Page 3 of The Rancher's Wedding Betrayal
I want to stop being sodamnproud.
Luther escorted her inside, and another familiar face greeted her.
"Welcome back, Eve."
"It's so nice to see you again."
"Hunter says he'd like to speak with you in his study."
"What if—"
Cathy, who was as strict as she was motherly, simply raised a brow, and Eve felt like she was back to being nineteen again as she swallowed the rest of her protest. "Lead the way," she said instead, and the older woman nodded in approval.
Hunter's study was at the end of the hallway, and every step she took made her feel more and more nauseous.
Am I really going to do this?
Hunter looked up from his desk, silver-gray eyes locking onto hers. He’d somehow become even more beautiful in the years since she’d seen him last. And somehow, colder and harsher as well. At thirty-eight, he radiated the kind of authority that came from building an empire through sheer force of will. His broad shoulders strained against his tailored shirt, and even seated behind his imposing desk, his presence filled the entire room.
Oh no.
Eve could feel her body reacting to his presence just like before, with her throat tightening, and her breasts swelling against the cups of her bra. But worst of all was the heat pooling between her legs, with how it was making her clench her fists against the urge to squirm.
I thought I was over him.
But clearly, she was...not.
Chapter Two
EIGHT YEARS AGO
Hunter watched his stepsister throw her bags into the trunk of her battered Honda through the living room window. Each movement was sharp and angry, her slender shoulders stiff with the effort of holding herself together.
Behind him, Evelline's mother sobbed quietly in his father’s arms, and Hunter's jaw clenched. He hated having to hurt June like this. She was kind and sweet...while her daughter was not, and that was why this had to happen.
“Hunter.” His father’s voice was grave. “This has gone far enough. Whatever happened with Midnight—”
“Isn’t the point.” Hunter cut him off without turning around. His prized stallion would recover, eventually. The animal’s injuries weren’t what kept his blood boiling.
It was her refusal to admit what she’d done.
Boris moved to stand beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Son—”
“No one asked her to leave," he reminded his father coldly. "This is her choice alone, and we'll do her no favors by coddling her. She's old enough to face the consequences of her actions."
The sound of Evelline slamming the trunk closed had his jaw clenching. His gaze swung back to her, just in time to see her dark hair whip around her face in the Texas wind.
Damn her.
Even now, even furious, she was beautiful in a way that made him grit his teeth against the need to call her back.
Why, dammit?
Why couldn’t she just admit she was at fault?
Evelline turned then, looking up at the window where he stood. Even from this distance, he could see the tears streaming down her face, and for one fragile moment—
He could see it in her eyes.
