Page 119 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

“Hot,” said Ellery, settling a cape of dark grey ostrich feathers over my shoulders—which I was glad for because the gown was made of basically nothing and held up by the strappiest of strappy straps.

“Well”—a smile crept tentatively over my mouth—“whatever else happens tonight, at least I’m fabulous.”

“Glass slippers not included, I’m afraid. There’s no way you’ll fit my shoes.”

“Shit.”

Hoiking the frock out of my way, I scrambled up the ladder to my room in search of suitable footwear. Of which I owned…let me see…at my last count, taking into account the current rate of inflation…zero. Why the fuck wasn’t I a drag queen?

A horn honked outside. George.

Some rescue attempt this was going to be if I turned up too late because I didn’t have any shoes. Well, fuck it. I dragged on my rainbow glittery Docs, laced them up hastily, and managed to get down from the mezzanine without ripping my dress or breaking my neck.

“How do I look?” I asked, pausing self-consciously in front of Ellery.

She surveyed me from head to combat-booted toes. “Perfect.”

And that was all the encouragement I needed. Holding my cloak tightly around me, I plunged into the night, where George—looking very formidably gorgeous in a tuxedo and all the fixings, with a white scarf around her neck—was waiting for me in the Jag. She gave a low whistle as I tumbled into the front seat.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather save me, poppet?”

I yanked the seat belt into place. “What do you need saving from?”

“I’m sure I could think of something.”

I was spared from having to come up with a pithy reply because she put the car into gear and we roared into motion. Apart from an attempt to say thank you, which she dismissed, I was pretty quiet for the ride, my thoughts opaque even to myself. It was a relief that they pulled only intermittently to Steyne, though I could have done without them going there at all.

Probably I should have been putting together a kind of…I don’t know…action plan. But how could I prepare for something I could barely imagine? Or if I did imagine, made my heart want to curl up and die. What was Nathaniel thinking? And what had possessed him to go to Steyne? Of all people. Knowing what he had done to Caspian. Surely he must have recognised that it was a betrayal of the deepest order. An act of cruelty, pure and simple—like the one he intended to inflict tonight.

Yet Nathaniel wasn’t cruel. At least, not the way Steyne was. Not the way my father was. I wanted so much to hate him. To blame him. And part of me was definitely furious with him. But the problem was, I could see this too clearly for what it was—not an act of intentional destruction, but one of desperation. I’d been too wrapped up in my own hurt to notice before. Thought him possessive, insecure, self-righteous, and uptight, and hadn’t understood he was breaking too. The interview. The dinner. The art gallery. The car park. He’d been nothing but an obstacle to me. A mistake someone else was making. But all this time he’d been afraid.

And so utterly alone.

Losing the man he loved in ways he couldn’t hope to understand.

Chapter 40

George had masks in the glove box—plain back for her and, by pure chance, silver filigree for me.

“You do realise,” said George very softly, “he might not thank you for this?”

“I know.”

“People can only really help themselves.”

“Then”—I stared at my Docs, glittering cheerfully from beneath the hem of the gown—“I’m going to help him do that.”

She laughed. “I’ve never had much patience for people like Hart. Self-loathing is such a masturbatory vice. But I’m starting to think he might have something a little special, after all.”

“What’s that?”

Leaning over the gear stick, she kissed me—the gesture oddly chaste. “You, poppet. Now let’s go, or there’ll be no oysters left, and then I’ll be obliged to fuck someone just to pass the time.”

We left the car and crunched up a gravel drive to what I was sufficiently spoiled by high living to consider a generic Kensington mansion. A word from George to one of the solid-looking gentlemen waiting by the pillar-flanked front door and we were inside.

“Um.” I took a skittish step closer to her. “Why is everyone staring at us?”

She helped me out of my cloak and draped it over her arm, a gesture I very much appreciated, since it wassome of us are getting naked soonhot in there. “Because I’m me and you’re delectable.”