Page 26 of Her Ex's Father
“St. Moritz?” she guesses, like she’s been studying the industry.
“Zermatt,” I correct, but I’m impressed. “How’d you?—”
“High-altitude market’s been booming,” she says, as if she’s reading from a report. “If you pair it with seasonal exclusivity and a strong events schedule, you’ll draw your repeat luxury crowd and keep rooms full off-peak.”
I stare at her for a beat. “You’ve done your homework.”
She shrugs, but there’s pride in her eyes. “It’s my job. Or… it was.” The pride dims a bit at the reminder of just how little her family had valued her contribution to Crown & Range. Rupert and Gwen were idiots.
It’s also what Derrick could never do—see the big picture. The long game. I’d sent him to an expensive college, and he’d dropped one two semesters in. No drive, no passion, no interest aside from living as intensely as he could.
When the plates are nearly cleared, Maddie pushes her coffee aside. “Ben… last night?—”
“Was a mistake,” I finish. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t want you to think a physical relationship is a part of the contract. You aren’t obligated to… satisfy me.”
My eyes snap up and meet hers on that word:satisfy.The truth is, I can’t remember the last time I was so satisfied.
Her lashes flutter, but she nods. “We can’t do it again.”
I lean back in my chair. “Not until we figure out how and when to end this. Then you can marry Derrick, if that’s still what you want.”
She doesn’t answer. Just looks out the window again, jaw tight.
For the first time this morning, I can’t read her at all.
And that unsettles me more than anything else.
Chapter 9
Maddie
The SUV idles at the edge of the cobbled courtyard, exhaust curling into the cold air. My things—what’s left of them after being packed by people I didn’t hire—are piled in a moving truck behind us. Instead of flying, I decided to accompany my possessions on the 10-hour drive from Montana to Aspen; and my back and hips are regretting it.
Ben’s house looks like a luxury architect’s take on a lodge. All stone and log, weathered but solid, with big-paned windows reflecting the sweep of pine trees and distant peaks. The courtyard is wide and circular, a fountain in the middle still trickling despite the season, framed by planters dusted with frost.
It’s gorgeous. But it’s also isolated in an interesting way.
Instead of a paved driveway, the first half-mile was a dirt—or actually, mud thanks to the late spring weather—track. If it wasn’t for the driver Ben sent with me to Montana, I wouldn’t have ever found this place.
Which makes me wonder… doeshenot want to be found?
My hand hesitates on the door handle. I’m married to this man, yes, but I don’t want him to feel like I’m intruding on his life. On his solitude.
The ranch in Montana was sprawling and wild; this is quieter. The mountains here feel closer, like they’re leaning in to see who’s moved into the neighborhood. I catch a glimpse of the river through the pines, a silver thread weaving through just-new grass, and my chest tightens in a way I don’t expect. This isn’t home, but it feels… welcoming.
I step out of the mud-splattered SUV, boots clicking against the cobblestones. A tall, lean, dark man steps out of the home, with a friendly smile on his face. We’ve already met—back at Bronson Hall—and it’s nice to feel genuinely welcomed.
“Hugh,” I greet, trying my best not to be distracted by the beautiful façade of the building.
“Hello, Madeline. How was the drive?”
“Um, it was a lot,” I smile, biting my lip. “Actually… if it’s okay can I soak in a bath or shower for a bit? I think I pulled something.”
His laugh is deep and true. He gestures to the movers as they start to bring the smaller parcels up to the double doors.
“Living room’s through there. And yes, of course—there’s a full bath and separate shower in your suite. Are you hungry?”
I shake my head, giving up and staring in fascination at the large windows on the second floor. Hugh catches on quickly.
