Page 44 of The Heiress

“It’s about conforming more than replacing, I think.”

That gave me pause. “How is that better?”

Jace cocked his head to the side. “Sometimes conforming is about,” he waved his other hand through the air, his eyes unfocusing as he searched for the right word, “it’s about unity and teamwork.”

“Unity? With myclothes?”

He winced. “Well yeah. What do you think we’re doing when we wear our colors? When they brand the club logo right into our skin? It’s conforming, yes, but everyone knows who Devil’s Wrath is. They see our devil and they think twice about where they are and what they’re doing. The cut I wear, the bike I ride, they all signify the brotherhood I belong to. Maybe your designer dress is kind of the same thing.”

I was just about to tell him his theory was nuts, but he was right. Georgia was dressing me for the part. The shoes, the dresses, the purses, they weren’t just frivolous gifts from a mother to a daughter. They were a uniform. These clothes signified to anyone who saw me that I belonged with the super rich. That I was a Roark and a Stroman.

And if the clothes were like Jace’s leather and jeans, the Rolls Royce was the Roark equivalent of a Harley.

It all made sense...including another mystery I’d been trying to figure out. “Jace?” I waited to have his full attention again. “What if it’s more than just the clothes?”

He didn’t like that. His eyes hardened. “What do you mean?”

“Roark. The name has taken over everything even though Georgia is a Stroman. It’s one of the oldest and most famous names in this country. You say Stroman and people immediately think rich. But they erased it from the company. Everything is Roark now.”

“Like getting patched over by another club.” His jaw flexed.

“Even me. My name. If I go away I get to keep my name. If I stay—”

“Roark has to be somewhere.”

I nodded. The similarities between our worlds were eerie. Which only made me feel terrible because if all those years ago Jace felt like I do now, like he was faced with an impossible choice, then what I did to him was worse than I imagined.

16

We made out until the yacht docked at the Roark private slip. It was so dark that Dombrowski didn’t make us wear sunglasses but he did insist I put the hat back on before whisking us from the boat to the car. The drive only took moments and then we were inside the garage, away from any prying eyes.

Someone took our bags, someone else assured me our rooms had been restocked and turned down for the night. Jace held my hand as we made our way up the big stairs. When we got to my door I didn’t want to let him go.

“Today has been amazing.”

His arm wound around my waist as he kissed me again. “I think I should be thankingyou.”

How long? How long had Jace hoped we’d wind up here? “When did you know you had feelings for me?”

He grew very still and his gaze darkened. “I don’t want to talk about this yet.”

So a long time. At least since the funeral. Hazel was right all along. She saw it and I didn’t. “Stay with me tonight.”

I felt his whole body go rigid. “Sam...I…”

When I said it, I didn’t know what I meant, only that I didn’t want him to leave. But hearing the desperation in his voice, the conflict, I knew exactly what we needed. “Just sleep. I don’t want to be alone.”

“There are no monsters under your bed.”

No. But maybe we were the monsters and we just didn’t know it yet. “I’m safer with you.”

He swore under his breath. “Is this what I’m in store for? Using my emotions to manipulate me?”

“Is it working?”

He pointed at my door with his chin. “Open the damn thing already.”

After a few awkward minutes of trying to figure out how to make it work, Jace went back to his room to change while I hurried through my evening routine and into a pair of decidedly unsexy pajamas. It was better this way. Jace wasn’t ready and I probably wasn’t either. It was just the rush of new feelings and the high of pheromones. We’d sleep in the same bed, get used to the idea we were more than friends now.

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