Page 119 of Lawless Rivals

“Depends who’s askin’.”

“Christina Montclair, calling on behalf of Mr. Harrington’s legal team. Mr. Harrington has signed the contract your solicitor sent over. It’s being returned via courier this morning.”

“He signed?”

“He did. We’ll be collecting Miss Harrington in one hour.”

As I drop the phone from my ear, Rafe shoves his chair back to stand. “He fucking signed, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

I drag a hand over my scruff and exhale a long breath. Dane heads to the cupboard and pulls out a bottle of whiskey.

“That deserves a drink.” He unscrews the cap while I sit there, the smile still on my face not reaching anywhere else.

Harrington finally signed the land over to me.

Only thing is: this isn’t the end.

Because the land’s not enough anymore.

Chapter 31

Keira

His side of the bed is cold and empty when I reach out for him.

Flashes of what we did together through the night hit me. From his hand at my throat to the way he fucked me hard then slow, and after his arm rested across my waist holding me in place next to him.

I push the duvet off and sit up.

“Saint?”

I listen for him, holding still long enough to catch a noise.

After a beat, I get out of bed because nothing comes, and I notice that he’d folded my clothes on a chair in the corner of his room.

I stare at them in a daze before picking them up and heading into the bathroom.

The mirror catches me as soon as I move inside. Sex has left my hair tangled, my lips slightly swollen, and a red mark is just visible above my collarbone.

Cold water spills over my hands but does nothing to settle my wild pulse.

Saint Tallon is a man who could break my heart.

I brace against the sink and close my eyes for a beat, steadying myself before washing and dressing.

It doesn’t matter how much I fancy him if he still sees me as a piece to move on the board.

Morning light streams across the kitchen counter in pale strips. A glass sits by the sink, untouched.

The rest of the cabin looks exactly as it did yesterday, as if nothing had happened here at all.

I go to the fridge, grab a bottle of water, and drink some.

The thought of making myself a coffee feels too domesticated. I’d be acting like I’m his girlfriend who just spent the night and can phone for a taxi whenever I want.

He probably expects me to stay inside and wait for him to decide, but I want to know now.