Page 61 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

A languid cello concerto trilled through the headset. Clearly, they were getting right to it. He probably had the condensed timeline to thank for that. Some of the other men were concerned about the new timeframe, but not Ryker. He didn’t need the two weeks.

He was ready to propose now.

Some might have said he was moving too fast, but Ryker had already decided. He wanted Brynleigh de la Point. She might not be the kind of wife his mother desired for him, but she was the woman he wanted.

Ryker would cherish the next two weeks. He would use the time to familiarize himself with his future bride and learn everything about her. Besides, Brynleigh might still need the time to make her decision. He wasn’t so full of himself that he thought Brynleigh would fall over herself in a rush to the altar to meet him.

Love took work on both sides, and he intended to prove to the vampire that he would be the best possible partner for her. Ryker would provide for Brynleigh in every way, keep her safe, and give her a home full of love. He could see it now—their life would be filled with laughter, games, intelligent comments, and hours of conversation.

He couldn’t wait.

The music quieted until all Ryker could hear was his thundering heart.

A soft inhale came through the headphones, barely more than a breath.

“Brynleigh?” he murmured, his coffee cup frozen midway to his mouth. “Is that you?”

What a stupid question. Of course, it was. After his final, disastrous conversation with Valentina yesterday, he’d requested that Brynleigh be his only date from now on. Still, he had to know.

The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity as he waited and waited for a response.

Was she there?

When a lifetime—or a few seconds, it was hard to tell—passed, a serene, feminine exhale caressed his ears. It was like a refreshing breeze whispering on his skin on a hot day. That voice that was becoming as familiar as his own breathed, “Ryker.”

At the sound of his name on Brynleigh’s lips, Ryker groaned. His cock stirred, and he adjusted himself as he let his eyes fall shut.

No one else said his name like that. It was half-prayer, half-plea, and all… her. The lilt of her voice, the specific way she pulled out each syllable, was everything he ever needed. Tension left his shoulders, and he relaxed.

“Hey there, sweetheart. I missed you.” Truth.

“I missed you, too.”

He’d never heard better words. Leaning forward in his seat, he opened his eyes once more. “Did you get my note?”

A wooden wall was all that separated them. He stared at the striations in the wood and waited.

Ryker used to be patient—his mother often described him as imperturbable—but he was so eager to hear his vampire’s words that every second she was silent was too long.

“Yes, the Matron delivered it.” A breathy laugh filled the air. “You know, no one’s ever written me a note before. It was very sweet.”

A smile stretched from ear to ear as he settled into the chair. If everything went well, this would be a long, comforting conversation. “Does that make me your first pen pal?”

He really liked the sound of that. He was greedy and wanted as many of her firsts as she would give him.

First proposal, first time seeing each other, first dance, first kiss when they were alone…

His mind ran wild with everything they would do once they were away from the public’s watchful eye.

She chuckled. “I suppose it does.”

“And did you like the note?” By the Obsidian Sands, he sounded like a schoolboy. Still, he had to know.

“I did.” Brynleigh laughed.

“Good,” he breathed.

There was a pause, and he imagined her twirling those long golden strands through her fingers. “Although, I do have a few critiques I’d like to submit.”

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