Page 32 of Darling Obsession

But he’s a liar.

He’s lying to his family. He’s got a secret about this Darla woman, and he’s going to some pretty extreme lengths to cover it up. The man is obviously a cautionary tale. The villain in his own fairytale.

And he didn’t bring me here because he wants me.

It’s not lust I feel in the air between us.

It’s power. Ruthless, uncompromising, and total, drugging in its potency.

It’shispower.

I tell myself there will never be anything between Harlan Vance and me but this brief, shady business deal.

But maybe I’m a liar, too.

Chapter 6

Quinn

“Ialways wanted a big family,” I tell Harlan’s sister, Savannah. “You know, lots of kids running around. A whole little band or soccer team.”

I immediately catch my foot in my mouth and wash it down with wine, realizing that I might’ve just implied a desire to have “lots of kids” with Harlan. You know, my lover.

I glance at him. He’s sitting next to me at the dinner table, watching me, and looking tense as ever. His jaw is doing that clenching thing.

This man needs a massage or something.

If he didn’t want me to bond with his sister, he really shouldn’t have provided so much wine. This is what women do. We bond over rosé.

“Well, how old are you, Darla?” Savannah asks me, sipping the rosé that she had the butler pull out from what I can only assume is some wine cave beneath this castle, after she asked me what I like to drink, and I told her that I’m a rosé all day type of girl.

“Thirty-one.”

“Plenty of time for kids, then,” she muses. “Just don’t wait too long, if you want that band.”

“Right. Better get on that,” I quip, feeling bubbly. Even the dark clouds gathering over the man next to me can’t dim my mood. Savi—as he calls her—and I are having a moment.

When he introduced me to his siblings, they all seemed to accept that my name is Darla, and we sat right down to dinner, quickly moving on to friendly conversation. His brothers are all gentlemen—way better manners than Harlan—and I find myself especially intrigued by his twin sister.

Maybe it’s all the wine, but Harlan’s family is kind of amazing.

His brothers are handsome, well-spoken, and intelligent, and Savannah is fabulous. She’s self-possessed, accomplished, and surprisingly cool.

She reminds me a bit of Dani, actually, except warmer and more voluptuous. And with dark hair and a massive fortune.

I shift the subject away from babies, though, so Harlan doesn’t have a cardiac event right next to me. His brothers are all listening to my conversation with Savannah, too. “What was it like growing up with Harlan?” I ask her, feeling his eyes scorching the side of my face. “I can’t really picture him as a little boy.”

“Well, aren’t you in luck. I happen to have a photo right here.” She slips a photo out of her wallet and hands it to me.

It’s a photo of four boys I can only assume are Harlan and his three brothers. They stand in a row, facing the camera, arms slung around one another, oldest to youngest. Graysen, the oldest and tallest, has his hand buried in Harlan’s hair, which is tousled into a dark froth. Harlan, maybe six years old, is grinning, his eyes pinched into happy slits.

They’re all smiling. Damian appears to be in the middle of laughing.

It looks like happy chaos.

“You carry this around? Why?”

A small smile hooks the corner of Savannah’s mouth. “Because I love them.”

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