Page 32 of Beautiful Revenge
I gaze across the table at the woman who’s been ground zero for everything I’ve had to deal with in the past week. “You’ve turned out to be a drama magnet. I’m not sure what to think about that.”
“As much as I hate it, I can’t argue. But since you offered me a room when I really needed it, I can’t stress enough that I’m normally low key.”
“They call you the American Princess. That doesn’t scream low key.” She’s about to argue that point, too, but I lean forward and rest my forearms on the table and keep talking. “Can I be honest with you?”
She studies me. “Do you have something to be dishonest about?”
I shake my head. “There’s a big difference between withholding information and dishonesty. I’ll never lie to you. But sometimes dealing with the blatant truth is hard. I’m curious if you can handle it.”
She glances around like she’s being punked before settling her dark brown eyes back on me. “Why do I not like the sound of that?”
“Because most of the time the dead-honest truth is harder than being left in the dark.”
“Dead-honest truth,” she echoes. “That hits a little close to home, Devon.”
I’d have to agree, especially after what I learned today. “I have a feeling you can handle it.”
Her eyes fall shut, and she shakes her head. “I’m so sick of lies, but I’m also topped out on how much truth I can handle.”
I don’t let up. In fact, I press harder. “Do you trust me?”
The most unamusing laugh bursts from her lungs. “I moved into your suite. There’s a lock on my bedroom door, but you’re a brute of a man. I’m willing to bet you could burst through brick walls if you wanted to. I’m desperate to stay in Winslet, which means I’m desperate enough to trust you.”
I push to my feet. “Come for a walk with me.”
She looks from me to the windows. Darkness has set over the landscape, and the stars are starting to shine. Her gaze returns to me. “Now?”
“Now,” I confirm. “I like to walk the grounds at night. That is, when there aren’t rehearsal dinners or consolation receptions going on.”
Her dark eyes narrow. “You’re asking me to trust you and walk around in the dark with you? That’s a lot, Devon.”
“You pretty much begged to stay in my suite, but you won’t take a walk with me?”
She mulls that over but never breaks her stare. It’s like I threw a dare at her feet, but it turns out I was right. Without looking away, she stands gracefully, drapes her sweater over her shoulders, and tucks her purse under her arm. “Since I have decided to embrace carbs now that I don’t have a wedding dress to fit into, a walk after dinnerwould be nice.”
I feel the corner of my lips tip north—something that’s rare for me in general but has happened around this woman more than once. “I was right about you.”
She stares up at me from where she stands in a pair of flat sandals. “I can promise you, whatever you thought about me, you’re wrong.”
“We’ll see about that. I have a feeling you and I are about to learn a lot about each other ...roomie.”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, but she says nothing since her cell diverts her attention.
“What is it?” I ask.
She shakes her head and sends the call to voicemail. “It’s the rat bastard. Thebloodyrat bastard. He’s relentless. Even more so since I keep sending him to voicemail.”
“Right where he deserves to be.” I step to the side and hold my hand out low for her to lead. She might not be a true royal, but she steels her spine and walks like one. And only when we make it to the atrium do I allow my eyes to wander.
What I’d really like to tell Harlow is that carbs look good on her, and I’m pleased as fuck that she refuses to speak to the man she left waiting at the altar.
CHAPTER NINE
DRIED-UP AND CREEPY
Harlow
The silence lingering between us in the dark night is downright painful after his talk of truths and avoidances. The only things cutting through the crisp air are the sounds of nature. The forest is alive with bugs, the breeze tickles the leaves, and the water licks the shore. It should be soothing, but the imposing presence of the man next to me proves his aura wins out over Mother Nature.
