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“No?” She blinks, looking genuinely surprised. She is not accustomed to that word, especially from me.
“No,” I repeat. “I don’t intend to think about it.”
“Oh ... well, I understand.” But she doesn’t. Which is why she deflates like a balloon.
“I plan on leaving everything I own to the Planetary Society,” I continue.
She reaches for the pearls on her neck, playing with them. “That’s fine. I ... I shouldn’t have asked.”
Someone give the woman a Razzie Award. She is terrible at playing the innocent part.
“So you can call off the engagement right now,” I urge her, almost tauntingly. “If this is a deal breaker for you.”
She shakes her head, a shriek of laughter bubbling from her throat. “That won’t be necessary. Really, it was only a suggestion. I’m okay with whatever you choose. I’m not marrying you for your money.”
Of course she is. And the worst part is, I know I’m not going to deny her. Test her—sure. But I’ll never follow through. She will get what she wants. I will write her into my will, and vice versa.
“Grace.”
“Yes, my love?” She attempts a weak smile. Fails.
“We’ll visit my lawyer this week and make the necessary changes.”
Her shoulders sag in relief. She smiles—reallysmiles now—her entire features brightening up, like a flower angled up toward the sun on the first day of spring. I’ve never made her smile like this before.
A rush of possessiveness and desire courses through me.
She is mine. Her bony fingers. Her shrewd eyes. Her black heart. All mine.
“Thank you for trusting me.” She reaches across the table, grabs my hand, squeezes. Her hand is cold and dry. “I love you.”
I promise myself not to drink or eat anything she makes in the future unless she takes a first sip or bite.
“Love you too.”
And I do. I love her. I’m sure of it.
But I also know one thing for sure—a leopard never changes its spots.
CHAPTER NINE
ARSÈNE, SEVENTEEN
I was home for Christmas. Or at least, at the place technically referred to as my home. If it were up to me, I’d have stayed at Andrew Dexter. With that moron Riggs, who was probably looking for creative ways to set himself on fire or jump from roof to roof to pass the time. Or Nicky. Quiet and reserved and sad as he might have been, he didn’t make a bad companion. He wasn’t a complete idiot either. Always a plus in my book.
The truth of the matter was, these two orphans felt more like my family than the heartless creatures occupying this mansion.
Said creatures were now bursting into the dining room, completely ignoring the fact that I was sitting there eating my breakfast while enjoying an astronomy book.
“You’re a selfish bastard, Doug! That’s what you are.” Miranda sank her claws into the back of an upholstered dining chair, spitting fumes and fire at my dad, who—of course—had chased her here.
“Takes one to know one, honey. What’d you think, that I’d just let you hand over that estate to your mother?”
Uh-huh.Miranda crossed a line here. Never mess with a Corbin’s property without permission. We were a stingy bunch. I flipped a page in my book.
“She had nowhere to live!” Miranda shrieked.
“We could’ve rented her a place. I have people leasing the property! Paying customers. What were you thinking?”
