Wishing Well(82)

Tension traced across her bones. He can’t know. There’s no possible way.

Reaching as far as the shackles would allow him, Vincent could only touch the tip of his finger to her chin. She wanted to straighten her posture, to stop curling her body over the edge of the table just so she could move out of reach. But, yet, that small bit of contact comforted her more than she wanted to admit.

“How could you let Maurice die?” she asked, pure agony coating her words.

“I didn’t mean to. I did everything I could to help him. He’s why I walk voluntarily to my death. But that’s not what we need to discuss at the moment, is it? We have time for that after locking in the final piece of this tragic puzzle.”

Meadow lifted her eyes, the truth of her secret written clearly across her face.

“Barron finding your sister, the choice of which night Maurice and I would go to the garden, those weren’t the only factors with perfect timing, were they? There was one more factor that added to this fairytale ending, and I think it’s only fair you tell me.”

Her eyes locked to his, gold-flecked brown meeting the emerald green as all veils and pretenses were torn aside, the secrets finally being revealed.

Vincent blinked, his dark lashes a fan across his skin for only a moment before the green pinned her again.

“How is it your sister was at the hotel that night? And why did you choose to run after witnessing what happened, Penelope ?”

Heart seizing, she clenched her eyes shut, opening them again to see him staring at her with knowledge written into the color.

“You know?” she asked, her mind drowning in disbelief.

Vincent simply nodded his head. “I’ve known since the moment you first entered this room to start the interview. I’ve known the entire time.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT


Penny


Vincent left the room with his shoulders shaking. Lately it seemed he no longer got his enjoyment by torturing me with games, but rather by torturing me with making suggestions Maurice would take to heart. Five seconds ago and we’d merely been eating lunch, even if messily so due to Maurice’s fun in force feeding me. But now, the beautiful man with glimmering green eyes was staring at me like I’d become the meal he would eat, the food on the table no longer holding his interest.

“What’s a reverse cowgirl?” he asked, his head tilting slightly to the side.

My face fell into my palms. Mumbling against my hands, I answered, “It’s nothing. Just forget Vincent ever said anything.”

Deep laughter floated across the table, his hand reaching out to tug mine from my face. “It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

Shaking my head in disbelief, I laughed along with him. “I’ll teach you what it is after our walk in the garden tonight. Deal?”

Cocking a brow, he smirked. “Deal. But what can you teach me now?”

When he looked at me like that, I wanted nothing more than to grab his face between my hands and kiss him until we were both breathless. But for as long as we’d been ‘friends’, he still hadn’t allowed me that one bit of intimacy. Sex, Maurice could handle. In fact, it was a demand he made several times a day. But kissing, he wasn’t there yet. I didn’t know if it was a trust thing and I’d asked Vincent if he understood why Maurice had that issue. Even Vincent didn’t know. The only guess he could make was that the last person Maurice had willingly let kiss him had been their mother.

And then a few months later, she’d died.

So, perhaps it was fear - a fear I was determined to show him was misplaced. Vincent had given me some ridiculous speech about how a kiss gives life or brings death, whatever the hell that meant, but I refused to let Maurice continue walling himself off from any of the best experiences in life.

So, at night while he was sleeping, I would kiss him all over his face. And one day, I would do it when his eyes were open, when he was looking at me like I was his world, when I’d finally reached a point with him that he could trust I would never leave his side.

“I can teach you patience,” I answered, grinning like an idiot to see the content expression of his ridiculously beautiful face. It wasn’t fair how handsome both Maurice and Vincent were, and perhaps Maurice’s issues, those problems that kept him apart, had been a favor to the women of the world. Dealing with one was enough to suck you into a vortex of sensual confusion and leave you with the inability to breathe, but if these two had ever gone out on the town together, I knew there would have been a slew of broken hearts left in their wake.

“Patience? Why?”

“Because I need to get a shower and I have errands I need to run today,” I explained, my sister on my mind.

It had been a few weeks since I last sent an email and after stopping by the Internet cafe to answer whatever messages Meadow had sent me, I had every intention of stopping by a store to purchase a phone with the earnings from my last paycheck. No longer concerned that Vincent would boot me onto the streets, I wanted to make my life more convenient. Why I hadn’t bought one weeks ago was beyond my understanding, but perhaps my own fear of what could happen with Vincent’s mercurial moods had made me a bit too leery of draining her savings.

His moods didn’t matter anymore. Nothing would strip me away from Maurice.

Concern edged his eyes. “Will you be back in time for the walk?”