Page 88 of Promise of Punishment

“Angel, your ideas were brilliant. And unlike you, Tessa and I don’t have any fond memories here.”

“What direction is the garden?” she asks. “The one where we met.”

I point to the northeast corner.

“I want to go there.” She faces me. “Please.”

“Whatever you wish.”

Tessa rejoins us and says she has to leave. Being here isn’t good for her newfound happiness, and she’s expected back in Scotland for Rory’s birthday.

“You should come. Both of you,” she says, then adds to Fable, “You’d love the castle. Duhnill is special.”

“Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

We say goodbye, and I have Fable wait on the terrace while I get the keys to one of the golf carts.

Fable

The quiet hum of a motor pulls my gaze from the pool and over my shoulder.

Wes pulls up in a black two-person golf cart with beefy tires. I’m glad it isn’t the six-seater the security drove when he kicked Mom and me off the property.

“Hop in, gorgeous.” Wes winks.

My heart flutters like I’m a teenager with a crush on the hottest boy at school.

I sit on the bench beside him, and we take off. My head jerks back from the force, and I laugh.

“I thought we could take the path less traveled, if you’re up for a little fun?”

A smile tugs at my lips. “I’m up for some fun.”

“Hold on.” He taps the grab bar.

I squeeze it as he turns the wheel and stomps the gas. We fly over bumps and hills that pop me off my seat, each one pulling another squeal of laughter from me.

“I’m getting us one of these for back at Hellfire.” He grins. “Actually, we need a new name for it. Got any suggestions?”

He slows down so the drive is smoother and adjusts his hands until they’re touching at the top of the steering wheel, his sexy forearms on display. Nothing about him in this moment says Earl.

“Can you stay in the US and keep your title here?”

His eyes flick to me. “What made you think of that?”

“Being here, I guess.”

“I can. My title doesn’t depend on where I live or what citizenship I have.”

“Oh.” The breeze blows my hair across my face, and I push it back. “What about our baby? Will he or she be an American citizen or a British citizen?”

“That’s up to us. Citizenship is separate from the title. The peerage can only pass to a son, but everything else I own is mine to leave however I want.”

“What do you want more?” I ask. “A boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know. You?”

“I don’t know either.”