Page 38 of Cruel Dynasty

And that was really the truth. I'd been asked to pretend to be Kerrigan Belmond. Tasked to stand in for her while she took an extended holiday. I had never expected to be put in the position to make choices that could define her whole life.

“Sorry. Although, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted both of them to yourself.”

“The thought has occurred to me,” I whispered, and we both laughed.

“You'd be crazy if it didn't,” he agreed. “If you're not ready to get married, then don't.”

He made it sound so simple. If only he knew how twisted my world was becoming.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

He nodded. “Anything.”

I swallowed and tried to think of the most delicate way to phrase it. “How did you know you were ready to get married?”

“I didn't,” he said sheepishly. His face darkened for a moment. “I knew that David wanted to. At least, I thought he did.”

“And that’s why you married him?”

“It was important to him.” He shrugged his shoulders, but sadness echoed in his words. “Love isn't always about what you want. Not when it's real. When it's real, sometimes it's about what they want.”

17

Hensley was quiet when I returned that evening. I’d managed to make it back despite two wrong turns. I stopped in the doorway and took off my jacket, hoping I could find some food in the kitchen. I hated the idea of putting anyone out. But before I could make my way to check, Holden appeared on the stairs, freezing when he saw me.

There was a moment of tension, and then he exploded. “Where the fuck have you been?”

My mouth fell open, but I quickly shut it. Mustering up a glare, I planted a hand on my hip as if daring him to ask again. “That’s none of your business.”

“Like hell, it’s not. Spencer has been trying to reach you for hours. I even drove around looking for you.” His fingers curled around the wooden bannister. “I was worried. Really fucking worried.”

I balked at this revelation. Holden worried? But that’s what he had said. I was worried. Not we were worried. I was worried. It took me a minute to gather my scrambled thoughts. “I just went for a drive.”

“You shouldn't be driving,” he announced.

“Spencer left me his car. It’s fine with him.”

Holden released the railing and came down the stairs. “Does he know about your panic attacks?”

Was that what this was about? “Look, they don’t happen that often. There’s no reason I can’t drive.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he stepped into the light from the overhead chandelier. Everything about him was on edge. Muscles rippled with tension under his shirt. His shoulders were squared as if bracing for an attack. Shadows lingered on his face. But his eyes were another story.

They were full of a different emotion: relief.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I should have left a note.”

“You should have answered your phone,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I was with a friend.” I pulled my phone out of my bag and checked it. There were three missed calls from Spencer. And a dozen from Holden. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d put it on silent.”

“What friend?” he asked, ignoring my apology. “I called Beatrice.”

“Were you checking up on me?” I asked, annoyance beginning to take root.

“I was trying to find you. For all I knew, you’d blacked out and run off the road. Hit a tree or wound up in a pond. You could have gone off a cliff.”

“Are there a lot of cliffs one might accidentally drive off around here?” I asked dryly.