The Redemption Read online Nikki Sloane (Filthy Rich Americans #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Filthy Rich Americans Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
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“Supportive how, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He understood I’m human and that I’d made a terrible mistake, but that it does not have to define me.” It wasn’t hard to fill my voice with contrition. In the months after I’d come home, I’d learned how to feel things again, and my remorse was genuine. “It’s what I do now that determines what kind of man I truly am.”

It was why I now hated Damon Lynch. As Sophia had said, he could have corrected his mistake, and chose every day not to.

“Well,” DuBois gave me a mischievous grin, “you’re a fascinating one, at least. Not what I was expecting, and I’m a generally curious person, but I haven’t quite figured you out yet.”

“I am private,” I admitted. “My name and fortune make that necessary.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do.” The cart eased to a stop, and we climbed out. “But to hear people tell it, you’ve changed since you’ve returned to Cape Hill.”

“Yes.” I gave him a direct look but kept my tone simple. “Losing nearly everything can have that effect.”

I went up the marble staircase and onto the patio, hearing his footsteps as he followed.

“I imagine so,” he commented. “If it’s of any consolation, I’ve only heard good things.”

Inside, I smiled, but I kept my expression fixed. “That is good to know. I have much to atone for, besides my wife’s death.”

I held open the door to the conservatory for him, but he paused at the threshold, staring up at me with surprise. “Oh?”

“I suspect I don’t have to tell a man as observant as you that the money and influence in this town can have a powerful effect on its residents. The people here are in a class of their own. Infallible and untouchable, and when accountability is removed, so are their inhibitions.” I did my best to affect a resigned tone. “I thought I was above reproach, and I’ve strived to do better, but this is how the rest of Cape Hill lives.”

DuBois stepped into the room, likely for no other reason than it was letting the air conditioning out. He scanned the space, which during Alice’s time here had been filled with plants and potted trees, but my housing staff had begun to scale back. It was more living space than greenhouse now.

“I’ve only been here a few days, but I find it intriguing—the history and culture of this place,” he mused while examining one of the African violets on the windowsill.

“Intriguing enough to write a book about it?”

He turned and gave a knowing smile. “Perhaps.”

The room was flooded with light and all the things we knew but weren’t saying. It was a different kind of negotiation than I typically participated in, but the rules were still the same. We both wanted something from the other, and neither of us needed to walk away from the table unsatisfied.

“If I were writing a book,” he sounded casual, “would you be interested in being a part of it?”

I feigned surprise and dismay. “As a subject?”

He ticked his head, playing up his ‘golly, gee, shucks’ persona. “As a consultant. I’m an outsider. It’d be good to have the point of view from the inside of Cape Hill, and who better than the man who rules over it?”

I saw through his attempt to flatter but pretended it’d worked. I paused as if considering. “I may be open to the idea.”

NINETEEN

SOPHIA

TEN DAYS IN A ROW OF USING THE VIBRATOR Macalister had given to me, and I worried I was going to burn my clit off. He had a habit of asking me about it right as I delivered his morning coffee, I think in hopes of making me spill. Did he want me to, so he could punish me?

He hadn’t touched me since I’d confessed the truth.

But in my nightly fantasies? Oh, yeah. He couldn’t keep his domineering hands off my body. Was he ever going to let that become reality?

He had given me very little detail on his discussion with DuBois either, other than to say it went well.

On Friday, there’d been a major dustup with the German branch and government regulations, so he’d gone with Royce to Berlin, and they hadn’t come back until late the following Thursday.

Which meant I wouldn’t see him until the premiere at the opera house tonight. At least, not in person. I’d still been texting him pictures for approval, and his second day in Germany I’d asked for a picture in return. I didn’t get to see him in the office, after all.

The picture came back five minutes later. It looked like he was standing in the lobby bathroom of an upscale hotel, wearing his steely blue suit with a gold and blue striped tie. The picture was slightly off center, and he was caught staring at the screen of his phone, a look of concentration on his face.


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