empty glass aside. “Come with me.”

She held out her hand, and I took it, holding her to my side as I slipped out the side exit to the back hallway. Our hands came together, her fingers weaving trustingly in mine.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Just out. Nobody has to know.”

She was quiet as I guided her downstairs and out the side door. In the far lot, I’d parked my Kawasaki in one of the garages. I led the way and pulled my helmet down from the wall.

“I’m wearing heels,” she protested.

“All you have to do is hold onto me.” I dropped to one knee and unstrapped her heels, helping her out. They were delicate and beautiful, but there was something about seeing her bare feet that I liked more. The paint on her toenails was white, and she wore a thin silver anklet.

My dick twitched as my hand slid up her leg and pressed between her thighs.

Her eyes widened as she glanced over her shoulder. “This is a bit…open.”

My fingertips trailed up. Her thighs tensed, but she didn’t close them.

“Are you wearing panties?” I asked. “You’ll have to ride behind me, so your dress will push up.”

Her throat bobbed, and she nodded once. I rose and dropped her heels by the wall. She held still while I strapped the helmet on her and helped her mount the Kawasaki behind me. Her arms wrapped around my body and her cheek pressed warm against my back.

She started to speak, but I revved the Kawasaki and pulled into the lot. Inside the hotel, the windows glowed gold. The garden glittered, and the ocean roared softly in the background. The night was warm, the air thick with humidity and salt.

I pulled onto the road that ran up the coast. It was almost empty, so there was room to floor the gas. I heard her little gasp as we crested the hill and the dark cliffs lay stretched out below the curved road. We rose higher and higher, and I felt her fingers dig deep into my chest.

Holding me the way I wanted.

Part of me just wanted to keep driving, to disappear to another part of the world where no one could find us and never return. We could vanish and spend the rest of our lives in bed, on a tropical island somewhere.

But the part of me that had been honed by Merrick to see potential threats buzzed. Something else had happened since the night I spent in her bed. I had to find out what had happened.

She was listless and jumpy. She thought she was covering it, but I could feel the way her pulse picked up. Her eyes flitted over me, and a little bit of guilt passed through them.

She was keeping secrets.

But I was good at finding out secrets, almost as good as I was at keeping them, and I’d concealed who Merrick was to me for over a decade.

The ocean fell away beneath us as the road moved in a slow circle, bringing us higher into the cliffs. She held me tight, but I no longer knew what that meant for us come tomorrow. What any of this meant.

Time blurred.

We moved down the other side of the mountain until we got to my destination. It was one of Merrick’s hotel sights, where the construction had been put on hold because of a disruption in the supply chain. The ground had been leveled, the stone walls and foundation laid down.

It looked like the remains of a temple.

I pulled the Kawasaki off the road and behind a cluster of bushes. She got to her bare feet, staying quiet as I unhooked her helmet. Her dark hair fell free, rippling down her back.

“Where are we?” she asked hoarsely.

“Hotel construction site.” I hung my helmet on the handlebars and held out my hand. “Come on, butterfly.”

The ocean rushed in the distance. We moved up the dirt path, and I helped her up the wooden stairs that led to the foundation of the porch. Here, the stone ground was smooth concrete. The walls hadn’t been put up, and there was nothing but stone pillars surrounding us.

The view was breathtaking.

The ocean stretched out like dark velvet, the stars glittering through the sparse clouds.

She inhaled, sinking down to her knees, sitting back on her ankles. I knelt beside her, soaking in the view. When I glanced back over, there was a single tear falling down her cheek.

“Circe,” I said. “Talk to me.”

She shook her head, gasping once. “It’s stupid.”

“So what? There’s no one to hear but me.”

She shifted, hiking her skirt up so she could cross her bare legs. I sank down beside her, keeping one hand on her naked thigh. She wiped her nose with the heel of her hand.

“Did you know that the temple at Ephesus was for Artemis?” she asked. “Not Aphrodite.”

It surprised me that she’d cared enough to look that up. I dropped my head, wishing for the first time that I’d kept my fantasies to myself.

I wanted to be tucked into a pocket of time and space that had never existed, to stay there with someone who didn’t cast judgment, someone as sweet and gentle as Circe.

Yes, I’d dreamed of standing in a temple to Aphrodite in the cool morning, but that wasn’t enough anymore. Circe had changed that; she’d made me brave enough to realize I wanted more than just a fantasy.

I cleared my throat. “Yes, I knew it wasn’t a temple to Aphrodite.”

“What did you mean by that?” Her voice broke.

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts.

“It was a place without the past, early in the morning,” I managed, keeping my voice steady. “I was…the way I could have been if things had been different. And…also because consecrating a sexual relationship is Aphrodite’s territory.”

Everything felt heavier after the words left my mouth.

Her lower lip trembled. “Caden, is there something you’d like to say?”

I rose, unfurling my body, and moved to the edge of the stone slab. Down below, the ocean rushed over the sand, pulling back and leaving it flecked with foam.

Deep down, I knew I had to tell her the truth, and now was as good a time as any.

“I’m the Brenin’s son,” I said quietly. “Merrick is my father.”

She was silent, but I heard her feet pad across the ground. Then, her soft hand slid over my lower back, and she rested her cheek against my bicep.

“I know,” she whispered.

I turned. “That’s what you fought about with your father. He knows you’re fucking his rival’s son.”

She nodded, eyes glittering. “He knows.”

Her head was on my chest, her hands on my stomach. I wrapped my arm around her body and buried my hand in her hair. I could smell her floral perfume, mingled with the salty ocean. Bending, I buried my face in her hair, and she sighed, sinking into me.

“I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, Caden,” she said softly.

“I know,” I whispered. “I wasn’t supposed to fall for you either.”

We stood, wrapped up in each other, for a long time.