Page 41 of Cold Winter Nights

“Okay, I think we might be able to help. The firm might invest in…where is it you’re at again…Wynn, Winds…”

“Windeville,” Royal gritted.

“Yes, Windeville. Help you stabilize things there.”

Royal let out a long-held breath.

“But Royal, there’s one condition.”

Fuck. In finance, there was always a caveat, a quid pro quo.

His stomach tightened. “What is it Charles?”

“I need you to come back to Manhattan,right now. Maxwell and I have been working with one of your prior clients—that you abandon without good cause—who only wantsyouto broker this deal and advise on the stakes.”

Fuck you. I had damn good cause.

Royal already fucking knew who it was. A man that got his way no matter what.

Charles acknowledged Royal’s fear. “It’s Sinclair.”

Royal’s heart sank.

Roman Sinclair the Tenth, real estate developer, and billionaire. And first-class prick.

He’d hoped to never go back to that city, to stay far away from everything that had almost destroyed him. But Windeville needed money, and the quickest way to secure the funds was through his connections.

“I’ll come back,” he said reluctantly.

They spoke for a few more minutes, finalizing the arrangements. Royal agreed to fly back within the hour, and Sinclair was willing to send his personal helicopter and have it waiting for him at the small airstrip just outside town.

Royal hung up and let out a furious curse before he found Jojo standing at his door.

“You’re really going back?” she asked.

He met her gaze, the weight of his decision settling in.

“I am,” he sighed. “Hopefully not for long. Please tell Bo…Stone, that I’ll call him as soon as I can.”

Jojo gave him a sympathetic smile but didn’t say anything else.

It took Royal about forty-five minutes to make some important calls before he grabbed his garment bag and luggage and began stuffing in the clothes he needed to step back into the corporate world. When he was done, he hurried down the stairs and straight out to his SUV, the snow still falling and biting at his cheeks.

He searched for Stone, but he didn’t see him. He called and didn’t get an answer, so he sent a text.

Royal:I’m gonna call you as soon as I can.

Royal drove as fast as he could over the icy roads—so thankful he had a 4WD jeep—to the small airstrip. The helicopter was already there waiting when he arrived.

As he climbed inside and the blades began to spin before the chopper lifted off the ground, he took a deep breath, promising himself he’d be back as soon as he could.

Back to Stone.

Stone

Stone pulled up in front of the bed and breakfast, he and his truck were both running on fumes. The day had dragged on like a slow-motion nightmare. Cleaning up, fixing what could be fixed and hauling out what couldn’t had him aching in places he didn’t know could ache.

But he knew who could make him feel better, who could take it all away so he could rest. He needed rest. Needed to be in Royal’s arms so he could give him that comfort and reassurance that everything was going to be okay, even though deep down, Stone knew it wouldn’t.

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