Stolen Soulmate (Crowne Point 2) - Page 15

Shit.

I dropped her wrist and stepped back.

Bad idea.

Terrible.

But…I dragged a thumb across my lip, thinking. My virginity had always been a fucking anchor, another piece of me everyone wants to steal and sell. But with her? No one would get that piece.

Because I’d own her.

I exhaled. “I guess someone like you has nothing else to offer.” Her eyes flashed, but before she could say anything, I cut her off. “Sure, whatever, Snitch. I’ll take the cherry no one else wants.”

Five

STORY

* * *

I woke to the sound of muffled voices. I rubbed my head, not quite registering where I was at first. It was like a bad dream. Above me, a three-tiered chandelier glittered in the hazy yellow morning light. Its tapered crystals both modern and gothic.

Then it hit me.

The kiss.

Our deal.

I was insurance to a plan I wasn’t sure I could pull off. Maids talked, yeah, but I’d never tried to use gossip as leverage before. If I failed…

What would sex with Grayson Crowne be like?

The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done, would wreck you.

I rolled my head, meeting the messy black sheets of Grayson’s empty bed. When I’d gone to sleep, Grayson had put me next to his bed like a goddamn dog—no, worse. Dogs had beds. He’d made it clear I didn’t deserve that. He wanted it ingrained in me that my being in his room wasn’t a privilege—it was a punishment.

At least the carpet was plush.

“Who’s that next to your bed?” a steady, deep voice drifted inside. I sat up. I knew that voice—everyone knew that voice—and a blanket fell off me. I fingered the silken threads warily. I’d gone to sleep without any blanket. It was like everything else in Gray’s wing—silky black, decadent.

Had Grayson given me a blanket?

“Nobody,” Gray replied, and a booming laugh followed, pulling me back into reality.

Beryl Crowne, grandfather and patriarch to the Crowne family, was just outside the room. Just his name made me freeze up. Beryl rarely came home, but today…today was the Swan Swell.

Shit.

The Swan Swell was famous in Crowne Point. It happened every year, usually a week before their famous Fourth of July party. It was a time when the native swans flooded the sandy white beaches. It also happened to be Abigail Crowne’s favorite time of year. She would never forgive me once today passed and I wasn’t back in time to help her get ready. So what did that mean for me? What happened when Gray was finished with me?

Would I still have a job here?

Unlikely, I thought glumly.

I stood up, trying to see where the voices were coming from. Grayson’s wing was huge. Abigail’s entire wing could fit in his bedroom. I mean, just his bedroom was two floors. I guess that’s what you get for being the favorite heir.

I peered over the iron balcony, down to the bottom floor. The double doors were open, and through them I could see Beryl Crowne in his iconic three-piece suit, glimpse flashes of his silvering hair.

“So long as the du Lac girl doesn’t see…” Beryl Crowne rubbed a hand through his moussed hair. “Your sister is a shitshow. We already have one marriage on the rocks; we don’t need yours.”

Tags: Mary Catherine Gebhard Crowne Point Erotic
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