Page 2

EMORY

I should run.

Absolutely not. I dig my nails into my hand. Aiden and I can do this here just as well as we can in the gardens.

He stalks forward, each movement graceful and menacing.

Hunters never falter.

Hunters never cry.

Hunters never fail.

I tip my chin and wait for him to arrive in front of me.

Those soft lips are pressed flat.

Those hazel eyes glitter like gemstones.

And the very first thought my traitorous brain makes is damn, he got hotter.

I scowl, more at myself than at him, and he glares right back.

“Hello, little Hunter.” His deep voice rolls over me, and suddenly the air feels charged. My vision is clearer and my thoughts sharper.

So it’s back to this , my gaze says. Little Hunter.

I used to be able to read Aiden’s thoughts in his eyes. We were mysteriously aligned for two people who wanted to run each other over with our cars. No longer. Now all I see is that gold and green gaze that always looked like precious gems and is about as warm as them too.

“Aiden.” I smile at him, that smirky smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. He hated that smile in college. His shoulders would go all tight and his eyes would narrow—yep. He still hates it.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a bathroom.”

“In a gown.” His voice is dry. “Looks suspiciously like you wanted to sneak into my party.” He leans against the wall and cocks his head as he watches me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.

This is my workwear.” Five-inch stilettos and a black dress.

I look hot, and the reminder pulls my spine straighter.

My hair is braided over my head and my lips are painted the color of blood.

I hope Aiden imagines me biting into his jugular every time he looks at my mouth.

“Terrorizing the good people of Hart’s Hill is what passes for work these days?”

I narrow my eyes on him. Fuck Aiden Prince. “Someone has to do it. The souls of small children won’t consume themselves.”

“No children here. Run along.” His eyes are unreadable in the dim light of the hallway.

“I came to talk to you, actually.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Ready to beg me?”

I swallow my pride. It tastes like ash going down. “If that’s what it takes,” I grit out.

He smiles—short, sharp, and entirely without pleasure. “Excellent. In here.” He gestures to the right, where the door is cracked and shadows spill out, darker than the hallway.

“Can’t we do this outside?”

He doesn’t respond, just strides forward and pushes open the door.

I sigh and follow him into the room. He flicks on the lamps and leans against the desk.

It’s a study. I glance around with interest. It’s full of old books, stuffed armchairs, and a massive oak desk.

The seat of Prince power. I itch to sit behind it.

I’m halfway across the room before Aiden’s voice cracks through the silence.

“You came to beg?”

I pause in front of the desk, where he leans like he owns the world. He might as well. He’s a king. In his world, he’s unmatched. The most powerful family. The oldest son. The Heir.

“I came to deal,” I say tartly.

His eyes flare with interest. At one point, I suspected Aiden wanted to mend the feud, and I hope like hell he hasn’t forgotten that in the past decade.

“What do you have to offer me?”

I consider him. This is the closest I’ve been to him in ten years.

On the outside, he looks similar to the boy I knew in high school and college, but I don’t know this Aiden.

He’s broader now. Still lean, but more muscular.

His body fills out his evening jacket in the way his body in college promised to do.

His eyes are harder than I remember, as if his manners and his intelligence have been honed into something more dangerous.

I still feel that same pit in my stomach when I look at him.

Aiden is way too tall and way too pretty.

He has a way of making you feel unpolished in his presence—like you thought you were a diamond, but really, you’re just a crystal, and he’s the real thing.

His shoulders are broad, but not too broad.

His hands are elegant, and his face classically handsome, even if his lips are too full, and his bearing is that of a king.

When he speaks, people listen.

I’ve never hated someone more.

“An end to the feud,” I say slowly. “I found something.”

His gaze sharpens. “Found what?”

I reach into my evening bag and pull out the age-worn piece of paper. He reaches for it, and I jerk it back.

“I was going through old records in town hall, trying to uncover anything I could use to take our land back.”

“ Our land.” He bares his teeth.

I ignore him and raise the paper in the air. “I found this. I’ll let you read it. I have photocopies, so don’t even think about burning it or eating it or something.”

His head jerks back. “You think I’d do that?”

“I think you’d do whatever it takes for this land, just like I would.” I raise my brows at him.

He gives a short nod, and I pass him the paper.

He dips his hand into the pocket of his tux and pulls out a pair of glasses before he starts to read.

I try my very best not to look at him with the glasses on.

They take him from model-perfect to touchable.

Like a fuckable professor, except he’d never do that.

The stick is wedged too far up his ass for him to have sex.

“This is—” His words cut off as he continues to read. “Unexpected.”

I let him finish. It’s about to get a whole lot worse. For me, not for him, since he’s already decided to take a wife. He probably decided over dinner one night.

Yes, Hamish, I imagine him telling his butler. I’ve decided I’ll have a wife. Yes, next week will do nicely. Make sure she has impeccable breeding and all of her teeth.

His eyes are calculating when he raises his head. “Why are you showing this to me?”

My brows lower. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re getting married. I’ll get married, and we’ll split the land. That’s what the paper says. The land goes to a married Prince and Hunter.”

The fifty-two acres of prime Hart’s Hill real estate that sit between our businesses have been under dispute for a hundred years.

No one has been able to find the original deed, and without the deed, we can’t do anything with the land.

Except split it up, of course. But that would require coming to terms, not coming to blows.

He cocks his head. “Who’s marrying you?”

“Oh, fuck you, Aiden.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. Do you have a fiancé?”

The words make heat rise to my face. “No. Not yet. I’ll find someone.” The roster of potential candidates is dismal. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t remember the last real date I went on or the last time I felt a spark.

He makes a considering sound. I don’t like that sound.

That’s the sound of someone who has something up his sleeve.

I look back at his face. Up close, I can see that his perfect facade is marred.

While every inch of him is stamped with belonging, from the way his suit molds to his chest to the shininess of his shoes, today, the lines are blurred.

His tie is askew, as if he donned it hastily, and his chestnut hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging on it.

Prince Charming is losing it.

“Would your family agree to split the land?” He tilts his head.

“I’d make them. They’d see reason. Half a priceless plot is better than nothing.

And the feud is bad for both of our families.

” A hundred years of feuding, each side unwilling to give an inch.

And on the table? The only available lot of this size in Hart’s Hill.

The value is probably close to fifty million dollars, but it’s worth more than that to each of us.

“I don’t know,” he drawls. “Feuding gives me a reason to get up in the morning.”

“Come on.” I roll my eyes. “You like spending your time bribing the town board to deny us building permits?”

“You’re bribing them?” His voice is incredulous.

Oops.

“You’re not?”

He barks a humorless laugh and runs a hand through his hair. “No, of course I’m not.”

“You could learn a thing or two from me, then, golden boy.”

“I’m still on top, evil queen.” There’s a bare hint of a smile on his mouth. “Just the way I like it.”

“I bet you do. Boring. Two pumps and you’re done.”

His gemstone eyes bore into me. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I shudder, even as heat flares inside me. “Definitely not.”

He scans my face, his expression turning thoughtful. “All right,” he says slowly. “So let’s get married.”

The words take longer than usual to register in my brain. One second, I’m wondering if strangling him with my bare hands would be efficient or if he’d take it as foreplay, and the next, he’s asking me to marry him.

“Come again?” I blink at him.

He smirks. “Want to get married?”

“Not really.”

“Great. Me neither.” His smile grows at my obvious discomfort. I don’t remember the last time Aiden Prince voluntarily smiled at me. It should be alarming. Instead, it makes heat crawl beneath my skin.

“What’s your game?”

He shakes his head. “No game.”

I narrow my eyes. He crosses his arms. I cross mine. It’s decidedly less imposing on me. His biceps still press against his evening coat in the same way that drew my eye in college.

“Let me explain this to you in very small words. You are a good person .” I use air quotes, and his jaw flexes.

“You hate me. I hate you. Technically, I’m not even allowed to be in your house.

Our families have hated each other for a hundred years.

This can never be a thing. I know I’m hot.

But walking on the wild side is very much not for you.

So tell me anything else you want, and I’ll be gone. ”

Aiden raises his brows. “You done?” His voice is low and commanding, and fuck, I hate how it makes me feel. Like the vibrations of it in the room are caressing my skin. If I’d been born a man, I’d murder for a voice like that.

I glare at him. He’s wasting my time. Toying with me.

He holds the paper out. “You misread it.”

I still. “Excuse me?”

“You misread the deed. I’m not surprised.” His voice is lazy and cold. “It’s very like you to see only what you want to see and gloss over the details.” Arrogant. So fucking arrogant.

“Who was valedictorian, you or me?” I pull the tattered shreds of my pride around me. It was the last time I beat Aiden.

His eyes flicker with hatred. “You, little thief.”

Little thief. “You’re just mad you got caught cheating.” The one and only time he did something bad, as far as I know. Other than humiliate me behind my back. Otherwise, he’s the perfect heir. Good and upstanding and moral to the point of looking down on others. Everything I’m not.

He thrusts the paper out more firmly. “I’m a lawyer. Reread the deed. It doesn’t say we need to be married.” He smiles grimly. “It says we need to be married to each other.”