Page 142 of Charming Deception

She knows how he is. I already told her earlier, in our therapy session. “He’s a twat.” Book three is no different from book two in that regard.

She narrows her eyes at me.

“I think he’s saying goodbye. He’s a dumbass.” I close the tablet and set it safely aside. Again.

“I think you need to take another break. Sleep.”

I watch her eyes close, then slip the tablet open.

A few minutes later, I’m pretty sure I startle her when I swear at her book. “Fucking Christ. She’s going after him. After he abandoned her at the citadel like a little bitch.”

Megan breathes out a soft laugh. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

I skewer her with my gaze. “You never promised me a happy ending.”

“That’s true.”

“Have you written the ending yet?”

“Um…”

She hasn’t. I know she hasn’t.

Which means she can’t promise me a thing.

* * *

I wake up and find myself slumped in my seat, my tablet and glasses in my lap. Megan is sleeping soundly on the bed.

It’s the dead of night.

I pick up the tablet, blink my eyes fully open and slip my glasses on, and keep reading. I’ve already done the calculations. If she’s writing four or five books total, like she said, Rowan and Wolf are now about halfway through their story arc.

And Wolf is still being a dumb twat.

Rowan approaches on the rocky ledge above, between the trees. I see her, running toward the edge, her breasts bouncing in the tiny jacket that barely covers her.

She comes to the edge of the rock. I stand staring up at her.

“What are you bloody wearing?”

Besides the jacket, she’s wearing a silky, green bustle clipped around her waist. It cascades down her backside, but covers nothing in front. She has no panties on at all, just garters dangling down her thighs.

She ran out like that, in the middle of getting fitted for her marching gown?

Because of me?

Her chest heaves. “You’re leaving?”

“How am I supposed to do this with your cunt in my face?”

She jumps down from the rock, landing in front of me. I catch her so she doesn’t fall. “So don’t do it.” There’s fire in her eyes as we grip one another’s arms.

I let go first. “Play fair, Lady Rowan.”

“Fair? Like running off without a word?”

“I’m not running. I’m heading over the river before it gets too cold.”

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