Page 39 of Break My Rules
“With work? No,” Annabelle looks thoughtful. “But I suppose he has the same instincts as his father, that sort of animal drive to be the alpha dog: crush his enemies, seduce every beautiful woman around… The thrill of conquest, and all that jazz.”
I pause, filing that information away. Did his urge for conquest drive Max to kidnap Wren, in some kind of twisted show of dominance and power?
“Saint said he’s traveling right now,” I reply. “You must miss him.”
Annabelle trills a laugh. “Miss the drinking and debauchery, and his stinky hungover morning breath? No thank you. He has his fun, and I have mine.”
“And you’re OK with that?” I ask, thinking of that woman I saw Max with, in Oxford. The glamorous brunette who most definitely wasn’t his fiancée.
“More than OK, darling,” Annabelle replies, lifting her leg from the water and admiring the bright purple pedicure. “It’s the only way to make a relationship work, long-term. You both have to have your freedom, otherwise things just get stale and stifling. Let Max frolic in the South of France all he wants, I know he’ll always come back home to me. With some gorgeous Van Cleef diamonds to make it up to me, I’m sure.”
Annabelle flashes another bright smile, but I swear I see some tension in her eyes. Maybe she’s not so relaxed about Max fucking around, and this is just her way of keeping her pride. Or perhaps I’m projecting my own feelings onto her, because I know I could never be that relaxed about Saint seeing other women. Even the idea of it makes me feel a sharp slice of jealousy. Wild, sexy games are one thing, but cheating?
No way.
Annabelle gives me a knowing smile. “So, things really are heating up with Saint then, if he’s tempting you down to London all the time.”
I nod, feeling a little bashful. “I’m still trying to figure out how I fit in his life, how he would fit in mine…”
Especially since my mission could wind up tearing apart one of his oldest friendships.
Annabelle gives another vague wave. “Don’t worry about that sort of thing. There are only three questions that matter in a relationship. Does he worship the ground you walk on? And is the sex good enough?”
I laugh. “Yes…. And yes,” I admit, blushing.
Good enough? Try mind-blowingly, panty meltingly out of this world.
Annabelle claps her hands together in delight. “Well, he ought to, given the man’s reputation,” she says with a smirk.
“Wait, what’s the third thing?” I ask. “You said there were three questions that matter.”
“Oh, yes.” Annabelle pauses, and that flash of tension returns on her face. “Do you get what you need from him?” she asks simply. “If you do, well… That has to be enough, doesn’t it?”
The question hangs between us, and I wonder again what, exactly, Annabelle needs that Max Lancaster is giving her in their relationship. It can’t just be about his money, can it? Imogen said that Annabelle was from a very old, well-connected family.
I guess connections don’t pay for luxurious spa days and Van Cleef diamonds.
But the question wasn’t about her. It was about me, and Saint. Now, I consider it. In the beginning, I was clear about what I wanted from him: wild sexual adventure, and access to his rich social circle for my investigation. But quickly, all that changed: Our bond is deeper now, and the one thing I value more than anything else is how he’s stepped up to join me in my mission. Unquestioningly backing me up, making me feel safe and supported, no matter what.
Not just a lover, or a wild fling, but a partner now.Mine.
“Yes,” I answer finally, feeling that unfamiliar swell of emotion in my chest again. “He gives me what I need.”
“Then that’s the only thing that matters right now,” Annabelle declares. “Of course, being a hot future Duke set to inherit the entire Ashford estate doesn’t hurt either,” she adds with a laugh, and then launches into a discussion about honeymoon destinations, and whether Max should buy them a little vacation island in the Caribbean for parties, since it’s justsomuch nicer to have the whole beach to yourself.
We grab some lunch,and finish up at the spa, before Annabelle has to get to a dress fitting. “For your wedding gown?” I ask, and she laughs.
“No, my third reception dress. But this was so much fun! We must all hang out soon. Double date, you and me and Saint and Max. We’ll have a fabulous time!”
“Sounds great to me,” I agree, hoping that Max isn’t the evil bastard I’m looking for—for Annabelle’s sake, if nothing else.
But if it’s not Max, then that just leaves Hugh Ambrose as the only other man with the serpent crown tattoo. And I hate to imagine it’s him, either, especially with all the good work he’s doing at the charitable foundation. Still, I can’t rule him out yet either, so I decide to swing by the Ambrose Foundation office before I head back to Saint’s place.
“Tessa, love the links you sent over,” the head of fundraising, Priya, meets me on the pavement outside, on her way out. “Can’t talk now, but let’s hop on a Zoom or call soon and talk. I think we could schedule the campaign kickoff as soon at the new year.”
“That fast?” I blink, surprised.
“We move quickly here,” she smiles. “Put together a preliminary schedule, and we’ll make it happen!”