Page 41 of The SEAL's Duchess
She fumbled with George’s rental car keys, the metal biting into her palm.
Stop wanting what you can’t have.
The drive back to the hotel passed in a blur of swirling snow and second-guessing. By the time she reached her room, her phone was already ringing on the bedside table as she tugged off her damp boots.
George’s name lit the screen.
What now?
He wouldn’t call unless something had shifted, and whatever it was wouldn’t be small.
She hesitated, thumb hovering over the glass. For a foolish second, she wanted to ignore it, pretend nothing was about to unravel. But the damn device kept pulsing, insistent.
She answered.
“Ives. London’s called an emergency session. Offshore regs. We both have to be on this call.”
Of course.The type of meeting no one missed. The kind that would drag her back to the life she was trying not to drown in.
She closed her eyes, took a breath. “We have dinner with Sarah Meyer tonight, George.”
Icy panic spread through her chest. George was her buffer. Without him, she’d be exposed.
“I know. But you need to cancel, Ives.”
She glanced at her watch. Six pm. She didn’t want to let Ryder’s sister down at the last minute. Didn’t want to let his family down. They mattered. “It’s too late for that.”
“You could plead off—say you’re under the weather.”
“No, George. I’m not canceling.” She blew out a breath, one hand on her forehead. “You’re going to have to do this one on your own. We can discuss it tomorrow morning.”
She still hadn’t mentioned what Jack had given her. She’d looked at it briefly, but Jack had been right. They needed a geologist to make sense of it, and she didn’t want to worry George before she had real answers.
Silence. Then a sigh. “I do ask too much of you, don’t I?”
Her laugh was shaky. “I think I’m my own worst enemy. But you’ll be fine. You’re stronger than you think.”
“Okay then.” He cleared his throat. “I am the Duke of Lambourne after all.”
“I love you, George.”
His voice softened. “Love you too, sis. We’ll talk at breakfast.”
She ended the call with her hands still trembling. She could hide in the hotel, invent an excuse, but the thought of ducking out was far worse than the thought of going. Canceling would be easy. Too easy. Which left only one choice.
Face the Meyers alone.
An hour later,she stood in front of the hotel room’s full-length mirror, surrounded by every piece of clothing she’d brought to Alaska. Sweaters, blouses, and dresses lay scattered across the bed, casualties of her indecision. She hated how much she cared about what to wear, the way she imagined Ryder’s reaction as she tried on every item.
She finally settled on dark jeans that fit well and a silk blouse in dusty blue that brought out the color of her eyes.
Casual.
Respectful.
But the lie felt transparent.
What she really wanted was to be beautiful—for him, to see his eyes change when he looked at her. She pressed her palms to her thighs, smoothing nothing.
