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She chuckles. “Ravished By The Vampire Duke. I told Dani I was in the mood for something spicy and this was her suggestion. Now I’m missing the best part.”
“In that case, should I leave you alone with your duke?”
“Please do.”
“All right, but Conner will be up to interrupt you again in a minute.”
“Fine, fine.” She waves a bony hand. A light autumn breeze filters through the window screen and ruffles the wispy ends of her silver hair.
I never plan to look at the picture that sits on the table beside her bed but my eyes are always drawn to it anyway. A young, beautiful Cecile and her four little daughters pose on a California beach. A childish Aunt Edie smiles at me through the lens of time as she stands beside the little sister she would murder one day.
It’s hard enough for me to escape thoughts of Edie.
For Conner, I’m sure this is impossible.
I leave the room as the duke’s manhood makes a conquering move.
It’s weird how I keep wondering what Tess is doing right now.
Chapter5
Tess
This has been a long week.
Partly because I’ve worked a ton and haven’t slept enough. But mostly because my mind insists on constantly revisiting last Friday night.
The night I dropped all inhibitions, had multi-orgasmic sex with Micah Lyonne and loved every second of it.
A dollop of oatmeal lands in my lap when my spoon tilts sideways.
As usual, Micah’s gruff, seductive voice has a way of finding me wherever I am.
“Bad girl.”
The spoon is now being clutched so tightly my fingers ache. I cross my legs at the ankle and silently order my brain to quit going dirty places.
After all, I have plenty of other things to keep me occupied. Campaigns to run and shit. Thirty-eight days until voters go to the polls.
Dropping my spoon back into the oatmeal sludge, I scan the trending political hashtags on my phone. Mynewphone, that is. A replacement for the one that met an uncertain east side fate.
I’ve not breathed a word of that misfortune to anyone. The topic strays too close to…other topics.
Micah topics.
My father drizzles honey over his whole wheat toast before turning his shrewd dark eyes on me. Sometimes it’s nerve-wracking, sitting across the kitchen table from my own father and bearing the full brunt of his scrutiny.
“You’ve arranged all the transportation, correct?”
This is a pointed question. Early in the campaign I’d delegated the task of confirming his ride back from a conference he attended up in the Lake Poppy area. After being stuck there for an extra two hours in a raging thunderstorm, he was displeased.
The next day I received a lengthy lecture.
“Never neglect the details, Tess. And remember every bit of my faith is wrapped up in you.”
No pressure there.
I keep my head up and answer him without missing a beat. “The car will be here in half an hour. You’ll find your full itinerary in your email along with the changes I approved to your speeches. There is some criticism coming from the opposition that you are spending time at rallies outside Em City, campaigning for candidates in other races.”
