Page 15 of Risky Vows

I pick up a pair of gray sweatpants and slip them on. Heading to the kitchen, I pour myself a red wine from a winery I invested in some years back. Colleen left food in the fridge, and I guess I can go ahead and eat it. Doesn't feel right, though.

Shouldn't Amara be here?

Admittedly, she doesn't know I've arrived yet. I asked Anthony not to say anything and to drop her off and leave. But a strange sensation lurks in my gut.

I'm about to taste the wine when I hear the front door.

She comes in, and I watch her walk from a distance as she stomps on the marble tiles, her shoulders slumped like she's had a tough day. When she reaches the top of the curved stairs, I erase the gap between us.

"Hello, rat."

She shrieks, eyes widened, panting. "I didn't expect you back tonight."

"Sometimes I underestimate my power of persuasion. Back early."

Disappointment crosses her expression. "Oh."

My gut clenches. Now I'm annoyed. "Hold your enthusiasm. I can't take it."

"I'm… I had a long day. I went to my parents, and my mom's ability to talk nonstop about every detail of her life is something I never underestimate."

"Why did you stay so long, then?" I know her brother's bedridden, and her father seems okay when you talk to him for short periods. Still, as a daughter, I'm sure she notices the changes in his personality.

"She wanted me to go through some clothes. I left a good amount of my wardrobe there."

"Is Anthony bringing them in?"

"I ended up donating a lot of things."

"Ah."

"Yeah. Did you eat?"

"No."

"I ate at my mom's, but Colleen said she'd leave lobster salad if I were hungry."

I open the fridge and take out the container. "Sit down," I demand, and she sits beside me.

I grab a plate and transfer the salad from the container, then grab the dressing and sit in front of her.

She looks at me, her intelligent eyes meeting mine. I give myself some wiggle room, and my attention turns to her pretty face and the dimples on her cheeks. She's wearing a boring outfit, a buttoned blouse with slacks. But even those pieces of clothing can't handle the lush curves underneath the fabric.

"How was your day?" she asks.

"Good. Grabbed the family jet. Things went my way." I put a generous amount of salad into my mouth.

She leans in, talking in a low voice like we're being recorded. "Do they ever… not go your way?"

I help myself to more salad, wishing it were a juicy steak. Suddenly, I'm starving. "Rarely. But there's a solution for everything."

She lifts an eyebrow. "Spoken like a motivational coach."

I suppress a smile. "Good one, rat."

"I'm glad I can amuse you."

"Oh, you have no idea." The things I want to do with her… Heat fills my chest.

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