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352 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published September 30, 2014
Perhaps it was his general defenselessness, or exhaustion, but the thought of Ryan Kaminski slipped into his skull like an assassin.
He couldn't count that night as a mistake. It was the first time a woman had slept with him without knowing his family. Without one eye on his connections and his money.
Ryan had picked him, for him. And not at his best. At the very lowest point in his life, she'd held out a hand.
What kind of person did that?
What kind of person found such weakness and confusion interesting? And not just a little... What had happened in that room had destroyed him. It wasn't just the incredible sex, but the honesty. The honesty had been addictive and erotic and rare. So rare he hadn't realized what a kingdom of lies and half-truths he ruled, until meeting her.
And ironically, he'd liked to her. A lie by omission was still a lie. Maybe worse because of its intrinsic cowardice.
It was one thing to cling to the mysterious woman and that charged night life a lifeboat while waiting to find out if his sister was alive or dead, but they were returning to the real world. Real life.
And in real life he was Harrison Montgomery, the favorite son of a fifth generation political family out of Atlanta. And in three months about to be a congressman. The representative in the House for Georgia's fifth congressional district.
His father was finishing up his last term as governor of Georgia, and appropriately going down with the sinking boat of corruption and scandal that had been his life's work.
And in order to wipe the mud off his family name, to return some pride to his sister and himself and future Montgomery generations, Harrison's role, his mission, was to be without weakness. To give no rumors the chance to find foothold, no reporter trying to make his name even the slightest whiff of scandal.
And his night with Ryan to the outside eye was nothing but scandalous.
That night was an anomaly. Best forgotten.
personally, it was far more than hard feelings between him and Ted- there was a cavern of disappointment and anger. Of Disgust.
Some men were created in the image of their father. Harrison grew up in his father's negative space. In the holes Ted had left behind. Harrison was who he was in spite and to spite his father.
That slightly raised eyebrow, those pursed lips as if she's smelled something bad, but was too polite to say it- that was the mother of his childhood. The mother with the expression that said don't come to me with your minor fears and heartbreaks. I would rather not be bothered by your desire for attention or affection.
As a kid he'd been baffled by that look on her face, because she didn't look that way when they were in public. She gave her kindness to strangers, saved her chill for him and Ashley.
So effective was that face of hers, that vague air of disappointment and disinterest, that he just stopped wanting anything from her.
She laughed. She laughed so hard she had to brace her hand against the counter, accidentally knocking her pretty red teacup into the sink, where it shattered. But even that didn't stop her from laughing.
"I'm not kidding."
"And that makes it even more funny. Listen, Harrison, you broke into my apartment. Called me stupid. All but accused me of being gold-digging whore. I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth."
He lifted his hand to touch her shoulder, but she flinched away from him before he could. It had been instinctive. Uncontrollable. A safety measure.
Well, that's a problem.
In the doorway, Patty saw how she'd flinched, and paused. "You have to touch him," she said.
He eyes were bright, and if Patty were a different kind of woman, Ryan might think she had tears in her eyes. "If you want people to believe you love him, then you have to touch him. You have to smile and hold his hand no matter how you feel about him. Or what he's done." She swallowed, her hand at her stomach. A strange moment of weakness. "Or how he's hurt you."
she knew nothing of him. Nothing at all.
I can't do this, she thought. I can't spend every minute of my life playing some kind of chess match with this man, wondering what is real and what isn't.
She hated the very thought of it, a future spent on high alert, looking for weaknesses to exploit just to wound him. Just to find the human being beneath that facade of his- it made her feel like she was drowning.
"If this is going to work," she said, pressing her hand against the cool glass and then her forehead, "to the world outside, we'll like our faces off. But you and I..."
The words Let's be kind. We've both been hurt enough wouldn't come out of her mouth into the horrible coldness between them.
"No lies between us?" he supplied.
She nodded and whispered, feeling more painfully vulnerable than she had all night, "No lies between us."
Mother lifted dry, ravaged eyes to his and he flinched from all that was revealed.
"Don't," he said, before she opened her mouth. He could not take her apology now, years too late when she had nothing left to lose.
"Son," Mother whispered, "we're so sorry you got dragged into this-"
"Don't pretend to be pained on my behalf," he snapped, the freeze giving way under fire. Under a terrible burning anger. Being angry with his parents was safe. It was familiar. It was totally okay, and he latched onto that with a vicious kind of glee. "I've been a prop my entire life. You've manufactured your sympathy in whatever passes for your heart because that is the emotion some polling group told you to feel when your son loses everything he has spent his whole life working for."
Mother's ravaged guilt turned to surprise, and if he hasn't spent thirty-two years in her company, he might have believed her. "Is that what you think? That I am pretending to feel bad for you?"
"Yes, Mother," he said. "That is what I think. That is what I have been taught to expect from you. Don't break character now."
"I think... we, you, me, and Wes, we got real good at hiding all the things that make us loveable," Nora said. "All the softness and all the... sweetness, because it hurt when Mom died. Because being soft and sweet wouldn't put food on the table. We hid those things so well we forgot where we put them. But you got plenty in you that's loveable, Ryan. I'm sorry I, or Paul or anyone, made you feel different."
Ryan grabbed her sister's hand again, clung to it across the old table.
She still seemed dubious and he thought of how badly he'd botched it between them. After the election and then upstairs in her room. She deserved better, so with both hands he tore open the box where he'd kept everything he felt. All those things he'd tried to make go way because no one in his life ever valued them.
"I've been far from happy for so long. But you made me feel good and whole for the first time in my life. You made me feel like I was worth more than I'd ever thought I was. I want that back."
"You made me feel that way too," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I saw the person I could be with you, and that was exciting. And I wanted that. The food bank and going back to school and being part of your team. But I can be that person without you, too."
The silence between them was broken by the squeal of the back steps as Harrison made his appearance, wearing his suit pants and bourbon-stained, white shirt. He was scruffy and bloodshot and coming down the steps of her childhood home, where she'd dreamed vivid dreams about love and Prince Charming, and her solid and cold heart was not impervious.
It wanted him. Her stupid heart. Her stupid body- both wanted him. Thank God her brain knew better and was driving this ship.
I am my own damn Prince Charming.