Page 46 of Secret Pleasure (Bound Hearts 13)

Sitting back, she read the text reply to the request for a few days.

Do you think we’ll accept that? You should know better!

Oh, how arrogant, she thought, rather pleased by the reply, though she wasn’t certain why.

Go to hell [she texted in reply].

Where the fuck do you think we’ve been? We live there, dammit.

Poor babies, she thought caustically. Didn’t she just feel so sorry for them?

Alyssa, ignoring us is not a good idea! You know it’s not! Alyssa, damn you, answer me!

She placed the phone next to Alyssa’s hand.

“Good-bye, girl,” she whispered.

Picking up her purse, she left the room. She had a date with Harvey, and she would be taking him straight to hell.

Summer would have to care for Alyssa now.

MARGOT’S FUNERAL

FIVE DAYS LATER

Margot Hampstead’s funeral was attended by damned near every politician Senator Hampstead knew and their family. They might not have liked Margot, but many had respected her. Most had feared her, but they had known they could depend upon her to keep her word.

Sitting in the limo that had joined the procession to the grave site, Shane and Sebastian watched for Alyssa. Whoever stood next to the senator resembled Alyssa enough, considering she was hiding behind a black veil. She was the same height and build, but it wasn’t Alyssa.

Just as whoever was texting from Alyssa’s phone wasn’t her, either. At first they hadn’t been so certain; now there was no doubt.

Sebastian glanced at the latest texts on the phone.

Go back to Spain. U R not wanted here!

Not at any time on any text had Alyssa ever used text spelling. It was typical spelling all the way without a single typo.

Liar, answer my fucking call.

Suck my dick!

And she damned sure knew better than to write anything so explicit.

Alyssa wasn’t crass, she wasn’t explicit, unless encouraged by him or Shane and only then during the height of arousal. She was a lady. Soft, sweet, but with a steel spine.

He turned the phone to Shane.

His cousin read it, reread it; then his lips flattened in anger.

“That’s not Alyssa,” he stated, certain now.

“And the woman at Margot Hampstead’s grave site isn’t Alyssa, either.” He nodded to the mourners. “She resembles her in height and build close enough; I’ll give her that. But the way she stands is too self-conscious. She’s scared of being revealed as an imposter. And the senator’s not comfortable in the least with the way she’s tucking herself against his chest.”

That one was almost amusing, Sebastian thought, before turning his gaze back to Shane. “Have you located her phone yet?”

His cousin turned a surprised look on him. “Finished that hours ago. I have a lock on it and it hasn’t left one particular room downstairs, along the back of the house. We’ll go in tonight.”

Sebastian nodded silently. No doubt they’d find their texter there. There was no way Alyssa would turn her phone over to someone else to text for her, and they knew it. And tonight, by God, he’d find out how someone was managing to do it.