Carter Reed 2 (Carter Reed #2)

“Amanda.” There’d be a night when Theresa would come home early and find Amanda gone, even if she did eventually agree to move in with Noah. She’d find out. “She’s going to know, at some point. You’re not going to keep it a secret. What then?” My voice cracked as I realized I couldn’t trust either of the two friends I still had in my life. “Do I worry about her encouraging you to come clean? About throwing me under the bus?”


“What?” She sounded horrified. “No. My god, no, Emma. How could you—how could you think that of me?”

Because that was where this road was going. How could I be the only one to see it? “It doesn’t matter. It’s done. You love him, and I can see that you really do. I…” had to go. Without saying another word, I took my purse and left.

The hallway was so quiet. The building was quiet. It had never bothered me before, but I had never felt so alone as when I walked to the elevator and out the door. When I stepped outside, I remembered I hadn’t called ahead for the car.

Thomas materialized at my side.

It didn’t matter. They were already there anyway, and he opened the back door for me. I slid in, and when he started to get in beside me, I stopped him. “Please. Can I be alone?”

He pulled back, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but he nodded and shut the door. The front passenger door opened a moment later and I envisioned the three grown men squashed together on the other side of the barrier—the driver and the two guards together.

Another time, I would’ve grinned at that image, but not tonight.

I wasn’t paying attention to the drive, so when the car stopped and my door opened, I was surprised to find we weren’t in Carter’s basement garage. I stared at a private plane, the stairs already extended and waiting. I looked to Thomas. “What’s going on?”

“Carter called. He’d like for you to join him in New York.”

“Oh.” For a moment, I thought he might be coming down those stairs, and I’d be in his arms in a matter of seconds. Sweeping that disappointment aside, I nodded and started forward. “Okay. My clothes?”

“He’ll have clothes there for you.”

Of course. He provided for me. Everywhere. Always. I never needed to question that. I walked up the stairs, ducked inside the plane, and went to the back. As I curled into the bed, Thomas and another three guards took their seats. I didn’t question where the other guard had come from. They always appeared, but I had a feeling that Thomas had called Carter. He could tell I was upset. And instead of coming to me, Carter was having me flown to him.

It didn’t matter, however it came to be. I lay in the bed and closed my eyes, knowing I’d soon be in his arms. That was where I needed to be.

But I wasn’t going to tell him about Amanda. I couldn’t. I felt too scared of what he would do. Not yet. I promised myself that. Not yet. And as the plane started down the runway, I was able to sleep.

When I woke, Carter was sliding his arms underneath me and picking me up. He cradled me against his chest as he carried me from the plane and into the back of another car. Burrowing my head to his shoulder, I let the sleep overtake me, and it wasn’t long until I woke once more in an elevator. Then we were in a room, and he slid into bed behind me.

He pulled me once more to his chest.

“I love you,” I murmured.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and said, “I love you, too. Sleep, Emma.”

I did.

When I woke, Carter was gone and the whole night felt like a strange dream—or nightmare. It was daylight now, and I had to figure out what to do. But first, coffee.

Padding barefoot down the hallway, I let my nose lead me to a dining room large enough to fit a pool. It was grand. Carter had nice things, but this place was the definition of extravagance. I glanced through the floor-to-ceiling windows and decided this was an apartment, probably a penthouse. I also noticed we were in the heart of Manhattan and forgot the coffee for a moment. Going to the window, I stood and basked in the view. It was so much. I’d been to New York for work, but never like this.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?”

I turned and found myself staring at the second-most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in person. Carter was first, always first. This guy was almost his opposite in some ways. He had sleek dark hair, cut short, dark, almond eyes, and a lean face like Carter’s. He also had a model’s chiseled features and a physique Theresa would’ve pretended to faint over. He was similar in height to Carter—over six feet with broad shoulders and a lean waist. Actually, he was slightly leaner than Carter. As he moved toward me, I was surprised. He moved like Carter, like a ghost.

I knew without a doubt that this man was why Carter had been in New York so much.

“The view?” I remembered his question.

He handed me a cup of coffee and backed away, leaning against the counter and folding his arms over his chest. I knew what he was doing—trying to diminish his presence so I wouldn’t be so intimidated. I grinned, but didn’t comment. He could think I was easily swayed by a simple body posture. Instead, I took a whiff of that coffee and almost climaxed. It was heaven.

He laughed, tilting his head to the side. “Carter said you liked coffee. I didn’t realize how much.”