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He arches a brow. “Is that right?”

“Isn’t it?” I challenge.

“My father taught me that impressing others comes with a price. And that price is their power over us.”

He hits so many nerves with those words that I can feel them all prickling to life. “And yet you want to impress me?”

He leans closer. “In defiance of all that I am and all that I want to be, yes. I find I do. You interest me, Emma, and I don’t find I’m interested in many people.”

Heat burns a path up my neck and I can feel blood rush to my face and every part of my body. It would be so very easy to just allow this man to pull me under, and perhaps I will, but not yet. Not yet. “And you just left right along with Randall last night?”

“You left while I waited on Randall and,” he catches my hand and leans in closer again. “We’re here now. Perhaps, it’s fate.”

“You believe in fate?” I query, surprised that a worldly man such as Jax would believe in what amounts to superstition.

“I believe in karma and I’d like to think I’m deserving.”

It’s an odd answer that feels as if it’s two sides of the same coin. “I don’t,” I say and I don’t offer more but oh how I could. Oh how the past month has changed my perspective on all things life-related.

His brow arches. “You don’t believe in karma?”

“No,” I confirm. “I don’t believe in karma.”

“Do you know what they say about people who don’t believe in karma?”

There’s a crackle of unease inside me with good cause. I don’t need much of an imagination to conclude an answer that I don’t want to speak or hear.

“Jax.” At the sound of a woman’s voice, I expect Jax to turn, but he doesn’t.

“Yes, Rebecca?”

“There’s a problem with one of the shipments. Can I see you, please?”

“I donated the bar tonight,” he says to me. “I’ll bring you back a taste of something North.”

I laugh at the double entendre that clearly references my drink and him, turning back to the railing with the first real smile on my lips in a month. No. No, if I’m honest with myself, it’s been far longer. I knew there was something off with my father. I knew for a long time and I never spoke up. My mind travels back in time, trying to find the moment I’d connected with that idea, weeding through moments until there’s a shift in the energy behind me.

I smile at the idea of Jax re-joining me, but a clawing sensation rushes over me just before he steps to my side, and says, “Hello, Emma.”

This is not Jax. I know this even before I whirl around to face him. He’s Marion’s surprise. He’s my nightmare.

CHAPTER NINE

Emma…

He’s the reason I don’t believe in karma because he never gets his. I do. York Waters is a billionaire, the heir apparent to the Waters’ yacht and boat empire, for most of the time I knew him, until he inherited. He’s also my ex-fiancé. A man who is tall, dark and good looking personified. A man of power and money. A man who knows more about me than I want to know about myself. He is every mistake I have ever made. He is the secrets I keep. He is arrogant, and as I have learned, dangerous.

“What do you want, York?” I demand, knowing this man well enough to know that he does nothing without a self-serving agenda.

“I was out of the country when your father died. I wanted to come and check on you.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I say, knowing what he wants, what he’s always wanted, “but I didn’t inherit. Perhaps you could date Randall, my brother’s right-hand man. He’s now been given more power than me.”

He steps closer and I step back because yes, I believe in standing my ground, but this is York. This is a man who convinced me to do things I barely know as me. His gray eyes spark with sharp, distinct interest.

“Running?” he challenges, and coming from him rather than Jax, it feels different, like a threat. Like I’ve made myself his prey.

“Running is a reaction,” I say. “I’m making a decision to say no. No. That’s my safe word, remember?”

His lips quirk. “I don’t believe in safe words. Remember?”

“And there you go,” I say coolly when indeed, I remember all too well. “One statement that personifies the beginning, middle, and end of you and me.”

“Stop,” he says, his gray eyes glinting steel. “Stop drawing the line neither of us wants drawn. I’ll step over it. Why make me?”

He’s wrong. I don’t just want a line between me and him, I want a wall. “I told you, York. I didn’t inherit.”

“And I told you, I wanted to check on you.” He steps to me again and this time, I don’t back away. He’s close, too close, when Jax couldn’t be close enough. “No one knows you like I know you. I’m your safe place. I’m the one who knows all of your secrets. I’ve always kept them between us. I’ve always protected you and your family.”

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