Page 36 of The Pleasure Contract

“Twoof you live here?” He didn’t have to feign his astonishment. “Youandyour sister?”

“Indeed we do. And, actually, this is considered a very luxurious two-bedroom because we each have our own, genuine room. Not that you would recognize either one of them as an actual bedchamber, since I believe the bathroom on your plane is larger than both of them put together.”

“Amazing.”

But he was looking at her while he said it.

Bristol laughed and it was like a punch to the gut. When had she stopped laughing like that? When had she retreated into distance in those vague smiles?

But he knew the answer to that, too.

“Allow me to give you the full tour,” she said. She took one step back and opened her hands wide. “This is...the whole thing. You can view it as a kind of sociological experiment, I guess. Behold, Lachlan. This is how the common people live.”

“I got the point the first time.”

“It’s hard to get your head around, I know,” she continued in the same wildly amused tone. “No butler waiting on you. No suite of graceful, pointless rooms, lazily spread out over the top of a building with views to die for.” She moved over to the window and laughed again as she looked out. “That’s not Hyde Park, I’m afraid. That’s my neighbor’s window box and, if I’m not mistaken, that might be an illegal plant. But if you squint, you can pretend.”

When she turned back toward him, he remembered that first dinner a lifetime ago now. The light in her gaze. Her laughter.

How different she’d been then.

How exciting and uncowed and...not trying to impress him at all.

He’d loved that. He’d had sex with her in an alley, for God’s sake.

And then what had he done? He taken her and crushed her to fit into the same box he’d been carrying around his entire adult life. The same box where he’d put anyone who might, even accidentally, attempt to stray too close to him. What had he thought would happen?

“Bristol,” he began. “I wish...”

Laughter faded from her gaze. She inclined her head toward the door.

“I’ll see you in a week, Lachlan,” she said with a quiet certainty that made everything in him tense. “As agreed.”

He wanted to argue. He wanted to impose his will on her with a wave of his hand. Make her change her mind. Make herunderstand.

But the rules were the rules. He knew that all too well, because he was the one who’d made them.

Lachlan saw the choice before himself starkly then. It was moments like this, moments he’d never imagined he’d ever find himself in, that showed him how narrow his path really was. How no matter how he tried, he could never do enough good in the world when inside him, he was still a Drummond.

Still a monster.

He could see too well how easy it would be to be like his father, of course. Ignore any rule he didn’t like, do as he pleased, and laugh about it if anyone ever tried to stand up to him.

That he could see why that was appealing, even after all these years of trying his best to be different, to be better...horrified him.

Lachlan murmured what he hoped was a neutral enough goodbye. He turned before he lost control of himself and truly became his worst nightmare. Then he let himself out, jogging down the rickety stairs, too disgusted with himself to really register any details except the need to put distance between him and the one woman he actually didn’t want any distance from.

Because that was what she wanted.

When he found himself outside on the street, he waved off his driver. Then he took his waking that same old Drummond monster inside him as an opportunity. He started walking himself back into Manhattan, hoping the city would speak to him and maybe even soothe him as he moved.

It was a long walk. And a good one, even on a sweaty evening like this. He’d just crossed the Brooklyn Bridge into Lower Manhattan when the thunder started.

He could relate. It growled and rumbled up above while the air grew thicker.

By the time he made it to his building, he was soaking wet, but it still hadn’t rained. The humidity was so intense it soaked him straight through, and no matter how fast he’d walked, or how furiously he let his feet eat up the blocks, Lachlan was no better off.

He was in no waysoothed.