Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
It got worse.
She touched the door, hesitating. Should she say something? Try to get Keira to talk to her? Sloan had always been good at listening, but broaching this subject was going to reopen wounds that hadn’t even had a chance to close, much less heal.
So she kept walking.
Carrigan’s door opened as she approached, and her older sister stepped into the hall, wearing a sheath dress that left little to the imagination. She froze when she saw Sloan. “You’re up late.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
For a second she thought—hoped—Carrigan would let it go. She obviously had plans to sneak out, and her skin nearly twitched with impatience. But then she stepped back into her room. “Let’s talk.”
More talking. Sloan let loose a silent sigh and obeyed. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner she could retreat into her room and lose herself in a book. It was the only escape that worked these days, the only thing that took away the harsh edge of reality.
Carrigan perched on the edge of her bed and gave her a long look. “Father’s decided that he’s tired of waiting for me.”
She’d known this was coming. They all had. Her sister’s ability to hold him off for this long was something to be commended, but it couldn’t last forever. “How long?” It felt curiously like she was asking how long Carrigan had left to live.
“My birthday.”
Her breath stalled in her chest. “But…” Sloan looked down at her hands, fighting to get the words past the concrete block in her throat. “Marriage.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that it had worked out for Teague—to maybe even suggest that Carrigan would get the same results—but she stopped. Their brother had been fortunate to the point of unbelievability. Lightning never struck the same place twice, and those were the odds for Carrigan to make a love match from the list of men their father had provided.
“I know.” Carrigan took her hands. “I didn’t drag you in here so we could have a pity party. Things are the way they are. I just wanted to give you as much of a heads-up as I could.”
Because she was next.
The realization settled inside her, turning her blood to ice and her brain into a worthless buzz. As soon as Carrigan was safely carted away into a marriage, their father would turn his eye on her. She’d never pretended the Catholic devotion that her sister had, not to the point where it would be believable that she was considering joining a convent. Even if she had, their father wasn’t likely to fall for the same ruse twice. No, he’d strike quickly, while she was still young enough to be valuable. Pliable.
“It doesn’t matter if I see it coming or not. It’s inevitable.” It seemed like her feet had been set on this path from birth. She’d never put much thought into it before, and now her time was up. What am I going to do with a husband?
“Sloan…” Carrigan hesitated, and then seemed to change what she’d been about to say. “I’m sorry.”
She managed to squeeze her sister’s hands back, even though her fingers were numb. “Don’t be sorry. Go enjoy your night.”
“Do you want to come with me?”
She would have laughed if she had the breath for it. “You know how much I hate those clubs. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” A lie, but one Carrigan let her have. Sometimes it seemed there were more comforting lies than truths between them now.
“We’ll talk more soon.”
What was the point? They could talk for days on end, but it wouldn’t change their circumstances. Helpless fury rose inside her. She was well and truly trapped, up to her neck in quicksand and sinking fast.
God, what am I going to do?
CHAPTER FOUR
Carrigan stepped into the club and tried to tell herself that she was here for the right reasons. It had nothing to do with looking for James, and everything to do with proving to herself she wasn’t afraid. Because she wasn’t. The only reason he’d gotten the best of her was because he kept catching her off guard. That wouldn’t happen tonight. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she scanned the crowd, searching for that towering blond figure.
Nothing.
Ignoring the feeling that might have been disappointment souring her stomach, she wound through the dance floor and headed for the stairs leading to the VIP area. She needed a drink and to get her head on straight, and then she’d go dance until she forgot what she’d agreed to earlier today.
Just like she always had.
And maybe she’d finally break her four-month-long dry spell…
She shook her head and climbed the stairs. No. Not tonight, and not a guy from here. It hadn’t worked out so well last time, and she sure as hell wasn’t looking for a repeat kidnapping. At the top of the stairs, she paused and let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Up here, there were no strobe lights or black lights or anything other than tiny lamps on each of the tables, throwing off just enough illumination so that someone could walk the entire floor without tripping over something. In theory.