Luck of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #2)(53)

I’ve failed plenty of times in my life, but one thing I’ve never done is quit. I won’t let Indy walk away without a fight.

I shoot past the Boston Whaler as I veer toward the dock, letting off the throttle at the very last second, and coast up to the pier. The rub-rail of the Shiver gently bounces off the padded pylons as it connects.

Indy, dressed in cut-off jean shorts and a pink tank top, jerks her head from me to the Boston Whaler and then back to the Shiver. When the dark-haired woman rises from the passenger seat next to me and becomes visible for the first time, Indy’s eyes go wide.

She sets her jaw and her blue gaze turns frosty. “I expected a lot of things from you, Forge, but I didn’t expect you to find a replacement that quickly.” Her tone is even more frigid than her eyes. She shakes her head, the duffel bag on her shoulder swinging with her movement. “It’s a good thing I was already planning on getting out of your way.”

Goliath finishes tying up my tender, and I hop onto the dock as her escape vessel approaches.

“No, that’s not what this is at all,” I say, my words coming out gruff.

Indy looks away, her attention shifting to the captain of the other boat like she’s already dismissed my existence. “I don’t care what it is,” she replies, still giving me the side of her face instead of her eyes. “I’ll be gone in two minutes.”

The boat coasts up to the dock, piloted by some ginger fuck.

“Signorina! Your knight in shining armor is here!”

He laughs, and my first instinct is to jump on board his boat and beat him within an inch of his life for daring to try to take what’s mine. But I know that’s not going to help the situation.

Indy takes one step toward the other boat, and I move into her path.

“I’m sorry. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have tried to stop you.” It’s the most honest and sincere thing I can say, and the absolute truth.

Her chin juts out in that stubborn way of hers, and her skeptical stare finally cuts to my face. “It doesn’t matter anymore. This whole thing was a terrible idea to begin with. I was desperate. I would’ve married anyone to save my sister. That’s on me. It doesn’t matter that I was only ever a means to an end for you. I’m doing what needs to be done. It’s time to end this farce.”

She moves like she’s trying to step around me, and I move with her.

I reach out to touch her but stop myself when she jumps back. My fingers flex in protest, but I know I earned her reaction, and I have to fucking fix this.

“Give me one more fucking chance. Please.”

Her head tilts down, but her blue eyes are rimmed with red.

I hate that I fucking made her cry. I want to erase the lines on her brow that reveal the toll this has taken on her.

“Why should I?” she whispers.

“Because you’re not a means to an end anymore. You’re inside me. In my head. In the blood running through my fucking veins.” I clear my throat and take a small step toward her. “If you go, you take all that with you, along with my fucking sanity.”

Her eyelids flutter and her chin trembles, and I pray that I’ve made my case. But Indy bites down on her lip as her gaze slides past me to the Shiver.

“Who the hell is she?”

I totally forgot about the woman I begged to come with me. I whip around to acknowledge her.

“This is Sofia Russo. She’s here from Milan to outfit you with dresses for the grand prix in Prague. That is, if you’ll allow me to accompany you.”





54





India





My gaze skips between Forge and Sofia Russo. As soon as he said her name, I recognized her.

She’s not some hot young thing he brought to replace me in his bed before it was barely cold. She’s a ridiculously famous designer, and Summer’s always gone crazy over her dresses. She begged me to buy her one once, but even I couldn’t swallow the five-figure price tag for a dress. The biggest stars are always wearing her designs on the red carpet.

And Forge brought her here with dresses for the grand prix.

There has to be a catch. I step forward until we’re toe-to-toe.

“What’s your angle, Forge? What the hell are you getting out of this?”

Even as I ask the question, I know the answer won’t be the one I want to hear—that he’d do anything to keep me. That he’s wildly in love with me and doesn’t want to live without me. That he wants the kind of relationship Creighton and Holly have. A partnership. Something that will stand the test of time.

That’s not us. We’re not in love.

But as I think it, something pangs near my heart. Maybe that’s not the whole truth. I feel something for him too that I’ve never felt for anyone else.

“You’re my angle,” he replies.

His dark brows dive together and a V forms between them. His gray eyes remind me of storm clouds rolling in over the sea.

“I don’t want to be the man who only realizes what he had when it’s gone. And that doesn’t have a single fucking thing to do with any deal. I can buy steel from other people. It doesn’t have to be your father. If you never want to meet him or see him or speak to him, that’s your decision. All I want is a chance to make this right.”