Page 54 of Wicked Heiress

I woke up alone, the space Cole once occupied empty, and I missed the loss of his touch. He comforted me all night until I fell asleep in his arms, crying on his shoulder.

How long had I slept?

The clock on the nightstand read five fifteen. I slid off the bed and popped my head into the hallway. My nose tipped up at the scent of beef and herbs, and my stomach rumbled.

When was the last time I ate?

I quickly dressed and wandered downstairs, letting my growling stomach lead the way. In the main dining room, I found Mark Marshall. He sat by himself at the head of the table, drinking a glass of scotch as he read the newspaper in his other hand. The opposite of my dad, he reminded me of a businessman, not a military academy's commandant.

"Did I miss dinner?"

Mark looked up from the newspaper. "No, you're right on schedule."

I sat in the chair beside him. "Is it just the two of us?"

He folded the paper in half and set it on the table. "For now. Willow is out with a friend. So are the twins. And Cole is… I’m not sure where.”

The waitstaff set our plates on the table.

“Did Rhys go back to California?”

He dropped the cloth napkin on his lap and shook his head. “No, he’s staying with a friend.”

I sliced into my steak and chewed, delighted by the tastiness of the meat. “I’m sorry,” I said between bites. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“It’s not your fault.” He put down the knife and stabbed at the meat with his fork. “Rhys has always been a troubled boy. His family is… Well, I guess I shouldn’t make excuses for him. But Rhys doesn’t come from a loving home. He wasn’t shown how to treat people properly. Still, that doesn’t excuse what he did to you. You have my sincerest apology.”

I didn’t understand why Mark felt so bad. The Marshalls had been nothing but nice to me.

“When is my dad coming to get me?”

Mark scooped the fluffy potatoes onto his fork, speaking between bites. “I’m sorry, Grace. But I have bad news. The Colonel’s mission has been extended by six months. You’ll stay here until he returns.”

No.

My stomach filled with dread, the food churning in my stomach. I put down the fork and wiped my mouth with the napkin.

Cole stumbled into the dining room, his blond hair disheveled and sticking up at the ends, and his eyes found mine. “Grace, I need to talk to you. Alone."

I rose from the table and said to Mark, “Thank you for dinner.”

He nodded and went back to eating.

Cole offered his hand and guided me through the house, not stopping until we were in my bedroom. He locked the door behind him, inching toward me like a hunter. Wearing fitted, dark jeans that probably cost five hundred bucks and a black shirt that clung to his muscles, he oozed sex.

I licked my lips. “What’s going on?”

His hands slid to my waist, chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes searing mine like lasers. “This is all Rhys’s fault. I tried to warn you, Grace. You should have listened to me. What comes next could have been avoided. Rhys has sealed your fate.”

“What are you talking about?"

"You can't stay in Devil's Creek.” He shook his head and sighed, frustrated. "We’re leaving tonight. I said I would protect you. And I’m a man of my word.”

“Protect me from who? My grandfather?”

“The Vanderbilts. Your grandfather. The Founders.” He scrubbed a hand at his jaw. “If you trust me, pack a bag and meet me in the game room at two o’clock. I’ll explain everything when we’re someplace safe.”

Without another word, he exited the room.

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