Page 64 of Seal My Fate

“Well, I like that part of the plan.” I sigh, digging into the ice cream. “But Saint… Do you really think your father would confess so easily? The lengths he’s gone to already to cover this thing up. Even if you believe other people are behind the violence,” I add. “He’s still got everything riding on this launch. The stock price, the entire Ashford name!”

Saint pauses for a long moment. “I have to give him the chance,” he says finally. “The chance to do the right thing.”

“And not the easy thing,” I say softly. He nods. “But he if denies it, or stonewalls—”

“Then we’ll go straight to the press and expose everything.” Saint agrees immediately. “Look, tomorrow is Max and Annabelle’s big wedding. Everyone will be there, including my family, and every journalist around. I’ll find a moment to confront him, and if it doesn’t work, we can pull someone aside, and slip them a copy of the hard drive. March straight over to the Met headquarters and tell them everything.”

“Tomorrow,” I repeat slowly, feeling a shiver of nerves—and excitement, too. After everything, I can't wait for it all to be out in the open. No more sneaking and secrets. Just the truth, for everyone to see.

“Between that and the five million bridal events Annabelle needs me for, it’s going to be a big day.” I sigh, licking ice cream from my spoon. “Do we really have to go to this thing?” I ask playfully. “I mean, you’ve only known Max half your life. He won’t miss you, will he?”

Saint chuckles. “Sure, we can bail. One of Annabelle’s bridesmaids will have to walk herself up the aisle, but I’m sure nobody will notice.”

“Right. It’s just a small affair. Thrown together, last minute,” I smirk.

“Practically an elopement,” Saint grins back at me. He’s clearly just as relieved to have the finish line in sight.

I eat another spoonful of ice cream, and Saint’s gaze lingers on my mouth. “What?” I ask, smiling.

“I’m always astonished by your ability to distract me from… Everything,” he says, leaning in and licking a drop from the edge of my lip. His tongue rasps against my skin, sensual.

Heat suffuses me.

“And I’m always astonished by your ability to turn me on,” I murmur, sliding into his lap, and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Is that so?” Saint kisses me properly, long and slow and smoldering, until my whole body feels sharp and hot with desire.

“Very so,” I murmur, wriggling against him. “You know, it’s our last night,” I add, breathing softly into his ear. “Before things get… Crazy.”

“You’re right.” Saint’s grip tightens on my hips. “It feels like we should mark the occasion somehow…”

“Is that how it feels?” I whisper, shifting in his lap again, rubbing against him.

Saint exhales. Then he gives me a slow, wicked grin.

“Ooh, I like that smile,” I say, tracing it softly. “Usually very, very good things happen when you smile like that.”

“Then we better make sure tonight measures up.”

Saint nods to the bureau where he keeps the mail. “Second drawer down,” he says. “Go get it.”

I arch my eyebrows at the order. “Yes, professor,” I smirk, and sashay over. There’s an elegant cream envelope nestled in the drawer. I lift it out. “This?”

He nods. I bring it back, and perch on his lap again, as Saint opens the envelope, and slides out a thick, gold-leafed invitation.

You are cordially invited…

Masks required. Discretion presumed.

Midnight.

I feel a spark of recognition. “It’s like the invitation for the first party,” I exclaim. “The one where we…”

“… First became acquainted,” Saint finishes for me, with a wolfish grin.

I shiver with anticipation, remembering the lavish event: the masked crowd, the performers, the sensual, wild adventures.

Saint getting sucked off by another woman, while I watched the two of them, touching myself in a frenzy.

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