Page 10 of Finding Forever

That naturally brought his thoughts circling back to the woman who’d frequently wandered into his mind over the last two months. Usually, the memory of her was cringe inducing and while that cringe factor was still there, it was now mixed in with a healthy dose ofwhat the fuckness.

He needed to have a conversation with her.

Soon.

He needed to know what game she was playing. He considered sneaking around trying to find her room, but grimaced at the thought of accidentally stumbling into one of the Abernathy sisters’ rooms instead. God, that would be a shitshow and invite even further unwanted attention. Worse, he’d be unable to adequately explain his reasons for sneaking around the house in the middle of the night.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, it was best to stay put and try to corner her in the morning.

A soft, scratching noise coming from his bedroom door made him freeze and his head tilted as he tried to figure out thesource of that noise. He slowly relaxed when a few seconds passed without the sound recurring, maybe it had been a rodent or?—

There it was again.

Louder… more purposeful. He was wondering if it was one of those predatory women, trying to get into his room, when a white slip of paper slid across the marble floor from the gap beneath the door.

Wha—? For a beat he stared at it blankly, when the name on what he could now identify as an envelope registered:Cade.

Only one person here would call him that.

His long-legged stride ate up the distance between window and door in four seconds flat and he yanked it open just in time to see her turning down the far corner at the end of the long hallway.

“Wait!” he whisper-shouted, then swore viciously before taking off after her. He caught up with her at her bedroom door, hooking a hand in the crook of her elbow, just as she opened said door, and swinging her round to face him. She was a wearing a long, white, short sleeved nightgown, and her hair, only a shade or two darker than the gown, was tumbling down her shoulders and back in a mass of heavy silken waves. He froze, stuck by the absolute beauty of that fall of silver hair, haloed by the warm light of the room behind her.

His throat worked for a second as he fought to find his voice. She stared at him mutely, eyes wide in shock and no small amount of fear.

It was the fear that jostled him out of his daze, and he fastened his free hand around her other arm and frog marched her backward into her room, shutting the door firmly behind them before releasing her.

“Now, Fern Lambert, do you mind telling me exactlywhat the fuckyou’re playing at?”

Chapter

Three

Fern stared up into that darkly handsome, furious face, her hand absently massaging the spot where he had grabbed her. It didn’t hurt—far from it—but a tingle radiated slowly outward from what had been the point of contact, and it washed her whole body with uncomfortable warmth.

“I know how this must look,” she murmured, finally finding her voice, after the silence between them had stretched on a beat too long. “I’m not playing at anything. But… but Idoneed your help.”

She was proud that she’d managed to say that much with only the slightest tremble in her voice.

“You knew who I was. At the gala.” His voice was steely but his words made her frown in confusion.

“Of course, I told you so, remember?”

Now it was his turn to frown, just a brief flickering of his brow before his expression smoothed over again, replaced by that beautiful emotionless mask, while his eyes burned into her face.

“You knew about the deal,” he elaborated. “Was ourmeeting a set up for one of Abernathy’s ploys? A way for him to undermine the contract?”

“No. I knew he was in negotiations with your company, as well as the Goldings. And, I think, Alba something? But I didn’t realize that he’d settled on a buyer. He seemed to be having too much fun toying with all the interested parties.”

“Golding Engineering and theAlvaGroup?” he repeated, his face no longer emotionless, now settled into a thundercloud.

“Yes. I wasn’t supposed to know even that much. He doesn’t tell me anything. He says it’s nothing for me to concern myself over. But he’s dismantled several of my mother’s—my—assets in the past and sold them off as spare parts. He thinks I’m unaware of what he’s done. But even if he did know I knew, he wouldn’t care. What I think—what Iwant—is not important to him. Lambecrete is one of Lambert Holdings’ biggest and most profitable companies. It was my mother’s pride and joy, and he’ll use it to leverage what he really wants from you and your family.”

He watched her intently, eyes narrowed as if was trying to gauge her truthfulness. He folded his arms across his impressive chest and leaned back against the door. She only now noticed that he was wearing light gray sweatpants and a short sleeved white T-shirt. His feet were bare. The sight of those long, narrow feet did strange things to her stomach, and she swallowed and hastily diverted her gaze back to his broody face.

He didn’t seem to notice her momentary distraction, and definitely didn’t seem too aware of her flushed cheeks. Instead, he remained focused on her last statement. “And what does he really want from us?”

“Your name. Your influence. Your connections. He wants tobeyou. He wants the respect and influence that goes with being a Hawthorne. And as far as he’s concerned, the only way toachieve that is through marriage. Yours. Or your brother’s. To Toni or Allie.”

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