We never finish our game. After our shower, we tumble right back into the bedroom, and though Calder seems eager for the next challenge, I don't miss the fatigue in his eyes. We spent the whole day hauling our things up three flights of stairs and the better part of the night hungrily devouring each other. Any normal person would have collapsed long ago. And that's not even considering the emotional strain of the day.I suggest we take a break and lie down for a little while. Calder seems reluctant at first, but as soon as the protest leaves his lips, his mouth widens in a yawn."You know," I say, "if you're tired, we can end the game and you can just give me the present."His lips curl into a secretive smile. "It's too important for that. But you're right. We should rest for a while.""Just a little while," I say."Just a little while," he agrees.We throw some sheets down on the mattress and curl up next to each other. We don't speak. It's enough to lie here in each other's arm
BOOK FOUR: HER WICKED HEART- LOUISA - It never should have happened.He was my project manager, and I was the daughter of Wentworth Cunningham, the man who gave him the job. We both should have known better, but me most of all.The truth is, I was selfish. Before my life went haywire, he was just Ian: hardworking and generous, sweet and serious. I used to tease him about his hair - which was dark and curly like mine - just to try and make him smile. I'd remind him that we were working for the greater good, but he would only see the work we hadn't done yet: the orphanage we had yet to renovate, the resources we had yet to allocate. He was the kindest and most selfless of all of us working at the Chiang Mai division of Cunningham Cares International.After my father's death, Ian became my crutch.I shouldn't have rushed back to Thailand after the funeral. I see that now. My brother pushed me into it, sure, but it's not like he had a gun to my head. Frankly, I thought it would be
- LOUISA - Fortunately, in a place as large as Huntington Manor, it's easy to avoid people.It helps that the day after my little "incident" with the handyman, Mr. Haymore gives me a To Do list long enough to wrap around the earth about two and a half times, and that keeps me occupied for those first few days on the job. It appears that I'm not only Haymore's assistant, I'm also his secretary, gopher, delivery girl, personal shopper, and the official double- and triple-checker of everything he writes. Apparently he believes it's physically possible for someone to proofread an email, place a call to the kitchens, retrieve a package from the front desk, and sift through his receipts at the exact same time.But I don't mind the work as much as I feel like I should.When Mr. Haymore's yelling to me from his office next door, it's hard to think about what I almost did with that random handyman. Sometimes I even forget that I'm doing all of this for Huntington Manor - until I stumble a
- LOUISA -I need to get out of here. I should go talk to Mr. Haymore. Maybe I could convince him to let me outsource this particular task.But what would I say? I can't exactly explain the situation to that stodgy old buffoon. And if I walk out of here and leave all of this crap all over the floor, he'll fire me for sure.I crouch back down and begin sorting through the books again. I have to stay here. That doesn't mean I have to engage with this guy. Maybe the best solution is to ignore him and finish my work. Quickly.But Casanova seems to have other plans."So, what's your name?" he says after a few minutes of silence.I slide the first stack of books back on the shelf and pretend not to hear him. I'm not above employing the tactics of a ten-year-old."I'm Ward," he says to my silence. "Ward Brannon. Usually girls ask for that before they stick their tongue in my mouth."Well, I can't just let that slide."Oh, please. Don't act like you didn't enjoy it," I say. I shove t
- LOUISA -The next morning, I feel like there are a hundred tiny little men trying to break out of my skull with pickaxes.I didn't sleep at all the previous night. I spent a while pacing back and forth until my legs started to shake, and then I curled up by the window and pressed my cheek against the glass, staring out across the estate until the sky brightened with the light of pre-dawn.I'm currently on my fourth coffee. I was able to finish my last few tasks in the gift shop before Ward showed up, and I'm more grateful for that than I want to admit. I don't want to know how I would have responded if he'd made me another offer to continue our, ahem, acquaintance.As usual, Mr. Haymore's running around like a chicken with his head cut off. Edward Carolson and his family arrived late last night, and my boss wants everything to be ready for the luncheon at noon today. That means I've got my errand-girl hat on, but I'm more than happy with the busywork. It keeps me from thinking a
- LOUISA -As usual, the universe is quick to dole out some instant karma for my indiscretion. Not half an hour after the luncheon ends, I'm informed that I will be accompanying Haymore and the Carolsons on their little tour of the grounds this afternoon.I've spent every minute since I left Ward beating myself up for being such an idiot. I'm not an animal. I should be able to make it through a day without trying to jump someone's bones. I don't care how upset I am - I promised myself that I wouldn't look for that kind of comfort anymore.It's hard enough, remembering how I treated Ian. How easily I gave in to those urges, even when I looked into his eyes and saw emotions I knew I could never return. I don't want to be that girl any longer. I don't want to take two steps backward for every one I take forward.I need to take responsibility for myself. And that means avoiding temptation - Ward - at all costs. It also means sitting down and responding to Ian's email. Apologizing for
- LOUISA -The airport is louder than I remember.It's been about two months since the last time I walked through here, but that seems like a lifetime ago. Like a dream. I stand in Baggage Claim next to the single luggage carousel. Barberville's airport is small, but today it's still overwhelming. Once I was excited to walk through these terminals - they were my link to the world outside of my family. Now they only serve to remind me of the emptiness I found on the other side of the planet.I glance around. This place is pretty busy for a small, local airport. I imagine things will go crazy around here when Huntington Manor officially opens. They've already cleared the land to the south of the airport. It looks like they have plans to expand.I'm so busy watching the people pass that I almost miss the one I've come to meet. Suddenly there's a figure in front of me and I find myself looking up into those gray eyes I know so well.I open my mouth to greet him, but no words come. So
- LOUISA -I'm a bitch.I never should have let Ian come here. I never should have gone into his motel room. I never should have kissed him or undressed him or let him think even for a minute that I could return the feelings he has for me. But once again, I allowed myself to get caught up in my own emotions. My own needs.Tears burn in my eyes as I drive back to the estate, but I refuse to let them fall. I don't deserve to cry. I'm never going to change, am I? Every time I show signs of being a decent human being, my true nature has to rear its ugly head again.I can still see Ian's face in my mind. Still see his eyes full of anger and disappointment. Somehow in the past two months he's convinced himself that I have the ability to change. To learn from my mistakes and become the girl he always thought I was. The girl that never really existed in the first place.It's past ten o'clock by the time I reach the estate, and though I know I should go to bed, there's no way I'm going to