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Ten sighed. “If we didn’t want Zara and Isabel involved, I’d have suggested Isabel talk to her. They're cousins after all.”

“No,” I said, because while I liked the suggestion, I wasn’t going to pull two other young women into an already complicated situation. “We need to keep them out of it.”

Ten nodded. “Agreed. In which case…” He gave me a very direct look. “Perhaps you need to try harder convincing Rowan to rethink things, though I don’t know if that’s an option. After all, Charlotte made very sure one of us had to do her bidding, and I don’t think she’d pull her claws simply because Rowan’s her granddaughter.”

That was, unfortunately, true. I wasn’t sure what Charlotte would do if I got Rowan to change her mind. Bring the evidence she had on Ten about Sir George’s death to the attention of the police, probably.

“I really would kidnap her if I didn’t think Charlotte would go to the cops or maybe do something to Rowan’s mother, make things hard for her somehow,” I said. “I don’t want to put Rowan through that either.”

“Well.” Ten’s voice was meditative. “The one thing you do have is that once you’re married, you’re legally bound to her and she to you. As her husband, you can better look out for her, don’t you think?”

“The marriage is supposed to be a formality,” I pointed out. “And I’m pretty sure Rowan isn’t going to want to have anything to do with me after it.”

“Still, that won’t stop you from making sure she’s protected.”

I thought about it, something solidifying in my brain.

Ten was right. As Rowan’s husband I’d be well placed to keep her away from Charlotte, plus she’d have less of an excuse for refusing my monetary help if she was my wife. She wouldn’t see it that way, but I’m sure I could, as Ten had said, make her ‘see reason’. After all, I owed it to her. I’d walked out on her and Cait all those years ago, leaving them to drown, and now it was time I made up for that mistake by saving them.

“You know, Ten,” I said slowly. “Sometimes you actually talk sense.”

“My advice has been known to help on the odd occasion.” He bent and picked up the discarded ball, lazily tossing it in one hand. “Another game?”

This time it was my turn to raise a brow. “Glutton for punishment?”

“No. I just decided it’s time to start playing properly.”

Grinning, I got rid of the towel, dumping it back on the bench. “Asshole.”

Ten smiled, tossed the ball and served.

11

Rowan

I sat in the Uber as it pulled up outside the TriBeCa address Charlotte had given me, my heart racing, my stomach a ball of nerves.

Today was the wedding day. My wedding day.

I’d been told to arrive at the address at least an hour before the ceremony to take care of any ‘formalities’, though what constituted ‘formalities’ wasn’t explained. So here I was, an hour before the ceremony.

Since that lunch at La Chouette — I refused to think about what had happened in the middle of it, in that bathroom — I’d received Charlotte’s contract. Atlas had sent me a message offering to get someone neutral to vet it for me, but I’d refused. There was no way I was accepting help from him, so I’d paid for my own lawyer to look it over.

All was in order so I signed it and sent it back. I knew I was going to have to tell my mother something eventually — when I got pregnant for example — but I’d tell her it was the result of a one-night-stand or something, and that I’d give it up for adoption. She didn’t need to know that the baby would be her ex-husband’s or that I’d married him.

The Uber driver glanced back at me, probably wondering why I hadn’t gotten out yet, so I took a silent breath, opened the door, stepped onto the sidewalk, and looked up at the huge red brick building in front of me.

It had obviously once been a factory, as evidenced by the faded lettering on the bricks, as well as the huge windows. Now, though, it had been turned into one giant industrial loft. Atlas’s loft.

I swallowed, trying to ignore my nerves. He was the one who’d told me that I come early to deal with the ‘formalities’. Charlotte had already informed me that he’d insisted on the ceremony being conducted at his home and since she hadn’t seen any reason why not, had agreed. I could have given her several reasons why not, but that would have been putting too much importance on what had happened between him and me in that bathroom so I hadn’t protested.

I hadn’t protested him wanting me to come early, either, because I didn’t want to give away how our meeting the previous week had disturbed me. How it had rattled me on a level I couldn’t begin to contemplate.

He wants you. You felt it. You saw it in his eyes.

A current of heat wound through me, heating my skin, the memory of him looking down at me, so intense, so demanding, stark in my head. God, the things that look could make me do….

I shoved that thought quickly back into the box it had sprung from. No, nothing like that would ever happen again, I’d make sure of it. I was not going to make my mother’s mistakes and get with obsessed with a man, I just wasn’t.

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