Page 213 of Burning Daylight
“It wasn’t you? I know it wasn’t you, but Bevie said he died and?—”
“Beverly lied to you, Juliette. For years, actually.”
My heart pounds, and as much as I want to rage against what he’s saying, as much as I want to pretend like that isn’t the case, I know that it is.
“That’s not even her real name. It’s Cassandra Troy.”
Honestly, it doesn’t hurt as viscerally as I expect. Maybe so much has just happened, that I’m numb.
“Are you sure she wasn’t tricked?” I ask. “Bevie waseverythingto me growing up.”
He strokes my hair again. “If they find her, then I promise I’ll make sure you can ask her yourself.”
She’s gone. Of course she is.
He smiles softly, leaning in and brushing a kiss against my lips. “Do you think Felicity will kill me if I let you ride my dick real quick?”
My mouth drops open. “Roman!”
He shrugs, looking anything but sorry. “You’re alive. I’m alive. The last forty-eight hours of my life have been a huge wake-up call. I think we both deserve a little pleasure.”
“I’m hooked up to a heart monitor,” I deadpan.
“Exactly.” He nods. “Now you can’t hide how easily I make your pulse race.”
“You are soannoying.”
He grins, catching my wrist when I reach out to smack his shoulder. “And you love me.”
“Kiss me, Trouble.”
Grinning, he leans down and presses his lips to mine. I tilt my head, but before either of us can fall too far into it, the door creaks again and familiar voices come barreling through.
“Well, is she alive or what?”
That sounds like Alex.
“Thank the lord,” Felicity banters back. “I swear, if I had to listen to Paxton pace one more time…”
“She was almostmurdered, Flick.”
Paxton, obviously.
“Oh my God,” she complains. “Don’t make it sound likeI’mthe villain. Out of all of us, I’m the one who will end up hand-feeding her ice chips and defending her honor.”
They all stumble into the room mid-argument, followed by Lance, who doesn’t say anything.
He just stops and his eyes lock on mine.
And for a second, all of the noise dulls.
His posture’s tense, and his expression is as broody and tortured as ever, but I see the crack in his mask.
“She’s clearly alive,” Lance mutters, his voice breaking slightly over the words. “You can tell by the sarcasm already leaking out of her pores.”
My heart falters and my stomach tangles.
“Good to see you, too,” I say, trying to sound as dry as he makes me seem.
