Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Hale’s silver eyes darkened. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because he followed me into the library and made me super uncomfortable.”
His focus was no longer on me as he scanned the crowd. “What did he say to you?”
“It wasn’t what he said. It was how he said it. Like being pregnant was some sort of testament to your virility.”
“I’ll kill him.”
I grabbed him by the lapels. “Hey, can we not do the whole Neanderthal thing tonight? You’ve marked your territory and I could do without the whole let’s pee a circle around Rayne spectacle.” I pointed to my belly. “Everyone knows I’m yours.”
“Exactly. So why would he say something to make you uncomfortable.”
“Probably because he sensed your father closing in to buy out his company, and he knows I work for Remington. I think he was just trying to disarm the opposition.”
“There he is.”
“Hale—”
I was suddenly standing alone like a pregnant fool in the center of the ballroom. A plastic smile formed on my face as Hale made a B-line to Xander. Women whispered behind manicured nails.
Remington met my stare then his gaze moved to Hale and Xander Landry.
I was done.
Shoving through the crowd, I disappeared into the foyer and requested my shawl from the coat check. I gave the valet Alphonse’s name and they called for the car.
The limo appeared a moment later, and Alphonse looked at me, confused and concerned. “Rayne?”
“Can you take me back to the estate?”
“Where is Mr. Davenport?”
“He’s getting a ride home with the other Mr. Davenport.” They could call an Uber for all I cared.
Alphonse opened the door and helped me into the vehicle. “Are you okay?”
I sighed. He was the only man to ask me that all night. “I am now. Thank you.”
“I’ll get you home.” He shut the door and I sank into the seat, relieved to be alone.
The Turkey Shoot
“It’s barbaric!” Seraphina cried, lifting her glass for yet another mimosa.
The men had disappeared early that morning for what was an age-old tradition in the Davenport family. They were off to hunt dinner.
No, not really. We had crab legs on ice, caviar, and a twenty-four-pound bird already marinating. This was just a dumb thing the boys did so they could dress like a Ralph Lauren spread and shoot guns.
“I doubt they’ll kill anything. Hale doesn’t know how to use a rifle.”
Marta looked up from the bowl of custard she was whipping. Brunch had moved from the dining room to the kitchen because I wanted to be where the food was. The housekeeper mumbled something in Spanish, and Seraphina laughed.
“Hasta la English, please.” I scowled, despising when they spoke in Spanish. Sometimes, I suspected they specifically did that, so I wouldn’t understand.
“Mr. Davenport is a very skilled hunter, Niña.”
“He is?” This was news to me.
“Did you honestly think there was something Hale was not good at?” Phina asked.
“But Hale’s not a killer. He doesn’t hunt. He hates anything messy.”
Phina rolled her eyes and emptied another bottle of bubbly into her diluted orange juice. “Hale hunts.”
“No,” I argued. “He sings lullabies and rescues ducklings.”
“He’s a killer, Rayne.”
Odette sipped her tea and chuckled. “Are you a vegetarian, Rayne?”
“No, but that’s not the point.”
I still couldn’t meet her gaze, so I gathered the crumbs on the counter into a pile. Maybe she and Remington had an open relationship.
“I find these things are less about the kill and more about the tradition,” Naomi chimed in. “It’s a part of the Davenport heritage for the men to go on these hunts. They like any excuse to showcase their privilege. They get off on the exclusivity of the event and other men beg for an invitation each year. Let them have it.” This, coming from the woman who divorced from the man leading the slaughter.
“I think you’re a little more indulgent than me. I don’t believe in killing animals for sport.”
“Someone killed that bacon you’re eating.”
I stilled then dropped the scrap of bacon right into Phina’s champagne. “Thanks for ruining it.”
“Look, it’s the one time of year that Remy actually bonds with his sons,” Naomi said. “Can we all just appreciate that?”
I couldn’t imagine Hale and Remington spending this much time one on one together. They’d been gone since before the sun was up.
“What time are they coming back?” Phina asked, fishing the bacon out of her glass. “I might have Alphonse drive me into town before we get bombarded with testosterone. Want to come Rayne?”
“Wait, how many people are coming back?” I looked down at my faded T-shirt stretched over my stomach and my dingy sweatpants. I was in my house cardigan, the one with a hole in the elbow that I simply couldn’t part with.
“All of the men. They should be back soon,” Marta said, moving to set out refreshments.
“Hold on. Who’s coming here?”
“It’s mostly just the guys from last night.” Phina, of course, was already dressed for the day in her ivory cowl neck sweater and riding boots, even if she was working with a midday buzz.